​It’s been five years since I published my first book. At the time, I thought I’d be a one-hit wonder. But I’ve gone on to publish a total of 11 books and one audiobook. So I now confidently introduce myself as a writer, especially since I’m working on my next few manuscripts.

In recognition of my five-year authorship anniversary, I’ve been reflecting on what led me to write my first book, Move More, Your Life Depends on It. That was published in 2019, but I founded THE MOVE MORE INSTITUTE™ in 2016. It was an initiative I created to help sedentary individuals learn how to incorporate non-exercise activity into their daily lives. You know, how our grandparents used to live when they didn’t have so many labour-saving devices at their fingertips. 

Here’s a post about it from 2018, when I appeared on local television to promote my initiative:

Living in the nation’s capital—home to the federal government and a multitude of associations and institutes—I wanted a whimsical, tongue-in-cheek title for my initiative. That’s how THE MOVE MORE INSTITUTE™ came into existence. But there was nothing formal or regimented about it. In reality, I was trying to work myself out of a job. You see, as a group fitness instructor and personal trainer, many clients participated in weekly exercise with me. But for many, that was the extent of their physical activity. The rest of their waking hours, they were mostly sedentary at work and home. I was trying to inspire people to sit less, move more--even if that meant they no longer felt the need to attend my classes or hire me for personal training.

And that was a problem, because sitting had been identified as the “new smoking." You see, exercise alone isn’t enough. Daily movement that breaks up long periods of sitting is vital. I first read about this concept in the 2011 book, Sitting Kills, Moving Heals, by Dr. Joan Vernikos—the former Director of NASA’s Life Sciences Division. Vernikos was instrumental in astronaut John Glenn’s return to space at the age of 77.

​Although I wrote about Vernikos’ important work as early as 2014, Vernikos published her first book on the topic a decade earlier— The G-Connection: Harness Gravity and Reverse Aging. Although I can confidently say I’ve been ahead of my time with many of my publications, it is Dr. Vernikos’ ground-breaking research at NASA that led the movement to reduce sedentary time. When I realized in 2018 that many of my blog posts had already touched on this important topic, I knew I wanted to expand on my previous writing and turn it into a book. 

So that’s my story of how NASA inspired my writing career. If you haven’t had a chance to read Dr. Vernikos' work, I’d recommend any of her books. But my favourite is still Sitting Kills, Moving Heals.

Other books by Joan Vernikos, Ph.D.:

1. The G-Connection: Harness Gravity and Reverse Aging (2004)
2. Inactivity: Physiological Effects (2012)
3. Designed to Move: The Science-Backed Program to Fight Sitting Disease and Enjoy Lifelong Health (2016)
4. Stress Beyond 50: Tools & Wisdom For A Healthier, Longer Life (2018)

I fell this morning.
​Correction: I tripped and fell. While I was running. I’m okay, thanks for asking. Just a bit stiff and sore, but I’ll survive. No broken bones and I thankfully didn’t hit my head, so no concussion either.

Here’s how it (I) went down: It was early. It was dark. I was tired. I didn’t notice the uneven sidewalk. I didn’t lift my foot up enough—I was tired, remember? And then it happened.

It happened so fast, I didn’t even realize I was falling. So I didn’t have time to try and prevent myself from hitting the pavement at full force. All of a sudden, I was on the ground thinking to myself, “What just happened?!”

That’s the problem with falling: when it happens, it happens fast. You often don’t have enough time to react. And as we get older, our reaction times slow down even more. Coupled with the fact that our bones can become more brittle, falls in older adults can be life-altering. In some cases, falls can be life-threatening. 

According to the Canadian Institute for Health Information (CIHI), falls account for 80% of seniors’ injury hospitalizations. Those same seniors make up half of the injury hospitalizations in Canada. That means when a senior falls, they’re more likely to be severely injured. And if you’ve fallen once, you’re more likely to fall a second time within the next 18 months.

These life-altering falls reduce a person’s independence—they often can no longer stay living in their own home. 

What’s the solution? Avoid falling. I’m not being facetious: fall prevention is a big deal and can mean the difference between injury, hospitalization, even death. Simple exercises that don’t require special equipment, fancy clothing, or sweating. They can be done in your own home. Ideally, they should be done every day to improve balance, coordination, and mobility. These exercises increase muscle and bone strength, as well as posture—which is important to avoid a momentum-based fall.

Not sure where to start? I’ve published 5 books of balance exercises for fall prevention:

1. Balance Exercises for Fall Prevention. It’s available in English and Spanish, as well as in audiobook format.
2. Balance and Your Body: How Exercise Can Help You Avoid a Fall
3. Balance 2.0: Preventing Falls with Exercise
4. Chair Exercises for Fall Prevention

It's clear that fall prevention is more important than ever. But, how can we reduce the risk of falls and stay active and independent as we age?​

The answer is simple: balance exercises. Regular exercise is essential for maintaining strength, flexibility, and balance, which are all critical factors in reducing the risk of falls. The problem is that many older adults struggle to find an exercise routine that is safe, effective, and easy to follow. That's where my new audiobook, Balance Exercises for Fall Prevention, comes in.
Fall prevention is about maintaining independence in our golden years. This allows you to stay in your own home longer.

Balance Exercises for Fall Prevention is a comprehensive guide to the best balance exercises for seniors. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced exerciser, this audiobook provides a wide range of exercises that are easy to follow and can be done from the comfort of your own home. With clear instructions, helpful tips, and modifications for different abilities, you'll be able to tailor your workout to meet your needs and achieve your goals.

One of the best things about Balance Exercises for Fall Prevention is that it's an audiobook, so you can listen and follow along while you exercise. This makes it easy to stay focused and motivated, even when you're feeling tired or uninspired. With regular use, you'll see improvement in your balance, coordination, and overall health, and you'll have the peace of mind of knowing you're reducing your risk of falls.

So, why wait? Start your journey to better balance and fall prevention today with Balance Exercises for Fall Prevention. Whether you're looking for a comprehensive exercise program, a way to stay active and independent, or simply a way to improve your overall health, this audiobook has everything you need.

Try it for free with a 30-day, no-cost trial of Audible.

Late last year—as in, days before the Christmas break—I walked away from my job for the same reasons. I had hit a wall and it was impacting my physical and emotional health. I equate my burnout to a raw onion: it makes your eyes water, leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and can cause indigestion.

I had had enough. My body had had enough. Right before I packed it in, every work email was triggering a fight or flight response: sheer panic about more tasks and responsibilities landing on my plate. 

Post-resignation hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. It’s been messy and complicated. And it still feels like an onion, where peeling back the layers of recovery requires strength. Not to mention patience in dealing with that sticky onion layer that doesn’t want to let go.

As I’ve peeled these layers back in my own life, I’d like to share with you some of the layers I’ve been through, in hopes that they might help you in your journey back from burnout. 

1. Get comfortable with discomfort (yours and others). The discomfort is just one of many layers you need to peel away, and this one has multiple layers. I’ve had many sleepless nights since I left my job. At first, it was all about my brain processing what had led to the moment when I decided that quitting that very day was the best action. The discomfort here came from reliving a lot of little things that, taken on their own, shouldn’t cause employee burnout. But added up with all the other little things, well, let’s just say the sum of the parts is greater than the whole. 
The next layer of discomfort came from thinking about my colleagues. I felt like I was letting them down by leaving with work on my plate, some of which they would have to pick up and manage along with their own workloads. Unmanageable workloads seem to be quite common in many workplaces, and a wise friend advised me that it wasn’t my responsibility to sort it out for everyone.
A further layer of discomfort reflected back on my actions, when I started thinking, “what was I thinking?!” You know, that I quite possibly made a wrong choice. In the end, I know in my heart that I made the best choice—the only choice--for me at the time. The discomfort comes from acknowledging and sitting with these uncomfortable thoughts, instead of dismissing them outright. 

2. Take some time. At some point, I’ll return to paid work, of that I am sure. But for the moment, I’m taking time for myself—to breathe, to recover, to reset. Of course, I’m still promoting my books and thinking about new books that I might write in the future. But if and when I do return to the paid workforce, my books will once again become a weekend side hustle. For now, though, I’m enjoying having time on weekdays to work on them, with no pressure. I hope you too are able to take some time to recover. 

3. Reject the tired recruiting belief about “finding a job while you still have a job.” Have you had someone spout these supposed words of wisdom to you? That the “best time to find a job is when you already have a job.” Have you said them yourself? I would argue that’s not always true. If you’re suffering from even the early stages of burnout and you jump ship for another organization, you’ll just transfer your burnout baggage to another employer. While it can be considerably less stressful to job hunt when you’re currently receiving a regular paycheque, it may be tough to present your best self during interviews if you’re already burnt out. Take it from me. Enough said. 

4. Be kind to yourself. It can be easy to feel like it’s your fault when your mental wellbeing takes a hit in the workplace—as it does in the case of burnout. It’s not your fault you are experiencing burnout. I tell myself that every day; maybe one of these days I’ll truly believe it. And I hope the same goes for you. Remember why you left in the first place. It was the best choice at the time, so don’t feel guilty that you cut and ran—and I’ll endeavour to keep it in mind too. Bottom line, you need to look out for yourself.

Conclusion. There you have it, my onion layers I’ve been examining as I reset and move beyond burnout. I’m sure I’ll discover more layers, more lessons. When I do, I’ll share them with you. For the record, I try to keep my eyes dry as I peel onions, with varying degrees of success.

It’s another new year, which some see as an opportunity to change their behaviour and incorporate healthy new habits into their daily lives. Can you relate? Have you set a new year’s resolution to, for instance, join a gym and get fit? When I used to teach group fitness classes, I’d often see a bump in attendance figures at the beginning of a new year.
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Instead of new healthy habits, I’m pausing a long-standing habit. This new year, I’m taking a break from exercise. You can too and still feel good about yourself and your physical wellbeing.

Let me explain. Although I’m not exercising per se, I’m still staying physically active. How is it that possible, you ask? 

Physical activity is not an all-or-nothing thing. In fact, physical activity lies on a continuum, from NEAT to elite. Let me break it down with a few definitions first.

Physical activity encompasses all activities, at any intensity, including exercise. What’s the alternative to exercise? NEAT, non-exercise activity thermogenesis, or incidental activity. NEAT is all the ways your body burns energy that is not eating, sleeping, or dedicated exercise.
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NEAT relates to moving about in daily life. Our bodies need both exercise and non-exercise activity, but much of that non-exercise activity has been lost to technology and labour-saving devices. 

So, you see, I’m taking a break from exercise, but I’m still moving lots every day. My exercise break isn’t permanent; it’s just a temporary pause while I recover from an injury. I’m still staying physically active with lots of NEAT/incidental activity, because I know that all activity leads to benefits for both physical and mental health. That’s because I don’t live to exercise; I exercise to live. And I want to live a long time. 

If you’re not up to joining a gym this month, if you don’t want to live to exercise, you don’t need to.

Let’s reframe physical activity: All exercise is movement, but not all movement is exercise. No special equipment, change of clothing, fancy exercise sequences, or location changes are required to just get off your butt and move more. If you move more, you will feel better. Guaranteed.

Want more tips to help you incorporate non-exercise activity into your life? Check out my first book, Move More: Your Life Depends On It.
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Do you have a desk-based job? Are you a professional sitter? The knowledge-based economy means that many adults sit at their desks and in meetings for hours at a time every day. Productivity, profit, and professionalism lead people to remain seated at all times. But we're not in an airplane, and there is no turbulence (hint: you can get up and move about the cabin). This physical inactivity is prematurely aging our mostly sedentary bodies when we sit at a desk all day. It is killing us. 
​

As we age, it's not just our muscles that need daily care and feeding. "Use it or lose it" applies just as much to our brains as to the rest of our real estate south of the cerebellum. Have you ever heard the term neuroplasticity? It has to do with our grey matter's ability to continually develop and adapt over our lifetime. 

Working on creating these new pathways can help reduce the risk of dementia. As with many chronic health conditions, making healthy behaviour choices every day goes a long way to improving life for our future selves. You know: prevention is key.

Several of the recommendations to create new pathways and maintain brain health figure prominently in my balance and fall prevention exercise guides. The first, of course, are the exercises themselves. Even a minute of movement and physical activity counts towards rewiring your noodle. 

But there’s more. You see, I created simplified illustrations to accompany the detailed step-by-step instructions, so you have to work harder to understand the exercise. That’s because learning details of the exercise sequence in writing is like learning a new language, which is a second key recommendation to improving brain health. You’ve spent a lifetime moving your body about without thinking too much about how to move it. When you slow down to read how to complete the exercise and then apply that learning, you’re strengthening both your muscles and your brain.

Finally, the exercise instructions include a visualization cue: “Your feet are a seesaw, moving up and down in a controlled fashion.” Visualizing how to move is yet another way your brain is staying strong and healthy. 

Give yourself a hearty pat on the back if you’re doing at least one of these brain-boosting activities. And if you’re doing all three, that’s even better!

Try this at home: Below you’ll find an example of the exercise instructions, illustration, and visualization cue from my upcoming 10th book, Chair Exercises for Fall Prevention.

I’m a polio survivor in her early seventies and have had seven decades to accumulate knowledge about how to take care of a body that may pose problems—which could be anyone’s body, not just that of a person with a disability. I have a fully paralyzed foot, a partially paralyzed leg, which is two inches shorter, smaller and much weaker than my stronger leg. I have resultant canal stenosis (narrowing of the spinal canal and disc pinching) from my limp, and arthritis in a few places. I’m also a breast cancer survivor (seventeen years cancer free!).

I’ve travelled all over the world, used to dance for fun, I still garden, and have done probably more than I should have in this life, and now in my—what are these? Golden years? Ha!—I’m learning to take things a little easier but still not just sit around and get fat. Well, a little fat, okay. I do not consider myself heroic and hate being called a hero. I am simply dealing with whatever I have to—just like you.

My second book, No Spring Chicken: Stories and Advice from a Wild Handicapper on Aging and Disability was recently published. It’s full of travel tips, life hacks, care tips, suggestions for family on how to adapt to someone whose body is changing, and is definitely not just for “crips.” It’s for anyone who’s beginning to have any kind of mobility issue, and for the people who love us.
Here's an excerpt:

Okay, so here they are—my practical, and not magic, fixes:

1. Don’t smoke tobacco.
2. Get at least two hours a week of exercise. Chair or bed yoga counts.
3. Eat a balanced diet. Mediterranean is best for most people. 
4. Brush your teeth at least three times a day (yes, three!) and floss.
5. Try to avoid stress, find ways to relax, and socialize. 
6. Get six to eight hours of sleep (on average) per night.
7. Get all the vaccinations recommended for your age and immune system.
8. Wash your hands [especially when you get home from touching flu-laden doorknobs].
9. Get a full checkup [with an MD] every year, or at least every two years.
10. Go easy on alcohol; not more than one drink a day (on average) for women, and one-and-a-half to two max for men.  

Genes matter, and you can’t do anything about those. But you have control over all of the above. I know it’s probably all stuff you know already, but here it is, all in one place!”

I do floor yoga every morning. I know that some people cannot get up and down from the floor, so chair yoga or other stretching works (or see one of Amanda’s books!). I have made it a point to have a “standup” routine, since I am more at risk of falling. I do stretches for twenty to forty minutes and have far less pain and stiffness than when I skip my yoga.

I also do a pool therapy workout for about a half hour to ninety minutes, three to five times a week, all year long. This gives me a light aerobic workout plus more stretching, and includes walking (the water helps hold you up; for me, it’s actually easier than walking on land; my weaker leg doesn’t do much in the support department), leg and arm stretches, kicks suspended on a noodle in the deep end, swimming laps, and more. If I don’t do both of these routines regularly I start to have back pain, and I can manage this with the right combo of regular stretching and swimming.

Given I can’t go for walks, I use a folding, lightweight mobility scooter both to tool around the neighborhood, go to places out of my ability range with friends, and also to travel. It’s a great little trike for airports, city sidewalks, and flat pathways through parks. So I don’t miss out on much.

I do need to keep a balance between eating and resting. I need to lie down in the afternoon for a bit several times a week, and am not supposed to fatigue myself (a big issue with older polio survivors), so because I do less standing and walking than others, I try to watch my diet. Simple carbs tend to be my downfall, especially chips or popcorn. But I step on a scale regularly and try not to let my body mass index get high. I don’t want late-life heart disease or diabetes!

When you start to get aches and pains, or find that you fatigue more than you did when you were younger, I encourage you to look out the window, keep moving, and imagining your best future. If you lose a beloved activity, find another one that is easier. Say yes to invitations, just ask those who love you to adjust to your new normal.

“I may be no spring chicken, but I ain’t ready for the soup!” as my friend Annie said in a song she wrote.

What a strange year it has been. A once-in-a-century pandemic has uprooted the entire planet, the toll to human life staggering. No one has been unaffected by the events of the past year, including me. Here’s a brief glimpse into the past year, from a recovering fitness professional.
​

Shortly before the world got turned upside down, I began a new chapter in my life. My fitness business of more than a decade was shelved in favour of a full-time job for a health charity. If you’ve read my fitness memoir, I Can See Your Underwear, or even the excerpt I shared one year ago, you’ll know that I was feeling burnt out from focusing on other people’s fitness goals, at the expense of my own.


That’s what partly precipitated my retirement from being a fitness entrepreneur—I needed to put my goals first. The office job was a way to reclaim my evenings and weekends—punch a clock and contribute when at the office, while focusing on myself during my down time. I even managed to find a job that allowed me to engage in active transportation—the office was a 40-minute walk in each direction, a 19-minute bike ride when the snow finally melted.


And then it happened—seven days in to my new role, everyone who could was instructed to work from home until further notice. [Spoiler alert: one year later, we’re still awaiting details on the return-to-the-office plans. Thankfully, none of us have been holding our breath.] Overnight, my commute became much shorter—eight steps from the kitchen to my desk, eighteen steps from there to the bathroom. The line between home and work blurred for many, myself included. I spent many more hours in a seated position, and it didn’t take long for my body to protest.


You’ve heard of the Freshman 15? Well, I acquired the COVID 19. All that extra sitting began wreaking havoc on my now-larger frame. Another lockdown during the worst of the winter months meant that, in addition to being more sedentary that I ever have, I was also less physically active. That’s when the pain started. It began with foot pain in my left foot, then in my right foot, followed by low back pain and excruciating hip pain. 


Some targeted physiotherapy treatments helped, as well as a gentle reminder from my physio to do daily stretches. I began with a few minutes of stretching when things started acting up. The stretching helped and I was thankful I could draw on my fitness background for my own needs. 


And yet, my problems with pain persisted, even worsened. Until, that is, I went back to my roots. You see, it was a love of the very popular PBS fitness show Classical Stretch that opened me up to a career in fitness. I first discovered Classical Stretch on a snowy winter’s day in late 2001. I practiced it on and off throughout the decade, always feeling better after the 22-minute full-body rebalancing it provided. I jumped into the fray, beginning instructor training in early 2010.


One thing that happens when you’re a group fitness instructor is that every workout you do is focused on your clients’ needs. But now, back to doing my own workouts in my living room—often in my pjs—I could focus once again on my own needs. And boy, did I need a full-body rebalancing!


After a decade as a teacher, I was experiencing a renaissance as a student. And practicing what I often preached: the best exercise for you is the one you enjoy. Because if you like it, you’re more likely to do it. So I’m back to tried-and-true 22-minute workouts in the comfort of my own home. And my body thanks me every day.


What’s the lesson here? When it comes to exercise, physical activity, and just plain movement, find what you love and keep going. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It happened late on a Monday night. After sleeping very soundly for an hour, I woke up and could not fall back asleep. It seemed to be my latest disordered sleep pattern. And, just like other nights when sleep eludes me, I was roaming the house. As is often the case, that night’s roaming found me in the kitchen, engaging in poor choices with a late-night ice cream snack. 

As I was standing at the sink, I gasped suddenly. It felt like my heart had been dropped into a very deep tunnel, and it was struggling to stay connected to my body. This struggle caused it to begin racing; I felt like I’d just run a 100-metre sprint, all while standing still. 

I headed to the couch, laid down, and tried to get my body under control, thinking if I fell asleep, I might feel better. I had a fairly strong inkling as to what was going on, as well as what I needed to do to resolve my racing heart, but for the moment, I wanted to stay put. 
    After 30 minutes or so, I gave up and went upstairs to try lying in bed. I ran into my teenage daughter in the hall, and filled her in on the situation. She suggested I check my heart rate on my Apple Watch. It was registering a heart rate of 110 beats per minute—normal resting heart rate is 60 to 80 beats per minute. As I suspected, my heart wasn’t working properly. It was around this time (duh!) that I remembered my watch also had an ECG (electrocardiogram) app. Thirty seconds later, and my husband, who had since woken up, was getting dressed. I was in atrial fibrillation (afib) and I needed to go to the hospital. I knew that’s what it was earlier, when I was standing in our darkened kitchen, but denial is not just a river in Egypt.
    By 12:15 am, my husband was dropping me off at our local hospital—COVID-19 restrictions meant it was a solo visit for me—and I promised to text him with updates. When it comes to heart issues, they don’t mess around, and I was in a bed in emergent care, hooked up to a heart-rate monitor in half an hour. Before I got dressed and headed home the next morning, I spent a total of seven hours with my heart racing, not being able to return to a normal rhythm. It would take some aggressive interventions to reset my heart, and I’ll tell you how that unfolded. First, though, let’s back up a bit and I’ll explain why I wasn’t surprised about the afib diagnosis.
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    What is afib? Atrial fibrillation, or afib, is an irregular, chaotic heart beat, where the upper chambers of the heart—the atria—beat out of rhythm with the lower chambers—the ventricles. Left untreated, afib can lead to strokes, heart failure, and other heart-related complications. I know all about afib, because we have a family history of it, which increases your risk of developing afib by 40%. 
    About four years ago, I had landed in the same hospital, with symptoms of a potential heart attack. Thankfully, it wasn’t, but the subsequent follow-up at the Ottawa Heart Institute discovered an atrial flutter, which is often a precursor to atrial fibrillation. The cardiologist indicated that, as long as a flutter resolved itself within a minute or two, there was no reason to seek medical attention. If it lasted longer, he advised me to go to the emergency department immediately.
    For the next four years, I only noticed my fluttering heart from time to time. Until I started noticing it every single day. It coincided, unsurprisingly, with the unfolding of the global pandemic now known as COVID-19. In addition to palpitations, shortness of breath, weakness, and fatigue, anxiety is a symptom of atrial flutter and fibrillation. I can unequivocally state that I am not the only person that was experiencing anxiety as a result of the spread of COVID and the ensuing lockdown measures. When lockdown began, doctors’ offices were closed. I thought about calling my doctor, after a month of shortness of breath, constant fluttering, and heightened anxiety, but I didn’t. Since the office was closed, the most I could hope for was an appointment over the phone. I knew they’d be unlikely to prescribe any medication in this situation—instead advising me to go to the hospital—but it didn’t feel urgent enough to use up vital health-care resources during a pandemic. I chalked up my symptoms to the current state of affairs, and figured my heart would sort itself out in due time.
    But it didn’t, and I now found myself lying in the hospital, heart racing, hooked up to multiple machines, awaiting my blood test results and a visit from the ER doctor. The treatment for afib involves cardioversion, wherein your irregular heart beat is converted to a regular rhythm, either with chemical or electric means. As you can imagine, the chemical—i.e., medication—option is the preferred first avenue, as it’s less harsh than delivering an electrical shock to your body. And that’s what the doctor suggested, though he did advise me that the medications only work for 50% of people. 
    Two hours later, we had discovered that I wasn’t one of the lucky half who respond to the meds. So, the prep began for an electric cardioversion. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve seen how COVID has changed everything, including hospital protocols. For a procedure like electric cardioversion, that meant transferring me to an enclosed room and waiting for all members of the medical team to don appropriate PPE (personal protective equipment).
    The first thing I felt when I woke up after the procedure was a normal heart beat. Although I was wiped out—from a night of no sleep in the hospital, an hours’-long racing heart, and the after-effects of being shocked—I was also relieved and happy that my ordeal would soon be over. The doctor explained to me that he didn’t feel I needed anticoagulants (to prevent a possible stroke), because I didn’t have any of the standard risk factors for afib. 
    In the days following my hospital visit, I spent time researching atrial fibrillation and talking to my father, who shares the same diagnosis. Other than family history, the only other risk factors I had were stress and poor sleep. Well, I’ll be. Stress and poor sleep during a global pandemic. Again, I can say that, without a doubt, I wasn’t the only person experiencing stress and poor sleep.
    But I had to address it, if I was going to prevent a relapse and another hospital visit. The job was mine, and only mine. I’m working on it every day, putting myself first, and awaiting a follow-up appointment with a cardiologist. I feel better because I know I have the power to keep myself healthy, not to mention the motivation. And I’ve made a pact with myself to listen to my body and act on what it’s telling me. 
    As women, we tend to put our needs behind others, often to the detriment of our health. We all need to take charge of our own health and well-being, here are some suggestions that I’m planning to implement in my own life. I hope this list will help you too.

1. Make the call. Don’t put your own health on the back burner. If something feels off, call your health-care provider and book an appointment. 
2. Take charge of your body. Address the little things before they become big things. I knew at the beginning of lockdown that something wasn’t right with my heart, but I hoped it would go away on its own.
3. Track your symptoms. Telling a doctor you feel “off” doesn’t really help them help you. Be specific, descriptive, and methodical. If you can share with them a timeline of symptoms, they’ll have a better understanding of the severity and progression of your condition. 
4. Be your own advocate. You know your body better than anyone else, so be firm if someone tells you, “it’s nothing, I’m sure.”