She Powered Through

She Power Race Recap

Let's Celebrate

There are moments worth pausing to honor, not because everything went perfectly, but because we showed up with intention, grace, and courage. This is one of those moments. 

The She Power race wasn't just about miles, minutes, or medals. It was about listening, trusting, pacing, community, healing, encouragement, and the quiet power of continuing even when the path leading up to the starting line wasn't smooth. 

And truthfully? The story began long before race morning. 

Preparing for She Power: Honoring the Pause

The two weeks leading up to this race were anything but ideal. 

Workouts were inconsistent. 

Walks were off rhythm. 

Runs felt forced, shortened, or skipped altogether.

Sinus pressure lingered, heavy in my head and body, reminding me daily that strength doesn't always show up as speed or stamina. 

So instead of pushing through just to say I did, I paused. 

I rested. 

I listened. 

I chose care over guilt.

Because sometimes the most disciplined thing we can do is stop long enough to heal mind, body, and spirit without attaching shame to the pause. 

Powering through doesn't always look like grinding nonstop. Sometimes it looks like joy after a long workday. Laughter that shakes loose stress. Boundaries without apology. Trusting God with what we can't control. Showing up anyway: not perfect, not fully healed, but present and willing. 

If you've had a disrupted rhythm, a rough season, or a body that needed grace instead of pressure, this run was for you too. 

We were still strong. 

We were still called. 

And we honored the pause before the push.

The Night Before: Race Eve Rituals & Restless Energy

Saturday night, I fully expected to sleep straight through until my alarm. I had family visiting, playtime, and I was deeply tired. Surely rest would come easily.

Nope. 

I lay down early and didn't drift off until after 11 p.m., knowing full well my alarm would ring around 5 a.m. I slept deeply until 2:30 a.m., then I was wide awake. 

Not because I wasn't tired, but because this always happens before a race. That familiar feeling. Like the night before the first day of school. A new job. Stepping onto a stage. Wedding jitters. 

I don't fully know how to name it, but I know this: I rarely get a full night's rest before a race. 

So I stayed still. 

I prayed. 

I played Mahjong. 

I checked in with family that was headed to the airport. 

Eventually, I eased out of bed and began preparing:

• A leftover slice of pizza for fuel (because balance 😁)
• Post-race snacks
• My pre-race drink with vitamin B
• An early departure to pick up my race packet

The drive was peaceful. Almost too peaceful. My sinuses and post-nasal drip were still trying to make themselves known. I thought about pace. About last year. About this year.

And seriously, what is it about race day that makes you need to pee every ten minutes? I went to the restroom three times before the race even started. 

I laced up my favorite racing shoes, my Sauconys (game changers, truly). And as I stood there, a familiar truth settled in:

I'm not here to compete against other women. 

I am here to compete against myself. 

Long Before the Starting Line: This Journey Didn't Start in 2025

Although I officially joined races last year, I've been walking and trotting my way through this wellness journey consistently for three to five years. 

I've watched my waistline shrink.

I've released more than 45 pounds. 

And I'm no longer pressed about the number on the scale.

Especially after learning what so many women experience during the change, or should I say, the changes. 

Pre-pause was rough. 

Perimenopause was worse.

Post-menopause? A beast compared to both, until I learned how to support my body, balance my hormones, and listen instead of punishing. 

To the women reading this: 

You are beautiful, no matter your size or shape. 

To the men: 

Please be kind to the women in your lives. These body shifts are real: brain fog, mood swings, restless nights, skin changes, hair thinning, cravings that make no sense, and that's not even the full list. 

We judge ourselves enough already. 

Support matters. 

Sunrise Sisterhood: Women at the Corner

At 6:30 a.m., in the cool quiet before the sun rose, I met a small group of women on the corner. All of us were headed toward the same place, even if our journeys looked different. 

One was a vendor who warmly invited me to find the compression booth after the race. Another was a runner. Then Jill, Valerie, Ruth (I think), and Samantha joined.

Strangers, and yet, not strangers at all.

We talked about life. About stress, hormonal shifts, injuries, aging, and bodies changing in ways no one fully prepares us for. 

One woman shared she was grateful to meet me, and admitted she felt a little jealous that I could run, because a herniated disc meant she could only walk. 

There was no comparison. 

No pity. 

Just mutual respect. 

We laughed together in the cool morning air, swapping stories and encouragement, holding space for one another before the world fully woke up. 

Women witnessing women. 

That, too, was powering through. 

The Race: Mile 4.65 & Gentle Push Forward

By the time I reached the starting area, nerves had arrived right on cue. Fingers still tingling. A low hum of anticipation running through my body. 

Still, I reminded myself:

I wasn't racing against anyone else.

I was honoring my own body. 

My own timeline. 

My own becoming. 

Around mile 4.65, (yes, I clocked it), my left shoulder began to ache. My right knee followed. My pace slowed. 

Instead of panicking, I checked in gently (with myself of course): 

"Come on, Stacie. Let's keep going. We got this." 

I found rhythm alongside two other runners, and we encouraged one another quietly, steadily. 

No rushing. 

No forcing. 

Just presence. 

That invisible barrier I've written about before showed up again, not to stop me, but to be noticed, assessed, and moved through. 

She didn't power through by ignoring her body. 

She powered through by trusting it. 

The Finish Line: Proof, Tears, and Chocolate Cake

When it was over—when I crossed that finish line, something beautiful happened. 

A young woman I had checked on during the race found me. She told me that if it hadn't been for my encouragement, she wouldn't have finished. She introduced me to her family. We took pictures together. 

And, I cried. 

Because this race wasn't just about time. 

Though yes, I finished 16 minutes and 13 seconds faster than this same race last year. 

It was about proof:

• Proof that I am safe in my body
• Proof that I can pace myself and still finish strong
• Proof that power doesn't always look like pushing
• Proof that presence matters

Later, there was water. Oranges. And then, unexpectedly, the most amazing chocolate cake.

And listen...that cake was everything. Sometimes joy shows up exactly where you need it.

I also tried post-race leg and foot compression for the first time. At first it felt strange, but afterward? My legs felt grateful, supported, and cared for. 

Another reminder: 

Recovery is part of the work.  

Familiar Rhythms & the Drive Home

This race was hosted by 131 Events, and I realized I've run most of my races with them since last year. There's something comforting about familiar organizers, familiar rhythms, and familiar excellence. 

And then there was the drive home. 

Salt stains streaked my face from sweat and tears. 

My body was tired, but strong. 

My spirit was overwhelmed in the best way. 

I sat with the emotion instead of rushing past it. 

Because again, this wasn't just a race. 

It was community. 

It was witnessing. 

It was pacing. 

It was encouragement given and received. 

It was learning, again, that power doesn't always roar. 

Sometimes, she laughs on a street corner at sunrise. 

Sometimes, she walks when she can't run. 

Sometimes, she pauses at mile 4.65 and keeps going anyway. 

She powered through. 

Not alone.

Not by force.

But together, with wisdom, grace, and heart.

2026 vs. 2025: The Numbers Tell the Story

When I finally sat down and looked at my Apple Watch data, I had one of those quiet, grounding realizations: 

This wasn’t just “a little faster.”


This was real, measurable growth. 

Overall Time 

• 2025: 1:38:58 

• 2026: 1:22:45 

⏬16 minutes and 13 seconds faster on the same 10K course. 

Not a shortcut.


Not perfect conditions.


Not a fluke. 

Just a body that has learned how to show up differently. 

Pace Breakdown: Mile by Mile 

Mile 1 

• 2025: 15:23 
• 2026: 12:30
• ⏬2.53 faster

Cautious became confident. 

Mile 2 

• 2025: 14:58
• 2026: 13:02
• ⏬1.56 faster

Effort increased, but so did control.  

Mile 3 

• 2025: 16:11
• 2026: 13:11
• ⏬3:00 faster 

Fatigue gave way to steadiness.  

Mile 4 

• 2025: 16:11 
• 2026: 13:49
• ⏬2:22 faster 

Survival became rhythm. 

Mile 5

• 2025: 15:18 
• 2026: 13:28 
• ⏬1:50 faster

Consistency replaced strain. 

Mile 6 

• 2025: 17:29
• 2026: 13:47
• ⏬ 3:42 faster 

Where I slowed last year, I held strong this year. 

Cadence & Effort: The Invisible Wins 

• Average Cadence 2025: 136 
• Average Cadence 2026: 154 

That shift signals: 

• Better running efficiency
• Less over-striding
• More sustainable mechanics
• Stronger pacing awareness

Last year: moderate effort. 

This year: hard, but controlled. 

Higher effort. Far better outcome. 

The Takeaway

I didn't just run faster in 2026. 

I removed the slow miles. 

I trusted my body. 

I stayed present when it got hard. 

And that's what 16 minutes of progress really looks like. 

She powered through. 

Not by force. 

But by faith, wisdom, and choice. 

And yes, I would do it again.

Actually...I plan to do it again. 💛

With joy and gratitude,

Stacie J

The Invisible Barrier

Throughout my life, I've heard people talk about the frustration of reaching a certain point only to be met with an invisible barrier that seemingly stops them in their tracks. A wall you didn't see coming. A resistance you can't quite explain. 

I know that barrier well. I've met it more times than I care to count.

One example I rarely talk about is my educational journey. When I first began my associate's degree, I was met with health issues, marital challenges, and family struggles. The weight of it all felt relentless. Still, I pressed on and earned my Associate of Arts. 

From there, I pursued my bachelor's degree, first in vocal performance, then later shifting gears to Community Studies and Civic Engagement (the long way to say Nonprofit Management). But not without almost quitting altogether. 

Yes, you read that right. 

I was only weeks away from applying for graduation when everything in my life began to unravel.

I was exhausted—spiritually, physically, mentally. I told several professors that I planned to quit because I simply had nothing left to give.  

At the same time, my home was slipping into foreclosure. I felt exposed. Ashamed. Like a fraud who had somehow convinced everyone else I was holding it together. 

But clearly, God had other plans. 

Some of the most unsuspecting professors came alongside me. They sat with me. They listened. They didn't rush to fix anything. They simply stayed. And in their staying, they helped me find my footing again. 

Together, we created a plan to finish strong when I no longer believed I could. I applied for incompletes in a few classes. I was still allowed to walk the stage during the Spring of 2008, but my degree would not be released until every requirement was fulfilled by the final deadline. 

And I did it.

I finished.

I'm writing about this now because the world feels like it's on fire — and so does my own life. Once again, just as I am preparing to elevate, I'm being met with obstacle after obstacle. Challenge after challenge. That familiar resistance. That invisible barrier. 

This brings me back to The Dream Giver by Dr. Bruce Wilkinson, a book I reread nearly every year. Each time, it reveals something new. It reminds me of how Ordinary was called to leave what was familiar. How family and friends tried to convince him to turn back. How giants rose up to stop him. And the moment that always stands out most to me is when Ordinary encounters the invisible wall of fear. 

It wasn't something outside of him. It was within him. The barrier wasn't meant to destroy him — it was meant to be confronted. To be pushed through. To stretch him beyond comfort and into calling. 

If I could offer a word of encouragement to my future self, or to anyone reading this, it would be this:

You have overcome invisible barriers before.

You did not break under the weight of the unknown. You rose. You healed. You grew stronger and wiser. What did you learn then that carried you to where you are now?

And if you must look back, do so only to remember how far you've come, not to return to old patterns, old thoughts, old people, or old places. 

You are more than a conqueror.

You have a proven track record of doing hard things and of pressing forward when quitting felt easier. 

So go ahead; do it again.

God is with you. 

Faithfully,

Stacie J. 

The Holy Trinity of Self-Care

Why Mind, Body, and Spirit Are Essential for Sustainable Leadership and Wellbeing

The Arrival

2026 arrived not with chaos, but with a calm, catalyzing momentum, quietly preparing us for the presence and perception of what lies ahead. Like every New Year, it entered with loud celebrations:  bangs, cheers, laughter, dancing, and hopeful hearts. And like so many Januaries before it, it also arrived carrying grief; a cluster of losses, familiar names now held in memory. 

Honoring Love

Today, I pause to honor my loved ones, past and present. Thank you for living. For loving. For fighting. For caring, sharing, and building. Your lives mattered. Your imprint remains. 

The Holy Trinity of Self-care

As I reflect, my thoughts turn to the Holy Trinity. Yes, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And, also to what I've come to call the holy trinity of self-care: mind, body, and spirit. 

This framing reminds me that care is not separate from faith; it is an expression of it. 

As a health and wellness coach and a fierce advocate for whole-body wellness and policies that support it, I am continually reminded that we are not separate from the divine. 

Scripture reminds us, "Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in your midst?" (1 Corinthians 3:16).

Sustainable Leadership and Wellbeing

To be human is to carry both burden and beauty, along with the responsibility of stewardship, not perfection, but care. To care for our mental health, physical bodies, and spiritual alignment is not indulgent; it is sacred. 

Sacred Work

Care. Intention. Reverence for the bodies and lives we inhabit. If we truly believe that God lives within us, then tending to our mental health, physical well-being, and spiritual alignment is not optional; it is sacred work. 

Invitation

This year, I invite you to reconsider what self-care means for you. Not as a trend. Not as a luxury. But as an act of devotion to your calling, your community, and the life entrusted to you. Honor the temple. Tend the whole. And move forward with intention. 

If this resonates, I'd love to continue the conversation through writing, coaching, and community. 

With loving care,

Stacie J.

From Intention to Finish Line

The Journey of Miles, Milestones, and Memories Part IV

One Decision I Did Not Quit

On November 16, 2025, I joined a small global community: the 1% who have completed a marathon. 

I did not fully understand how powerful that moment would feel until I crossed the finish line. 

I kept going. I finished. I became a marathoner.

This was not just a test of endurance. It was a living, breathing lesson in commitment, self-trust, and follow-through. Below is how my marathon unfolded, mile by mile, and what each stretch of pavement taught me.

My Pace

• Mile 1: 13:13
• Mile 2: 13:38 
• Mile 3: 13:24 
• Mile 4: 13:30 
• Mile 5: 13:20 
• Mile 6: 13:50 
• Mile 7: 16:15 
• Mile 8: 13:40 
• Mile 9: 14:46 
• Mile 10: 16:00 
• Mile 11: 15:09 
• Mile 12: 15:07 
• Mile 13: 15:37 
• Mile 14: 17:04 
• Mile 15: 21:30 
• Mile 16: 16:25 
• Mile 17: 18:03 
• Mile 18: 19:11 
• Mile 19: 18:18 
• Mile 20: 17:50 
• Mile 21: 17:36 
• Mile 22: 17:01 
• Mile 23: 17:31 
• Mile 24: 15:50 
• Mile 25: 16:21 
• Mile 26: 14:37 

What the Marathon Taught Me

• I paced the early miles with discipline, not ego. 
• I met the wall and climbed over it. 
• I stayed consistent when comfort disappeared.
• I finished my final full mile faster than miles 14-23. 
• I completed my first marathon in 7:00:18, with an average pace of 16:03. 
• I started in Wave 7 at 7:24 AM and crossed the finish line at 2:34 PM: On time and on purpose. 
• Most importantly, I never quit on myself. 

This was more than a race. 

It was healing. It was discipline. It was my declaration that entering 50 would be intentional, grounded, and powerful. 

The Moments I Didn't Expect

• I stopped 3-4 times to use the restroom and released the need to rush. 
• I paused to check on other runners, offering encouragement, sharing Biofreeze, and teaching stretches.
• I experienced painful cramps between miles 15-17 and chose wisdom over force. 
• I danced Miles 18 and 19 because joy carried me when muscles could not.
• I climbed brutal hills between Miles 20-22 and did not stop. (Although I did question my decision-making skills and why I decided running a marathon was a good birthday gift idea).
• I refilled my water bottles at every hydration station, and my running belt definitely mattered.

These moments slowed my pace, but they strengthened my purpose. They made my finish richer, deeper, and more aligned with who I am. 

What Finishing Changed

This marathon was not about proving strength, winning, or being the fastest bunny on the trail (pun intended because we all know that story about the Tortoise and the Hare). It was about the honoring process. It was about listening to my body, trusting my preparation, and choosing perseverance again and again, long after the applause faded. 

• I finished what I started. 
• Not perfectly. 
• Not quickly. 
• But faithfully.

And here is what I know now:

• You do not have to be fast to be faithful.
• You do not have to be loud to be powerful. 
• You do not have to be fearless to finish, only willing. 

Whatever race you are running: physical, emotional, spiritual, or generational, commit to seeing it through. Pace yourself. Rest when needed. Ask for help. Offer help. Choose joy when the miles feel long. 

And when you reach your finish line, stand firmly in this truth:

• You kept going. 
• You finished. 
• You honored your word to yourself.

This is The Journey of Miles, Milestones, and Memories. 

And it is still unfolding. 

With joy, resolve, and a finishing spirit,

Stacie J. 

Mindset Shift

Choosing to Challenge Myself 

The Journey of Miles, Milestones, and Memories - Part III

A Golden Year Decision

Last year was my golden year. It was the year that I made radical decisions to meet this new season in my life with movement, courage, and curiosity rather than caution. 

Setting An Intention Bigger Than Fear

So I set an intention for 2025 that felt both bold and improbable, and that was to tackle three 5Ks, two 10Ks, and one marathon, with more than a decade from any previous running. It was not about proving anything to anyone else. It was about listening to the part of me that wanted to see what was possible when I stopped negotiating with fear and started honoring my capacity to grow. 

Training as Exploration, Not Punishment

I began training in the fall of 2024, not with rigid rules or punishment, but with exploration. Training became an invitation to move more, breathe deeper, and rebuild trust with my body. I registered for the She Power 10K in Chandler, Arizona, and suddenly the journey had a destination, but the real work was happening long before race day. 

Finding Strength Through Variety and Community

I had joined ClassPass and said yes to new experiences: yoga, barre, Pilates, cycling, kickboxing, HIIT, boxing. Each class taught me something different, not just about strength or endurance, but about rhythm, recovery, and resilience. I found spaces that felt like home, like Urban Yoga, Jabz Kickboxing, CycleBar, and Title I Boxing with Mr. Frazier. These were places where community mattered as much as performance.

Learning to Adjust Without Quitting

On days when motivation faded, I adjusted rather than quit. I walked indoors while watching my K-dramas because sometimes outdoors felt unreasonable, especially on 100+ degree days. I tracked my movement in ways that felt encouraging, not obsessive. Closing my rings, meeting my steps, and showing up became quiet promises I kept to myself. 

When the Shift Became Visible

Slowly, something shifted. 

My pace improved. My confidence followed. What once took nearly an hour per mile began to settle into something steadier, something stronger. I ran when I could with the Black AZ Run Club, and even when I wasn't consistent, I was inspired, especially by women my age reclaiming their speed, their stamina, and their joy. 

The She Power 10K: Testing the Edge

Then came January 26, 2025. The She Power 10K.

It was my first 10k EVER! I hadn't even completed an official 5K before, but something in me was ready to test the edge of what I believed I could do. The rules were clear: complete the first 5K in under 45 minutes to qualify to continue the full 10K. I started near the back of the pack, which meant I had to move with intention from the very beginning. 

I jogged.

I walked with purpose. 

I breathed through discomfort. 

I listened to my body and kept going. 

Witnessing Myself in Motion

This race was not about winning. It was about witnessing myself in motion; legs trembling, knee aching, spirit steady. It was about discovering that I could do hard things without rushing, without comparison, without abandoning myself in the process. 

A Mindset Shift That Reaches Beyond the Road

This was a mindset shift. Not just in running, but in life. 

The journey taught me that growth doesn't require perfection, only presence. That progress is often quiet. And that the most meaningful victories are the ones that change how you see yourself long after the finish line fades. 

Still Becoming

This is the heart of Miles, Milestones, and Memories: learning to enjoy the journey, honor the body you're in, and trust that every step, no matter the pace, counts!

And, I'm still just getting started. 

Mindfully, 

Stacie J. 

Eyes That See

There is no denying it, the world feels loud right now. 
Wars and rumors of wars. Political unrest and public unraveling.

Battles over land, power, resources, narratives. 
Families divided. Communities strained. Fear fed daily, hourly, endlessly. 

And, if this is all we see, exhaustion makes sense. 

But for those with eyes that see, all is not as it appears. 

Although the headlines shout conflict, monks continue to walk for peace. Mothers are still gathering in prayer. Fathers are still rising, quietly, steadily, into leadership and care. Strangers are still walking and running side by side, encouraging one another through breath, stride, and shared humanity. 

Love still stands. Peace still walks. Kindness still wins. 

These stories don't trend like the others. They don't incite outrage. They don't keep us scrolling. But they are no less real. 

We are being asked daily to choose what we consume, what we amplify, and what we allow to shape our inner world. 

Fear is loud, but it is not powerful on its own. It requires attention to survive. 

Love, on the other hand, is quieter. Like honey, it draws without force. As flies are drawn more readily to sweetness than vinegar, so too are hearts drawn to compassion, humility, and truth spoken with care. 

This is not a call to denial. It is a call to discernment. To look beyond the flames stoked for profit and control. To notice where peace is already at work. 

To participate, not in panic, but in presence. 

The call to action is simple, and yet profound:

See differently. Choose what you feed your spirit. Be a carrier of the very qualities you wish the world had more of. Because when enough of us decide to see, truly see, fear loses its grip. 

And what remains is the quiet, unshakable truth: Even now, especially now, love is still at work in the world. 

May you have eyes to see, and a heart open enough to change the narrative with love, despite the noise. 

With gentleness and love,

Stacie J.  

Before The Noise

The quiet ripple of peace

Last night, I slept. 

Peacefully, held by the distant thunder of fireworks and celebration. The sky spoke in bursts of color and sound, and at first, the dogs startled at every kaboom, their bodies tense with confusion. I drew them close, arms wrapping reassurance around their trembling frames. I whispered calm without words. Eventually, their breathing slowed. Mine did too. We slept. 

When I woke at 3 a.m., the house was still; sacred in its silence. The dogs lay tangled together, somehow curled and sprawled all at once, bellies exposed, paws twitching in dreams. I smiled. I gave thanks for their peace and recognized the quiet truth resting there with us: my calm had become their calm. My rest, their rest. Peace is contagious when it's embodied. 

I drifted back into sleep and woke again to morning light slipping softly through the cracks of the window; gentle, unannounced, patient. For a moment, instinct urged me to rise quickly, to move, to do. Then I remembered: how I begin matters. 

So I stayed still. 

One hand on my heart. One on my stomach. I checked in. I slowed my breath. I calmed my nervous system. I cleared the static of thought and gave thanks for this day, for their peace, for mine. I smiled toward heaven, grateful for being carried through 2025 and welcomed into 2026. Gratitude settled me into my body like an anchor. 

Then I rose and stepped into the world. 

My first run of the new year was unhurried and present. Each step met the earth with awareness. Each breath welcomed the air as if it were new. Scripture passed through my mind, not demanding attention, just offering companionship. I acknowledged it and kept moving. 

When my thoughts tried to rush ahead to lists, responsibilities, and expectations, I gently redirected them.

We move with grace. 
With calm.
With peace.
With ease. 

All is well. All unfolds in divine timing. There is nothing to chase. There is only this moment to inhabit fully, this breath, this body, this now. 

And that is how the year began. 

Let your presence be the atmosphere you carry. 
Let your peace lead your steps. 
Let your beginning be shaped with intention, gratitude, and God. 

Welcome to the first day of a new year!

With love, 

Stacie J. 

Held, Healed, Here

The Year Unfolded

As 2025 comes to a close, I find myself pausing with gratitude and honesty. 

This year was one of deep personal accomplishment, intentional rest, and steady endurance. I built strength mentally, physically, and spiritually. This was often done quietly without applause. I learned how to overcome new obstacles strategically, without rushing or forcing outcomes. I stretched myself beyond familiar edges, while also settling more fully into my softness. 

There were moments of laughter that surprised me, smiles that came easily, and tears; some born from joy, others from release. Still, when I look back, 2025 feels like a year rooted in goodness. 

I spent time reflecting on the experiences, lessons, and relationships that helped shape the woman I am today. Some things received a gentle nod of appreciation. Others I waved goodbye, especially the ones I no longer need to carry, like anger. Letting go felt less like loss and more like freedom. 

I step into this next season bolder and more confident, no longer reliant on outside validation or constant stimulation. I've learned to enjoy my own company. To create simply because it brings me joy. To find fulfillment in the smallest, quietest moments. 

As I look ahead to 2026, I expect exceptional experiences to unfold, and I welcome what's coming with grace and ease. 

To you, dear readers, the ones who faithfully read, respond, and send words of encouragement, thank you for being a part of my journey. This year welcomed many new countries, and I look forward to continuing this journey with you in 2026. 

Reflective invitation: 

1. As you reflect on 2025, what did you learn about yourself this year?
   
   
2. What are you carrying forward into 2026?
   
   
3. What are you ready to release?

As the year turns, may you honor what carried you here, release what no longer serves you, and step forward with trust in your becoming. 

Here's to 2026! Entered with intention, met with openness, and lived with grace. 

With grace and peace,

Stacie J.

The Journey of Miles, Milestones, and Memories - Part II

Grit Over Glamour: The Walk No One Applauds

Walking looks pretty right now, but it has not always been that way for me. 

Even after a year of walking, trotting, and running, there are still days when I simply do not want to move. There are mornings when motivation feels distant, when my body feels heavy, or when life has taken more than I expected it to. 

Doing something you do not feel like doing requires grit. It requires a commitment to yourself and a quiet determination that does not rely on applause, prizes, or public accountability. 

It is easy to stay motivated when there is a clear goal at the end: a medal, a gift, a finish line, or when others are watching. But what about the days when no one is there to hold you accountable? What about the seasons of sickness, injury, grief, or unexpected life disruptions?

Those are the moments that test why we move at all. 

When I struggle, I remind myself that my movement is not only for me. I am moving my body for the generations that came before me. For their sacrifices, their resilience, and their unfinished healing. And even more so, I move for those coming behind me. 

Carrying the Lineage, One Step at a Time

I am the chosen generation. 

Not chosen for perfection. 
Not chosen for performance.

Chosen to set a standard.  Not of excellence, but of continuous progress. 
Chosen to keep going, even when it's slow. 
Chosen to honor my body, my story, and my lineage through movement.

Some days, walking is graceful and light. Other days, it is simply an act of faith. 

And on those days, that is enough.

So if today requires grit instead of grace, know that you are still moving forward. Every step you take carries memory, meaning, and momentum. The strength of those who came before you lays the groundwork for those who will follow. 

This is the heart of The Journey of Miles, Milestones, and Memories; movement as legacy, healing, and quiet rebellion against giving up. 

In the next installment, I will explore how endurance reshapes identity and why staying in motion matters even more when the road feels uncertain.  

In Health Solidarity, 

Coach Stacie
Embracing Me Wellness — one healed story at a time

The Journey of Miles, Milestones, and Memories - Part I

And That About Wraps It Up

Thank you for joining me on this year-long journey and for supporting the 50/50/50 Miles, Milestones, and Memories Campaign. Your support fuels Embracing Me Wellness, a soft landing place for women to rediscover the whole self through creativity, movement, reflection, and gentle community. 

Your support also sustains our quarterly Power of Pause gatherings, where women come together to receive the same compassion, care, and nourishment we so often pour into others. These gatherings are intentional spaces; no performing, no proving, simply being. We sit in community, reflect, meditate, share a meal, breathe deeply, and hold space for one another without fear of judgment. 

We rest. 

We journal. 

We reconnect with the parts of ourselves we often silence. 

Thank You 

For Your:

• Prayers
• Presence at the quarterly events
• Miles walked or run alongside me from October 24-November 24,2025
• Encouragement, generosity, and support
  
  

Thank You To The Founding 50

Constance G. 

Myeisha T. 

Chris and Kate T. 

Stevie

Melanie F. 

Stefanie

Roger C.

Victor & Nataki R.

Michelle G. 

Lena B. 

And the many who chose to remain anonymous

Thank You For Purchasing Campaign T-shirts

Your continued support directly helps reduce financial barriers for women seeking wellness, community, and healing practices.
 

Special Thanks To Our Sponsors & Partners

Amani Massage & Wellness

Berry Berry Best Acai Bowls

Blak Steel Fitness

One Stop Barbershop

Lighthouse Catering
Flow With Fe Yoga
Love, Light, and Peace Apparel LLC

More to come on the journey to 50 and beyond! Stay tuned!

With Gratitude, 

Stacie J.

Beneath the Sky

Cultivating Inner Peace

Have you ever stretched out on the grass, face turned upward, and just watched the sky?

By day, the sky mirrors water: soft, flowing, alive. Clouds drift and dance like whispers of wind, inviting our imaginations to wander. By night, the stars shimmer and twinkle against a blanket of darkness, reminding us that even in shadow, light still dares to shine. 

Since the great stillness of 2020, we've all been learning to live again, but differently this time. We've had to rewrite our narratives, reshape our perspectives, and rediscover what truly matters. We've been learning the quiet art of communication, not just with others, but with ourselves. We've been learning what it means to belong, to grieve, to heal, and to grow all at once. 

And maybe, most importantly, we've been learning how to stay rooted to the earth beneath our feet, to the people who hold space for us, and to the version of ourselves we're still becoming. 

Yes, the world hums with noise and distractions. But even amid the chaos, we have the power to cultivate peace, to tend the garden of our hearts with intention. Relationships, like gardens, require care and patience. Everyone carries their own story, their own way of seeing. Yet we still get to choose how we show up with compassion, curiosity, and love. 

So, take a moment. Step outside. Breathe deeply. Look up. The same sky that has watched over generations before you still holds space for your becoming. 

Affirmation:

I am both rooted and rising, grounded in who I am, and open to who I am still becoming. 

Question to Reflect On: 

What part of your life is asking you to slow down, listen, and grow differently this time?

Embracing Me Reaches 90,000 Views

My heart is full...

Today did not begin gracefully. My body felt heavy, my spirit wavered, and I quietly wondered how much more strength I had for the day ahead. 

And then I saw it.

90,008 views.
73 countries.
6 continents.

Embracing Me, a simple space I created to breathe healing, hope, and honest reflection into the world, is being read across the globe. 

And today… that truth reached deeper than analytics ever could.

I sat here with tears in my eyes because this isn’t just a number, but proof that stories heal, vulnerability travels, and light always finds its way.

To every heart, in every country, every time zone, every language…

        Thank you! Merci! Gracias! Asante! Amesegenallo! 

E se! Salamat! Dhanyavaad! Obrigada! Danke! Grazie! Sulpayki! Aguyje! Gamsahamnida! Xiexie!

Thank you for reading.
Thank you for quietly returning.
Thank you for sharing this space with me, even if we’ve never met.

We are connected on purpose, and I believe the healing of one sparks healing in another.

I believe with everything in me that the world is ready for restoration.

If you are reading this right now, please know:

You are part of this unfolding.
You are proof that hope still spreads.
And I am so honored you are here. 

                                                 

With joy, gratitude, and a heart wide open,

Stacie J. 

The God Who Weeps:

Finding Strength in Honest Emotions

I often hear people say, “If you trust God, then you shouldn’t be sad, angry, or upset.” But I don’t believe this is sound biblical teaching. 

The Bible is full of examples of God Himself expressing emotion: righteous anger, grief, compassion, even jealousy (Exodus 34:14; John 11:35; Mark 3:5). 

To dismiss our own emotions as weakness overlooks the truth that we are made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). That means the capacity to feel deeply is not a flaw, it is part of the divine imprint within us. 

Of course, some might counter with, “But God is sovereign; He can do whatever He wants.” That is true according to Psalm 115:3, and yet, the other truth remains: God created us to bear His likeness. Our emotions, when surrendered and aligned with Him, can become bridges to deeper intimacy. 

David poured out his sorrow and frustration in the Psalms (Psalm 13; Psalm 42:11). 

Jeremiah is called “the weeping prophet” (Jeremiah 9:1). 

Even Jesus withdrew to solitary places to pray and wept openly (Luke 5:16; John 11:35). 

Scripture does not demand emotional suppression; it invites honesty before God. 

The world, however, is loud with its opinions. Noise about how to worship, how to pray, how to behave in church, how to measure faith. Yet beyond the commands to love God, love your neighbor (Matthew 22:37–39), and to fellowship together (Hebrews 10:24–25), there is no rigid formula dictating how an individual must engage God. 

Worship is not confined to pews or pulpits. Worship is also in the tending of the temple of our bodies (1 Corinthians 6:19–20), in the care of our spirits, in listening for the still, small voice of God (1 Kings 19:12). 

As I reflect on history, I wonder how and when the Church became so fragmented. I know some of the context: the union of church and state, the Crusades, denominational splits, but I also believe tradition often overshadows the heart of God.

Jesus consistently pushed back against the weight of man-made rules that distorted God’s intent (Mark 7:6–8). People still, at times, choose to worship leaders rather than God Himself. That’s not a judgment—just an observation. 

Some lead with fear, some with charisma, some with genuine love, and sadly, some with manipulation. Which is why I’ve learned to value wise counsel while still seeking God personally for how I am to live, serve, and worship. 

True worship, I believe, is expressed in tangible acts of service (Matthew 25:35–36), in caring for those in need, in gathering in community, and in stealing away for quiet moments of prayer and renewal. 

I love small groups, learning in community, and the sweetness of fellowship. Yet as an empath, I also need solitude—time to just be with God. Even Jesus modeled this balance (Luke 5:16). 

This world will always hand us rules and expectations. But ultimately, it is you and God who will walk your path together. Don’t let the cares of this life pull you in a hundred directions. Be grounded, like a tree planted by streams of living water (Psalm 1:3). Find peace within, for God intended us not merely to exist but to live abundantly (John 10:10). Nature itself testifies to God’s design—a rhythm of rootedness, growth, and flourishing. 

Closing Reflection: 

When we strip away the noise of tradition, judgment, and human expectation, what remains is God’s invitation to be fully alive, emotions and all. To walk with Him in honesty, not pretense. To love, to weep, to grow angry at injustice, to rejoice in beauty, to rest in His presence. 

If we are made in His image, then our humanity is not a flaw to be hidden but a reflection of His own heart. The world will always demand more rules, more masks, more performance. But God desires your presence, not your perfection. 

So breathe deep. Root yourself like the tree by living waters. Let your life be worship, not just your words. And in all things, remember, you are not alone on this journey. God sees you. God knows you. And God delights in you, even here, even now.

With Love,

Stacie J. 

The Lord Weighs the Heart:

Finding Grace in the Midst of Disagreement 

How a devotional reminded me that conviction and compassion can live side by side 

Today’s reflection was sparked by a devotional reading from Joshua Dubois’ The President’s Devotional. His words presented me with both a challenge and an invitation to reconsider how I approach disagreement in my own life. 

In his devotional, Dubois reflected on a heated policy debate and realized something vital: 

“You can question policy decisions. You can disagree with people—even vehemently. But you should be very, very careful before you question others’ motives…The Lord weighs the heart—not me, not anyone else but God.”
 

— Joshua Dubois, The President’s Devotional. 

That struck me. 

Too often, especially in our political climate, we turn disagreements into character assassinations. We make people who see things differently into our enemies. But what if, like Dubois, we chose another way? What if we fought passionately for what we believe, but also recognized that others are doing the same from their vantage point? 

This landed deeply because I know what it’s like to live on the vulnerable side of policy. 

Years ago, I received a small raise, just one dollar more than the income threshold for state health coverage. That “extra” dollar disqualified my children from medical care, but it wasn’t nearly enough for me to afford private insurance. I was a working mother, stretched thin, and my kids went without consistent healthcare for a season. Bills piled up. The stress was heavy.

That experience solidified my conviction in health equity, particularly for women, children, the elderly, veterans, and other vulnerable populations. 

So yes, I hold strong convictions. I know the stakes of policy decisions because I’ve lived them. But Dubois’ reminder helped me see something crucial: my convictions don’t give me the right to judge someone else’s heart. 

Proverbs 21:2 says, “Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the heart.” God alone sees the inner landscape of a person’s intentions. 

As I reflect, I realize that perhaps our true “enemies” aren’t other people at all, but our unchecked egos, our fear, and our unwillingness to listen. 

What might change if we approached political, personal, or even family disagreements with humility: seeking not just to win, but to understand? 

My hope is that we can begin to find middle ground. Not a ground where everyone gets everything they want, but one where human dignity and care are safeguarded on all sides. A ground where we argue policy hard and fair, but resist the temptation to call someone’s heart corrupt simply because it beats differently from our own. 

Reflection Questions: 

1. Where have your personal experiences shaped your convictions?
    
2. Can you recall a time when you assumed someone’s motives instead of listening to their perspective? 
   
   
3. What would it look like to “fight hard and fair” in your own context: at work, at home, or in the community? 

With thoughtful reflection, 

Stacie J. 

 

60 Day Countdown To 50!

Miles, Milestones, and Memories

  

This is my golden year of turning 50! I am super excited and feel absolutely delighted that today marks the 2-month countdown to my birthday! 

This year has been filled with more self-reflection than I think I've done all my life. I feel that I've changed in such deep and divine ways. 

For those of you who have been following the journey, you've witnessed a remarkable transformation. 

I have literally been running races, not fainting or giving in...and trust me, sometimes I wanted to. Like when my body tried to throw me off with an uninvited cyst this year. 

I'm shedding weight and pounds (literally and figuratively). 

Overcoming fears, challenges, and setbacks like they were unwanted guests, I finally dared to kick out. Pressing forward towards the mark of the higher calling within me...I mean, because when you live for half a century, your perspective doesn't just shift, it deepens. 

You put on internal glasses, flex the muscles you've worked hard to build while simultaneously developing new ones you never imagined could blossom. And, suddenly, so much of what you carried in the first half of your life seems completely unimportant. 

People may not always understand me, and that's okay. Sometimes they judge what they see and often what they don't see, and that's okay too, because I am focused on continuing to grow. I'm starting to develop a love for reading things that are not academically inclined. 

I am reengineering my life, rewiring old circuits, tossing out the tangled cords of past trauma, and still keeping my heart intact (even while lending it out to support others). As my good Sis, Ubani always says, multiple things can be true at the same time. 

I am super grateful for all the people who have given to my 50/50/50 Campaign for my wellness and coaching business. 

And now, here's how you can celebrate with me:

From October 24th - November 24th, I'll be walking and running 50 miles in 30 days while raising $50,000 to expand my coaching and wellness services for women.

This isn't just a birthday; it's a movement of healing, legacy, and joy in motion. Whether you join the 50-mile challenge, donate, or simply cheer me on, you are part of this journey. Every mile, every milestone, every memory counts...yes, even the sweaty ones! 

Ways to get involved:

👟 If you would like to join the Virtual Walk/Run Challenge, click here: 50/50/50 Virtual Walk/Run Registration Form

🧧 If you would like to give, click here: 50/50/50 Campaign Donation

🎉 If you would like to send a message of encouragement, support, or early birthday greetings, email me at GodsGiftLLC@gmail.com 

With Joy, Excitement, and a Touch of Sweat,  

Stacie J. 

Finding Balance in the Everyday: Movement, Nourishment, and Creativity

Movement, Nourishment, and Creativity

This morning I chose balance.
Not the frantic kind that demands perfection,
but the gentle kind that whispers, “Here; start here.”

I laced my shoes, leashed the dogs, and stepped into the fresh air.

For an hour, we walked...not rushing, not dragging, just enough to feel my heart beating in a mild, steady rhythm. The breeze brushed my cheeks, the sun reached between the trees, and for a while, I was part of the quiet dance of the morning.

Back home, I turned to nourishment. Garlic, kale, onions, turmeric, red and yellow peppers met the sizzle of olive oil, releasing aromas that felt like medicine. I folded them into an omelet, crowned it with creamy slices of avocado, and added a pinch of salt. Food as fuel, yes, but also food as a gesture of gratitude.

With my body moved and nourished, I turned to creativity. A few moments with my pen and notebook. Some colors on a page. Space to let my mind wander into possibilities.

This, I’m learning, is balance:

Movement that energizes, food that heals, and creativity that replenishes.
It’s not about rigid schedules; it’s about weaving together small choices that let you feel whole.

Reflection

Balance is not a fixed destination; it’s a series of gentle adjustments. It’s the way you choose to pause when life tries to rush you, nourish when the day demands more of you, and create when your soul craves expression.

Journaling Prompt

Where in your daily life could you add a small moment of movement, nourishment, or creativity to bring yourself closer to balance?

With thoughtful reflection,  

Stacie J. 

When Heaven Says Yes:

 Speaking Life into Your Healing

How do you use your words and the power of God's written Word to speak healing into your life?

For me, I've learned that what we speak inwardly and outwardly shapes our reality. I didn't always know this. There were seasons when my thoughts ran unchecked, my words carried more fear than faith, and my body felt the weight of it. But over time, God showed me that my voice is not just sound, it is power!

"Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit."

(Proverbs 18:21)

That verse isn't just poetry. It's a law of life. What we say matters. Our words build or break, heal or harm, uplift or undo. When I began practicing speaking life over myself, God's Word, affirmations of truth, and declarations of faith, I noticed something shift. My mind became calmer. My body carried less stress. My spirit felt nourished. 

One of the voices that inspired me along the way was Florence Scovel Shinn, an early 20th-century teacher who believed in the power of words, faith, and divine order. Her affirmations remind me of biblical truth: that God is not a God of confusion but of order (1 Corinthians 14:33), and that when we align with the word, we walk in clarity, peace, and power. I often take her affirmations and repurpose them through the lens of scripture, creating declarations that feel like a conversation between my soul and the Spirit of God. 

For example, instead of rushing through my morning in worry, I pause and declare:

• God has ordered my steps today (Psalm 37:23).
• I trust that what is for me cannot pass me by (Romans 8:28).
• Every detour is preparation, not punishment (Jeremiah 29:11)

When I begin my day this way, I feel anchored. I know I am walking in divine flow. Even delays and disruptions no longer shake me because I believe God is orchestrating all things for my good. 

                                       

"You will also decree a thing, and it will be established for you; and light will shine on your ways." (Job 22:28)

That's why I speak boldly, because faith is not silent. Faith has a voice. And when I speak what God says about me, that I am beloved, chosen, healed, whole, prosperous...Heaven responds with yes. 

So I ask you: 

What are you saying to yourself today? Are your words aligned with God's truth, or are they rehearsing old wounds, doubts, and fears?

Every morning, I choose to declare divine order over my mind, body, spirit, and affairs. I affirm that I am in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing. And when I don't feel it yet, I still say it. Because what begins as faith spoken in hope becomes faith fulfilled in reality.

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1)

Friend, you have the same authority. Your words are seeds. Plant them well, water them daily, and watch God bring forth the harvest in perfect timing. 

Sacred Soul Work Reflections: Words to Water Your Growth 

1. What words have you been speaking to yourself most often? Do they reflect faith or fear?
   
   
2. Choose one scripture that resonates with you today and rewrite it as a personal affirmation.
   
   
3. Reflect on a past season when your words shaped your outcome for better or worse. What did you learn?
   
   
4. What does "divine order" mean to you, and how can you invite more of it into your daily rhythm?
   
   
5. Write out 3 faith-filled declarations you want to begin speaking over your life each morning.
   
   

Warmly, 

Stacie J. 

The Power to Flourish Is Within You

 Faith, Flourishing, and the Fruit of the Spirit

As I was out walking this morning, I noticed a tree; something about it made me pause. One side of the tree stood bare, its branches stripped, and a few crumbled leaves hung on. But the other side was flourishing, lush, full of bright, vibrant green leaves. It was like looking at two different seasons living in the same tree. And suddenly, I thought, this is life. 

Right now, we are living in a world full of stark contrasts. On one side of the same coin, there's abundance, and on the other, lack. Some are flourishing while others are just surviving. Some have peace, while others wrestle with unrest. Some have more than enough, and others are praying to make it through the day. But then I was reminded, we get to choose what flourishing looks like in our own lives. 

Yes, there are challenges. Yes, there are obstacles, most of them internal. But we still get to choose how we show up. We get to choose what we focus on. 

Do we listen to the noise of the world, or do we go inward?  We get to build ourselves up, mind, body, and spirit. We get to connect with the God within us. 

To hear the still, small voice. To dream, to envision, and then to walk boldly toward the life we know we're capable of living. 

Think it. Dream it. Become it. 

"Be strong and courageous. Overcome evil with good."

God is able to do exceedingly and abundantly above all we can ask or imagine. As mother, Mother Mincy, from Target Word Prayer Ministry would say, "Trust Him." So, who am I trusting? Are you trusting?

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path." 

We don't talk enough about how God lives within each of us. That divine spark? It's in you. God uses people, ordinary people, to bring about flourishing on this earth. And we each have a role to play. The Word says we are all members of the same body. So if you're the eye, see well. If you're the foot, walk strong. If you're the hand, mold with care. Whatever your role is, show up and serve with excellence.

The Bible also says that we will do even greater things than Jesus did. What are those greater things? What does that look like in a time when faith is being tested from every side? 

We all have some unearthing to do, mind, body, and spirit. There's healing and excavating to be done. God allows the wheat and the tares to grow together, and for a long time, I didn't understand that. But now, I'm grateful. Because without the pruning, the hardship, and the contracts, I wouldn't have this perspective on life, on God, on myself, or on my neighbor. It's easy to get caught up in ourselves. It's harder to walk the righteous path to love God, love ourselves, and love our neighbor as ourselves. 

And here's something important: Some people don't yet know how to love themselves. So they love others the way they love themselves, poorly. But instead of judging, let's extend grace. Let's offer patience, kindness, and compassion. Let's live out the fruits of the Spirit, especially when it's hardest. Don't let someone else's struggle change your heart. Love people through their pain. Love them right where they are. Forgive them whether they understand the hurt or not. 

And remember: Some plant, some water, but God gives the increase. Let God grow the good things that have been planted in you and in others. So today, love your neighbor well. But first, love yourself well. Be kind to you. Be compassionate with yourself. And keep growing. 

I love you with the love of Christ. 

Have a phenomenal day!

Stacie J.