Looking back at 40, my strength was mostly about just getting through the day.

I was a single mom to a 13-year-old daughter and a 9-year-old son, navigating the emotional and physical work of downsizing our lives. We moved from a 2,150-square-foot house into a more manageable 1,350 square feet. It was a necessary “shedding of skin”—moving from a large property I couldn’t maintain alone to a space where I could finally breathe.

We already had a lab mix at the time, and I promised the kids we could get a small dog once we moved. I settled on a Maltese; my son picked him out, and my daughter got to name him. So there we were, settling into our new home with our loyal lab mix and a brand-new puppy.

Back then, “exercise” was whatever happened in the margins of a busy career and raising two kids. Even then, I could see their own paths forming—my daughter with her early love for movement and my son with his deep passion for music. While walking two dogs gave me a reason to get outside, finding time for a dedicated workout felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. I was “tired-strong”—the kind of strength that gets you through a long day but leaves you completely depleted by 8:00 PM.

A Different View at 61

Twenty years later, the landscape of my life has shifted again. My children are 33 and 30, busy building their own incredible lives as an engineer and a fireman. My 2,150-square-foot past has been traded for a cozy 740-square-foot sanctuary, and my “no-buy” year has taught me a profound truth: I already have everything I need.

In fact, the only thing I’ve really added to my life lately is a dedicated weight training routine. It has been a revelation. My daughter, who balances her engineering career with being a Pilates instructor, has been such an inspiration to me to get out and move my body.

I’ll be honest: I still have some weight I’d like to lose, and I’m not at my “goal” yet. But for the first time, I can actually feel the muscle underneath. I’m starting to feel toned and firm in ways I never did before. It’s a strange and wonderful feeling to realize that even as I’m working on the numbers on the scale, the shape of my strength is already changing. I’ve noticed my posture change—I no longer slouch. I feel capable, and, quite frankly, empowered.

There’s a specific kind of magic in realizing I am actually stronger at 61 than I was at 40.

Cooking for One (and the Neighbors)

The kitchen remains the heart of my home, though the portions have changed. I still make it a point to cook every night, but I’ve had to master the art of “cooking for one.”

Since feeding people is my love language, I often make a little extra to share with my wonderful neighbors. It’s a way to stay connected, but these days, there’s a new intention behind the menu. I’m not just cooking to provide; I’m cooking to fuel the nutrition I need to keep hitting those personal bests in the gym.

I’ve traded the “tired-strong” of my 40s for an intentional strength that fits this season of my life perfectly.