Lessons from a week of silence
For those who see me regularly, you know I spent the first week of December 2025 at a silent meditation retreat.
In short: it was life-changing.
A full week of no talking.
No intentional eye contact.
A clean, simple diet. Food is amazingly good when you sit and focus on nothing else but eating.
And meditation woven into everything — sitting (lots of sitting…), walking, eating. We were even asked to not journal, as even that takes us out of the current moment.
On the first full day, I was eager to see where the week would take us. But instead of easing in, it felt like we were thrown straight into the deep end.
Our Buddhist leader, Vinny, posed a big question immediately — one that felt like a piercing stare straight back into our own eyes:
“Can we show up, right here and right now — not just accepting this body sitting on the cushion, but fully loving who we are, just as we are?”
He recounted a passage from Hollie Holden:
"Today I asked my body what she needed,
Which is a big deal.
Considering my journey of
Not Really Asking That Much.
I thought she might need more water.
Or protein.
Or greens.
Or yoga.
Or supplements.
Or movement.
But as I stood in the shower
Reflecting on her stretch marks,
Her roundness where I would like flatness,
Her softness where I would like firmness,
All those conditioned wishes
That form a bundle of
Never-Quite-Right-Ness,
She whispered very gently:
Could you just love me like this?"
— Hollie Holden
I have never come close to crying while meditating until that moment. It rang so true — cutting straight to a deep sadness I didn’t even know I carried about how I treat myself.
Athletes often feel most “okay” when we’re being athletic — running hard, lifting, biking, doing something productive with our bodies. Movement quiets the mind. The body finally gets to be as busy as the brain usually is.
But what happens during the non-exercise moments of the day?
Most days, I don’t even realize how chaotic my mind is. Some days I sit for a 10–15 minute meditation and uncover what feels like brain fireworks — strobe lights, buzzing, noise. I can be living inside a full-blown tornado and not see it until I finally take a brief time-out.
Prior to this year, my strategy was to just run harder — release the dogs, chase the tornado, smashing out miles to calm things down. But that approach wasn’t helping me make real gains. The harder I trained, the less fit and more fatigued I felt.
After the retreat, my pace in life was slow. It actually took a few days to want to run again. Since getting back into running, I’ve brought a different intention into my runs — especially my Zone 2 runs.
Less pushing forward into faster, further.
More settling back.
Hanging out in the background instead of constantly driving forward.
Practically, I’m bringing more nasal breathing into my easy runs and adding walk breaks to actually let easy runs be easy — paired with one hard Zone 5 session of high speed intervals per week.
So far? I feel more rested. More recovered. And oddly… stronger.
Can we fully accept ourselves at all times, not just while exercising?
I’m not saying we should all convince ourselves we are healthy when we are not, or fit when we aren’t. Bodies change. Fitness fluctuates. Goals matter.
But beating ourselves up is not the path forward.
If fitness is driven by trying to fix ourselves into something more ‘socially acceptable”, it eventually collapses.
So here are my 2026 personal goals:
1) My body is not for public display.
I want to get fit and strong for me, not for validation.
2) My workouts are for overall health longevity
Not to punish stress.
Not because I’m “not enough” yet.
But because this body deserves care and attention — exactly as it is.
