Three different clients asked me the same question within a single week this September, and none of them knew the others had asked it. “Should I buy a reformer?” Not a treadmill. Not a fancy watch. A Pilates reformer — the sliding carriage, the springs, the footbar, the whole pulled-straight-from-a-studio apparatus — for their house. When a question shows up three times in seven days, I stop treating it as small talk and start treating it as an assignment. So my team and I spent the past few weeks pulling spec sheets, checking weight capacities, folding and unfolding machines, and…
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Every year, right around the last week of October, my group texts go quiet. The 6 a.m. crew that spent all of September hammering out tempo work on the river path suddenly develops elaborate excuses. My favorite this season came from a client named Dana, who wrote, verbatim, “it is 38 degrees and I am one woman, not a furnace.” She was joking, but she was also gone for three weeks. Here is the thing I have learned after two decades of coaching people through the cold: the problem is almost never the cold. It is the wardrobe. Most people…
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I spent most of my twenties collecting kettlebells the way other people collect coffee mugs. There was the 26-pounder I bought for high-rep swings, the 35 that carried me through my heptathlon off-seasons, the 44 that mostly served as a very expensive doorstop by the end. Six bells lined up in the garage like bowling trophies, occupying a shelf I could have used for, well, anything else. So when September rolled around this year and I found myself coaching yet another client through building a home gym from scratch, I finally took my own advice: I let the whole shelf…
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Every October, without fail, my inbox fills with the same question. It arrives after the first week of raking leaves, the first cold morning at the desk, the first marathon-training long run when the lower back quietly files its complaint. “Should I buy an inversion table?” Clients ask it the way people ask about a tattoo — half hopeful, half worried someone will talk them out of it. I understand the appeal. I spent my twenties throwing a javelin and landing in a sand pit two hundred days a year, and my spine kept the receipts long after my heptathlon…
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There is a moment every September when my walking group looks at me with the same question in their eyes. This year it arrived early, courtesy of a viral clip of someone power-walking through a park with what looked like a small sandbag strapped to their chest. Ten texts later, I had my answer ready: yes, the weighted vest is having a moment, and yes, I would find out exactly what it does before any of you buy one. So I did what I always ask my clients to do before they chase a trend: I built a little experiment…
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Nobody warned me that 2026 would be the year everyone I know became a walker. My Tuesday-morning client roster includes a retired firefighter doing Japanese walking intervals, two moms training for an October half marathon walk, and my own mother, who texts me her step count like it’s a stock portfolio. Search interest in walking workouts jumped almost three thousand percent last year, and my coaching inbox finally reflects it: the number one question I get is no longer about macros or heart rate zones. It’s about shoes. I get it. When walking becomes your actual workout — not just…
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Every September, without fail, somebody on my coaching roster sends me the same text: “The kids are back in school and I have forty minutes to myself. What do I buy?” For years I gave complicated answers. Last fall my team counted how many of our clients ended up sticking with equipment they bought in September, and one category beat everything else combined by a margin that embarrassed me. It was not a smart treadmill. It was not a fancy recovery gun. It was a pull-up bar. Not because hanging is magical, but because a bar in a doorway you…
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Here’s something I don’t say at parties: the most important workout of my week is also the least impressive one. Nobody films it. Nobody cheers. On paper, it’s a 47-year-old woman marching up a gentle hill while a podcast plays in her ears, occasionally reciting Shakespeare out loud to nobody. And yet this unglamorous session — and three others like it — did more for my health than any gut-busting interval set I’ve done in the last decade. I spent my twenties chasing an Olympic berth in the heptathlon and missed it by a margin so small I can still…
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There is a moment every late August when I catch myself checking the long-range forecast for mountain ranges I will not stand on for another six weeks. My husband finds it endearing. My coaching clients find it excessive. The team I train with has simply stopped asking why I am squinting at October precipitation charts before Labor Day. Here is the thing, though: the best trail season of the year is not won in September. It is won right now, in these last quiet weeks of summer, while everybody else is still at the lake. Fall is the open secret…
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There’s a specific moment I replay for every athlete who asks me whether their watch is good enough for heart rate training. It’s 6:14 on a Tuesday morning, I’m ninety seconds into the third round of rope slams, and I glance at my wrist: 132 beats per minute. Meanwhile, the elastic band strapped around my chest says 174. One of them is lying, and my legs already know which one. That gap — forty-two beats at the exact moment the data mattered most — is what kicked off a month-long experiment my team and I now call the dual-wear project.…