The Real Way Forward: For Women Managing Autoimmune Conditions and Burnout

It’s time to stop chasing motivation and start honoring your rhythms.

Snowshoeing on Mount Rainier.

When I set my goal to snowshoe at Mount Rainier after my second hip replacement, it wasn’t a casual target. It was built around something bigger than motivation or willpower. It was about aligning my recovery with the only timeline that mattered — the one set by nature itself.

Snow doesn’t wait. Seasons don’t shift because you’re tired or busy. If I wanted to be back in the mountains before the snow melted, the recovery plan had to respect the pace of real life, not an imaginary one.

That’s what Seasonal Intelligence is about, something I covered earlier this month.

Setting goals that live in reality. Moving when the world moves. Planning work inside windows that won’t stay open forever.

When you get that, you stop building goals based on fantasy. You start building them around actual change.

Because nature doesn’t negotiate. It just moves — with or without you.

Different Recovery, Different Rules

I knew better than to expect this recovery to look like my first hip surgery.

The first time was almost textbook — fast, clean, simple.

This time, it was clear immediately that the path would be harder.

The bruising was deeper.

The pain showed up differently — radiating into my lower back.

Simple acts like pulling on pants and getting up from a chair after sitting for a while became my daily check-ins. Were things getting better, even slightly? Or was something slipping backward?

Eight weeks in, I tweaked my back during PT by pushing too far. It wasn’t a disaster, but it forced me to shift the strategy fast — focusing harder on glutes and hamstrings, removing anything that overworked the lower back.

Recovery, like the seasons, doesn’t move on your schedule.

You move on its.

Seasonal Intelligence isn’t about pretending setbacks won’t happen.

It’s like packing for a mountain hike when you know the weather’s going to be unpredictable. You don’t get mad when conditions change — you adjust what you’re carrying so you’re ready for whatever shows up.

The goal stayed the same.

The path needed a smarter route.

Small Wins Stack Up

Big recoveries don’t happen through massive gestures.

They happen through small wins, stacked up over time.

I didn’t measure progress by Peloton scores or how low I squatted. I measured it by how much easier daily activities became. By whether the swelling was a little less each week. By whether I could put my pants and socks on without pain when I bent over.

In the gym, when lifts stalled, I didn’t stubbornly keep pushing. I recalibrated with my coach, adjusted macros, added more carbs to fuel real strength building, and got a baseline InBody scan to track body composition changes with actual data — not just gut feel.

Nothing about it was glamorous. And it certainly wasn’t easy looking at the data.

It was consistent, deliberate, and real.

This wasn’t about hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth.

It was about getting on base, moving the runner, building momentum — day after day.

In reality, the only way out is through if you’re going to get to where you want to be.

Flexibility Without Losing Focus

Originally, I targeted the first half of April to hit Rainier.

But sometimes seasons outside your control shift your plans. A last-minute family opportunity for Passover came up, and we chose to go.

The old version of me might have passed on the opportunity. But this time, I understood: Seasonal Intelligence also means recognizing when connection matters more than schedules. The climb could wait. Time with people who matter couldn’t.

We came back from San Francisco with zero regrets. The goal hadn’t disappeared — it simply moved to the second half of April.

That’s the real skill in seasonal goal setting: adapting without losing your center.

Earning the Day

When we finally hit Mount Rainier, the day was clear and spectacular. The sun reflected off the snow so intensely you could feel it burning through sunscreen. The air was crisp, the snow softer than expected, making each step a little more challenging.

Just getting started!

If you’ve hiked out of Paradise, the trail from the parking lot doesn’t ease you in.

It’s a straight grind up 1,000+ feet of elevation. No warm-up lap. No breaks.

Step by step, the work showed itself. Not because the climb was easy — it wasn’t — but because my body was ready to meet it.

The hubs and I were drenched in sweat but happy, taking in the views of Mount Adams and Mount St. Helens.

And then came the best part: glissading back down.

Flying down the snowy slope, laughing, sliding out of control but completely in the moment.

It wasn’t graceful — but it was fun, and it was earned.

Even the drone, which lost signal thanks to the altitude, somehow found its way back to us when the battery died.

Sometimes things don’t work perfectly — and still work out anyway.



Moving Forward: Building Strength for the Next Season

Hitting the Rainier goal was a milestone — not a finish line.

Recovery, like any real growth, moves in cycles. I’ve dealt with this with my autoimmune conditions for decades. What I’ve learned is when one window closes, another opens.

Right now, I’m focused on rebuilding strength — putting muscle back on after months of careful movement and rehab. I noticed my gym progress stalling about a month ago. Lifts weren’t improving, and my body wasn’t responding the way it should.

After reviewing everything with my coach, we adjusted my macros — adding carbs to fuel real strength building again. I ran an InBody scan to set a baseline for body composition changes. Progress won’t happen overnight, but it’s happening: my lifts are getting stronger, week by week.

Alongside the gym work, the hubs and I are lining up more hikes to prep for bigger upcoming adventures. I’ll be back in the Olympic Mountains doing one of my favorite hikes this weekend — a reminder that real rewards aren’t about summit photos. They’re about reconnecting to the places that keep you smiling.

This phase isn’t about rushing. It’s about building right.

Moving smarter. Recovering better. Showing up fully — for myself, the people I care about, and the clients I coach.

Because the truth is: Seasonal Intelligence never stops.

You don’t just survive one season and coast.

You keep noticing when it’s time to plant, when it’s time to grow, and when it’s time to rebuild the foundation for whatever’s next.


Looking for an accountability partner who isn’t going to judge whatever the habit is that you are trying to change?


The Playbook Doesn’t Change

This recovery wasn’t special.

It wasn’t magic.

It was a simple application of Seasonal Intelligence: aligning my work with the real pace of the world around me, not an artificial one.

Set a real goal anchored in a real season.

Break it into small, daily moves that build strength and resilience.

Adapt when the weather shifts — literal or metaphorical.

Advance consistently through setbacks instead of pretending they won’t happen.

This is the exact framework I coach.

It’s how I help people stop spinning their wheels chasing outcomes disconnected from reality, and start building momentum by working inside real windows of opportunity.

You don’t need more motivation.

You need a system that respects the season you’re actually living through.

You need to survive and advance — thoughtfully, persistently — until the next window opens.

Where Are You in Your Season?

If you’re stuck right now, ask yourself:

Are you trying to push through a season that’s closing?

Or are you building a path inside the season you’re in?

Big goals don’t go to the loudest or the fastest.

They go to the ones who keep moving with the terrain as it changes — staying steady when the weather turns, advancing when the window opens.

The snow is melting.

The season is changing.

Move with it.

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Different, Not Broken: A Neurodivergent Path to Fulfillment and Balance