Saturday, I completed the Mammoth March.

It. Was. 20 miles.

There was a moment when I saw the finish line and thought I was done. Then I learned I still had four more miles to go.

I wanted to quit.

My feet hurt. My body was exhausted. Every part of me was ready to stop.

But I kept walking.

And somewhere in those last four miles, I realized how much that mirrors life.

I’ve seen that finish line before. When I got sober and had to learn how to live without substances. When I lost my mom. When PMDD and perimenopause turned my own mind and body into unfamiliar territory. When I found myself in another toxic relationship. When I found myself raising an incredible son, cheering from the sidelines at games and practices, while also trying to remember who I was outside of being “Mom.”

“Who the f*** am I?!!!!”, was a whole moment for me.

I have a master’s degree and professional licenses that gave me the knowledge to help others navigate life’s challenges. But they didn’t stop my own life from turning upside down at times.

Therapy helped save my life, and I believe deeply in its value. But some of my greatest healing happened outside the office. It happened on trails, through breathwork, grounding, mindfulness, movement, and learning to listen to myself instead of fighting myself.

That’s the vision behind Gnarly Roots.

Not to replace therapy.

But to create a space where people can reconnect with who they are beneath the labels, diagnoses, expectations, and survival strategies.

A place to slow down, learn how to breathe, reflect, and remember what matters: Who we are.

Because sometimes we need to get a little lost before we can be found.

And sometimes the most important thing we discover on the trail isn’t where we’re going.

It’s who we are.