People keep asking about my workout routine. In the Facebook groups. In the DMs. In the comments under posts that had nothing to do with working out.
Fair question. Here’s the honest answer: the routine is the least interesting thing about me.
The question behind the question
Women years out from weight loss surgery aren’t really asking about sets and reps. There are a thousand free workouts online. You’ve seen them. You’ve saved half of them.
What you’re actually asking is this: how are you still doing it? How did you get through the surgery, the years after, the mirror, the voices in your head, and keep going?
That’s not a training question. That’s a life question.
What I’m not
Not a trainer. Not a drill sergeant. Not someone who will yell at you to push through while ignoring why you stopped showing up in the first place.
Not someone who thinks surgery was the finish line. It was the starting gun.
And not someone who has it all figured out. I’m still in therapy today. Saying that out loud is part of the point.
What I am
A woman who has walked the road. The surgery. The years after. The relationship with food that surgery didn’t fix but forced me to face. The work of forgiving myself for things that were never mine to carry.
A support system. Someone in your corner who knows what it feels like when the scale isn’t the hardest thing in the room.
Your cheerleader. On purpose. Without apology.
Why I don’t do this alone
Here’s what I learned the hard way. The weight was never just about weight. So the support can’t be either.
That’s why I work alongside a practitioner. And when what you’re carrying needs a therapist, I refer you to one. A workout plan can’t do a therapist’s job. I’ve needed both, and I won’t pretend otherwise.
This is whole-life wellness. Body, food, mind, faith, identity. All of it, because all of it showed up in my story.
So what’s actually in the library?
Workouts, for one. Glutes, full body, upper body, abs, shoulders. At home and in the gym. Beginner through advanced. Then the rest of it: recipes, sample meal plans, and a digital journal with prompts for the work that happens off the mat. New pieces land over time.
Use them. Sweat. Cook. Write. Get strong.
But understand what they are. The library is the door. The community is the room. And the room is where the real work happens.
Who this is for
The woman who had surgery years ago and quietly wonders why the after still feels this hard.
The woman who did everything right and still doesn’t recognize herself.
The woman who is tired of being told it’s just willpower.
If that’s you, you’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re in the after years. And you don’t have to do them alone.
Plenty of people can hand you a workout.
Very few can help when the workout isn’t the problem.
The After Years paid library opens Monday, October 19.
The first 50 subscribers get the Founding Rate: $9/month, locked in for life. After that, it’s $12/month or $110/year.
Not ready for paid? Subscribe free and get a note from me every other week.