The Road to 65:

I'm Not Fighting Aging.

I'm Training for It.

Six months from now, on February 14, I turn 65.

And I've been thinking a lot about that number.

Not because I'm afraid of it.

Not because I'm trying to figure out how to look younger.

And certainly not because I think there's something magical — or terrible —

about turning 65.

I've been thinking about a different question:

How do I want 65 to feel?

I want to feel strong.

I want to trust my body.

I want to get down on the floor and know I can get back up.

I want to carry my own suitcase through an airport.

I want to walk all day exploring a city I've never visited.

I want to ride bikes with my grandkids.

I want to pick up a heavy kettlebell in the gym — and pick up a grandchild outside of it.

I want to be able to say YES when an adventure presents itself.

And I want enough energy left at the end of the day to actually enjoy the life I've worked so hard to build.

Maybe This Is What Training Was For All Along

I've spent a lot of years training.

I've crossed marathon finish lines.

I've completed an Ironman

I've climbed Spartan obstacles.

I've trained for races, goals and things that scared me.

But this past year reminded me that some of the most important things we train for don't come with medals.

My body has carried me through travel, airports, nearly 20,000 miles of a Grammy Tour, South Korea, grandbabies, caregiving, long days and unexpected changes in plans.

I've carried luggage.

I've carried strollers up stairs.

I've carried grandchildren.

And sometimes I've helped carry the people I love through difficult seasons.

None of those things showed up on a training plan.

But my training showed up for me.

And that has changed the way I think about fitness.

Train It Here. Use It Out There.

I've started calling this idea Train & Transfer.

The goal isn't to become really good at the gym.

The gym is practice.

We squat so we can get up and down.

We carry weights so we can carry groceries, suitcases and grandbabies.

We train balance because someday catching ourselves might matter far more than standing on one leg for 30 seconds.

We build muscle because muscle helps us stay capable and independent.

We train our nervous system because strength isn't just about muscles — it's also about how safely and confidently our brain allows us to use our body.

Train it here. Use it out there.

That's the transfer.

And increasingly, I believe that's what fitness in the second half of life should be about.

I'm Not Training for a Smaller Body

Women have spent decades being told that successful fitness should make us smaller.

Smaller waist.

Smaller thighs.

Smaller number on the scale.

Less food.

Take up less space.

At this point in my life, I'm interested in something entirely different.

I want a bigger life.

More strength.

More energy.

More confidence.

More experiences.

More independence.

More years of being able to do the things I love with the people I love.

I'm not spending the next six months fighting getting older.

I'm training for it.

So I'm Taking You With Me

For the next six months, I'm going to document my Road to 65.

Not as a before-and-after transformation.

There will be no dramatic reveal on February 14.

This is something much more interesting to me.

I'm going to show you what preparing for the next decade of life actually looks like.

I'll share my strength training.

Cardio.

Mobility.

Food.

Recovery.

Applied neurology and nervous system work.

Sleep.

The boring basics.

I'll tell you what works.

I'll tell you what doesn't.

I'll show you the good days — and the days when real life blows the plan completely apart.

Because that's aging, too.

That's life.

But This Isn't Really About My 65

Here's what I hope happens over the next six months.

I hope watching me prepare for 65 makes you start thinking about your next decade.

Not my goals.

Yours.

You don't need to finish an Ironman.

You don't need to run a marathon.

You don't need to jump off a 20-inch box.

You don't have to crawl through mud.

Your strong might mean traveling without worrying whether you'll be able to keep up.

Playing on the floor with your grandchildren.

Gardening.

Hiking.

Playing pickleball.

Carrying your own groceries.

Getting yourself off the floor.

Living independently.

Or simply waking up and trusting your body again.

Your strong should look like YOUR life.

That's what matters.

And whether you're 45, 55, 65 or 75, I don't believe the question is, "Is it too late?"

I think the better question is:

What do I want to still be able to do ten years from now — and what can I start doing today to give myself the best chance of getting there?

That's the question I'm asking myself.

Six months.

One birthday.

No transformation challenge.

No war against aging.

Just a woman getting ready for the next chapter of her life.

And maybe helping a few other women realize they can start writing theirs, too.

Welcome to the Road to 65.

Strong Starts Now. ❤️

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