Every Mountain is Different Vol. 1: “I Belong Here”

This series is inspired by my own discovery, as I train for a 200-mile race, of what I am really training for. Which you can read here. This series focuses on athletes I work with and their mountains, based on my observations.

Kathy came to me almost a year ago because she was ready for a change. At 67 years young, she wasn’t looking to become a different person. Her initial goal was simple: she wanted to be able to watch her god babies for longer periods.

Like most, she thought that change would just be getting stronger. And she has! She is balancing longer, moving better, lifting weights heavier than her godchildren, holding blanks, hanging from a bar, and doing things that once felt completely out of reach. Confidently, she can get down on the floor and back up without questioning whether she can.

But that’s not the part of her story that inspires me the most.

When we first started, we trained together in person. She did not feel comfortable going into a gym on her own. Even the thought of walking into a gym was intimidating.

As she continued showing up, she learned the movements, how to use the equipment, and that she belonged there.

A few months ago, I broke the news that I was moving out of town. I offered to connect her with a few trainers that I trusted to continue in-person sessions.

She turned down this idea and smiled, saying she wanted to work with me fully remote.

Today, she walks into the gym by herself, follows her program, and trains with a level of confidence she never thought she had. And that is what makes me most proud and shows real strength.

Real strength isn’t about how much weight you can lift. It’s the freedom of believing in yourself and the ability to take care of yourself.

This story runs deeper. When we first met, Kathy told me she was a swimmer growing up. She quietly told me she wanted to get back in the pool someday.

And she did that.

Not because we spent months training for her to swim, but because she became the kind of person who was willing to try again. And that’s why we replaced “I can’t” with “Not yet.”

And eventually those turned into “I did.”

That’s why we declared 2026 Kathy’s Year of Water. Or at least I did. Not because she swam laps, but because she stopped believing that the things she loved were behind her.

Your mountain might not be a pool. It might be walking into a gym for the first time, traveling confidently, playing with your grandkids, or lifting a weight that once scared you. Even more, it might be returning to something that you used to love, but quietly convinced yourself was no longer for you. It’s never too late to start.

Everyone’s mountain is different. The person you’re becoming is what matters.