There’s a reason so many people fail 75 Hard.

The time.
The effort.
The motivation.
The strict guidelines.

Miss one thing and you start over.

Failure. Reset. Day One. Again.

And maybe that works for some people. But it’s exactly why I wanted 75 Healing to be something different.

I don’t want this to be another thing in your life telling you that you aren’t doing enough.

I wanted something that might meet you wherever you are. Something that encourages you to take care of your body, your mind and your relationship with God—without trying to control every piece of your life.

Because healing isn’t that organized.

And yesterday reminded me of that.

It’s Day 19, and I realized I haven’t even been completely following my own thoughts for this “program”—if we can even call it that.

Yesterday, I got stuck in a rut.

I got dressed.
I showed up to work.
I drank my water.
I walked.
I talked to God.
I talked to Keaton.

I even managed to brush the horses and get things ready for today’s vet appointments.

But I didn’t write.

I didn’t make it to the cows.

And somehow, despite everything I did do, I went to bed feeling like I was lacking.

Maybe that’s the lesson.

Healing cannot become another checklist we use to prove we’re failing.

Because the truth underneath all of this is much simpler and much harder:

I miss my kid.

I miss his banter.

I miss his smile.

I miss the way he could somehow fix things simply by existing.

I miss hearing, “I love you, Mom,” when I shut his bedroom door at night.

Fifteen years of that routine.

And then suddenly…

silence.

There isn’t a habit tracker in the world that fixes that.

There isn’t enough water to drink, miles to walk, weights to lift, pages to read or journal entries to write that will make me stop missing him.

Some days, grief is simply heavy.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Maybe part of it was coming down from Monday at the fair. I smiled. I talked to people. I showed up. I was “on.”

And afterward, the heaviness came crashing back in.

The doubt.

The sorrow.

The anxiety.

The grief.

Maybe I’m too raw sometimes. Maybe I share things people would rather keep behind closed doors.

But this is my grief journey.

And if I’m going to write about healing, then I don’t want to only write about the days when I nailed the workout, drank the water, checked every box and felt close to God.

I want to tell the truth about the days when showing up still doesn’t feel like enough.

The days are already getting shorter.

The sun isn’t coming up quite as early.

School is starting again.

Schedules are changing.

New routines are coming, while I’m still learning how to live inside a life where one of my most familiar routines is gone.

Maybe Day 19 isn’t about getting back “on track.”

Maybe today is about remembering there isn’t actually a track.

There is just today.

And today, I’ll move my body.

I’ll drink my water.

I’ll spend some time outside.

I’ll write.

I’ll pray.

I’ll take care of the animals in front of me.

And I’ll give myself enough grace to understand that doing all of those things isn’t supposed to erase my grief.

They’re simply helping me learn how to carry it.

That’s 75 Healing.

Not perfection.

Not punishment.

Not starting over every time life knocks you sideways.

Just choosing, again and again:

No I’m still here.
I’m still trying.
I’m still healing.

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Today’s Workout — Empty the Tank

Today we’re giving the brain something else to think about.

5-minute warm-up
Walk, bike or easy jog, then loosen up your shoulders and hips.

4 rounds:

• 12 goblet squats
• 10 dumbbell Romanian deadlifts
• 10 dumbbell push presses
• 10 reverse lunges per leg
• 12 bent-over dumbbell rows
• 30 seconds mountain climbers

Rest 60 seconds between rounds.

Finisher — 5 minutes

Set a timer and alternate:

Minute 1: 10 burpees, then rest
Minute 2: 40 seconds hard bike, row, run or fast incline walk

Repeat until five minutes is up.

Then take a 10-minute outdoor walk without your phone.

Not for calories. Not for steps.

Just walk. Breathe. Pray. Look around.

Modify anything you need to. Exhausted doesn’t have to mean injured.

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Day 19 Journal Prompt

Where am I confusing healing with achievement?

What did I do yesterday—or recently—that I’ve dismissed because it didn’t feel like “enough”?

Write down three ways you showed up anyway.

Then finish this sentence:

“Today I don’t need to fix __________. I need to give myself grace to __________.”

Day 19 Prayer

Lord,

Thank You for meeting me exactly where I am today.

When grief feels heavier than my strength, remind me that I don’t have to outrun it or fix it. When I start measuring my worth by everything I accomplished—or everything I didn’t—help me choose grace instead.

Thank You for the memories I carry, even when they hurt. Thank You for fifteen years of “I love you, Mom,” for laughter, banter, routines and ordinary moments that I now understand were anything but ordinary.

Give me strength for today’s work.

Quiet my mind when it gets too loud.

Help me care for the body, heart and life You’ve given me without turning healing into another place where I demand perfection from myself.

And when today feels like it wasn’t enough, remind me:

I showed up.

I’m still trying.

And You are still here.

Amen.

Day 19. No reset required. 🤍

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