I was up each day at 4:30 a.m. and saw my last client at 10 p.m. On the weekends I would drive to The Hamptons where I’d lead exercise classes on the bluffs and in swimming pools. For a country girl from a small town, I felt I had arrived. In between training hours, I put my own body through its paces.
It was on a run one day through Central Park when I finally took off my headphones and listened to my body and my heart. In that one instant, I recognized I was burnt out. I had a constant sore throat. My body was always in some state of recovery from yet another injury. I wasn’t eating well enough. I’d made a career of maximizing other people’s physical potential, but didn’t know how to be there for myself.
I phased out my clients in New York City and Hartford, CT, sold my business to my manager, and started a new chapter.
By 1994, I was married, gave birth to my son and completed graduate studies at the University of Connecticut. But something was missing in my life. I’d consciously chosen to stay home with my family and pause my career, yet I felt lost. I started to become spiritually curious but didn’t know how to channel that emotion.