Who would of thought it? Not me. It would’ve been the last thing I told you I wanted to do. Not in this lifetime. I mean, I did one, a very small one in comparison, about 20 years ago. When I was 40. But 60? I’ve always been active. I like skiing both on snow and water. I took up snowshoeing during the winter of 2020/21 and I’ve rode a bike for about 20 years. With gyms mostly closed in 2020, I dusted off my Trek and began riding more than just a few times in the summer time, putting over 1200 miles on my road bike in 2021 alone. But still, a half Ironman? No way.
Let me tell you how it all began. I was unhappy. My life felt like I couldn’t get anywhere. I’ve always felt called to be a writer, but during the pandemic, I couldn’t write a single word. After getting my college degree at 55, I thought I’d left the hair industry forever when stress forced me to leave a job working at a magazine where I was working for pennies – putting me back behind the chair again. I vowed to finish my novel within two years and get the heck out of this industry for good – but then: Covid. The novel I’d started over three years ago, just sat on my computer – not a single word added since the pandemic began. I felt angry. Frustrated. Paralyzed and STUCK. If it’s true we are what we eat, then I was a green vapor of poisonous gas – fueled by politics, divisive rhetoric, social media and my own frustrations. You might imagine how much fun I was to be around. Garbage in. Garbage out.
While at the dog park with a friend last April, I listened as she told me what was going on for her since she started working with a Life Coach. Yeah. A Life Coach. In my mind, that sounded like “personal cheerleader.” But the fact was, I had no idea what a Life Coach did. But as I listened, I thought, “What if that could help me?” I began by asking a trusted friend if she knew of one she could recommend. Of course she did, and two weeks later, I began a journey that has changed the course of my life.
I spent six months working with my Coach. I did all the work but her job was to guide me, ask questions and to get curious about the limiting beliefs I held about myself that kept me paralyzed. Turns out, I had lots of fear. What? Me? I’ve always been fearless! I walked 500 miles through Spain by myself, remember? I put myself through college at 50! What could I be afraid of? Well, Imposter Syndrome for one. Who was I to call myself a writer? Just because I was published in a few small publications, did that make me a writer? And even if I did finish the novel, what’s to say it wouldn’t be a dud? Or get any traction if it was good? I also felt alone and Covid certainly added to that fear. In my mind, I wasn’t ever going to be good enough to find a person and share my life again. I was too old. I wasn’t skinny enough. I didn’t make enough money. I didn’t choose the right major that could’ve given me a better chance at success. I wasn’t enough of anything and I was tired. The result of being depressed. And then…after just two months of coaching, things began to shift. Especially my perspective: My beliefs about who I was, and who I was not.
I spent the summer riding after work with a young woman young enough to be my daughter. In fact, she was my daughter’s friend from high school, and she just happened to be my boss. When I first started working for her, I was jaded. I didn’t want to be a hairdresser anymore. I even told her, “I have no **cks left for this business.” And then, I was given a chance to prove that to her when we went snowshoeing last winter – only to have her tell me when I screwed up a scheduled appointment, “I need people that give a **ck working for my business.” It was a low moment for me. I needed that job and I was happy to be working for her. Embarrassed and ashamed, it was my response that saved my job. You see, I do care about my work. Regardless of what work I do, I’ve always worked hard. But I needed that wake up call. I needed more than that, but that was really the start of everything. And then, shortly thereafter, I began working with my Life Coach. The feelings of confidence grew. And grew. And grew. And then, one day, after months of working with my coach, I began writing again.
To find out more, follow my journey and find out what happened next and where was the light switch that turned everything back on? Who were the players? Why now? What’s next? And, how I became an athlete while trying to finish a book. Please comment if you liked this post or send me an email. In the meantime, this is me, gross and sweaty after riding 20 short miles before my run. 
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