This post is by Tami Rodriguez.

I was an athlete as a kid. Movement always had a purpose...to win!! We trained to be faster, stronger and more flexible so we could excel against other teams and WIN. Do you remember the dread of running...

This post is by Jen Stanbro.

“Beautiful Girl, you can do hard things.” 

I saw this quote on a blanket in a catalog once, and it has stayed with me. 

Until I was about 30 years old, I would’ve considered myself a...

This post is by Jen Shultz.

Move. 

That one word has made me feel like a failure more times in the last decade than I can count. That goal- the one of moving my body- has been a place of great frustration. I hit a good stride and make...

This is post by Jen Stanbro.

A couple of months ago, I was sitting next to my mom on the couch in my screened-in patio, on a beautiful 75 degree day in February. This was new to me.  I grew up in Western New York (think lake-effect snow) and...

This post is by Jill Miller.

I was an All-American athlete in high school, with a full ride to college in swimming. I worked out a minimum of 4 hours a day, both morning and night for years and years and years. You could say exercise and moving my...

This post is by Danielle Smith.

For a lot of us, each New Year brings new fitness goals. A month-long spree of potluck gatherings and cookie bakes is followed by January vows to tone up, trim down, and “Eat Clean Bro.” 

2021...

This post is by Rose Ward.

Movement.

This word is a challenge for many, especially for those like myself, who struggle to do simple tasks like combing my hair, putting on a pair of socks, or wrestling with repetitive movements that cause, in one...

This post is by Cindy Chen.

I can’t depend on a spark of inspiration to motivate me to move. It turns out, it takes discipline and a bit of faith. 

I used to say, flippantly, “I’m not a morning person.” And...

This post is by René Bancroft.

I still marvel at those who call themselves “morning people.” I have never been a morning person. I’m more of a “wake up in time to go to brunch” kind of person, yet...

This post is by Rachael Gilbert.

It was official, I could no longer see my ankles. I had entered my final trimester of pregnancy and due to my pre-eclampsia, everything from my eyelids down to my pinky toes looked as though I had been stung by a...