I’ve always hated the cold — until I don’t.
Tonight, right before dusk, the country girl in me came back.
It started simply, the way many days do: walking the dogs, bundled up, freezing, debating whether to rush back inside. Instead, I stayed out. I ran them in the backyard, let them work, fed them, and let the day begin. When I come in from being outside with those two, I’m always sucking wind — and tonight was no exception. Cold air, movement, resistance. A workout whether I planned it or not.
As the light began to fade, something shifted.
I grabbed a flashlight and clippers and went to work in the front yard. I’d been meaning to cut back the lavender branches and clear out the hyacinth that had developed a bit of fungus — start fresh — but I kept putting it off because it was so cold. One of the coldest days of the year, in fact.
And there I was, outside at night, working in my yard anyway.
Dead bushes came down fast — like I had a machete in my hand. I worked by a narrow beam of light, chopping, raking, piling, hauling trash as the sky darkened. Neighbors drove by, probably thinking, What on earth is she doing? — maybe even deciding I’m that one crazy lady on the block.
I didn’t mind.
And suddenly, I wasn’t cold anymore.
I was back on the farm — trekking down the road to the sledding hill, feeding horses, chickens, rabbits, cows — dogs, cats, you name it. Carrying armfuls of wood from the woodpile to the woodstove, breath puffing in the cold, fingers stiff, knowing the warmth came after the work. Riding my bike in winter. Jumping into piles of leaves.
This is how we moved growing up.
This was exercise — even though we never called it that.
When I came in, my mouth was frozen and I had to blow my nose. Honest cold. Honest effort.
The yard crew never showed up — again — which meant on top of everything else, I was staring at piles of leaves. For a moment, it felt overwhelming. But then something clicked. This might be the first year I do my own leaves. I’ve had it with unreliability. I need to start doing it myself. Little by little. It’s real work — and it’s a great workout.
There was also that familiar end-of-day fatigue — the kind that comes when you’ve carried a lot. My son Jake texted me saying, “Hey Mom, post Instagram stories like this — it helps my business.” I smiled, but I also felt the weight of everything I was juggling: running the business, taking care of myself, caring for the dogs, keeping life moving. It wasn’t resistance — it was reality.
And still, I felt good.
I ended the day in the front yard, right before nightfall, moving my body and clearing what no longer belonged. When I came in, I felt strong. Grounded. Proud.
Moving the way we were meant to move also means remembering that we are capable. We forget sometimes that we can do our own work — that we can labor, lift, rake, carry, and tend to what’s ours. We don’t always have to hire someone else to do it for us. There’s something deeply satisfying about doing your own yardwork, your own physical work, and feeling how good it is afterward. Tonight brought me right back to who I’ve always been — the country girl, the farm girl — strong, capable, and at home in my body.
There’s something deeply regulating about physical work — especially when life feels heavy or uncertain. Movement clears the mind. Cold sharpens awareness. Effort brings you back into your body. Strength doesn’t always come from bright rooms, mirrors, or perfect workout plans.
Sometimes strength comes from doing the work anyway.
From picking up a flashlight.
From raking leaves.
From carrying wood.
From showing up — even in the cold.
As we step into a new year, it’s worth remembering: exercise doesn’t have to be traditional to be powerful. Manual labor, outdoor work, and purposeful movement are how humans have always stayed strong. Our bodies remember that — even if our schedules have forgotten.
At N2Shape, this is how we think about movement — not as something separate from life, but as part of it. Strength doesn’t have to come from a gym or a perfect plan. It comes from learning how to move well, breathe deeply, and use your body the way it was designed to be used — at any age. If you’re looking for a way to start 2026 grounded, capable, and strong, this is where we begin.
