Beth enjoying some lake time.

This post is going to be a bit vulnerable and perhaps a bit TMI so feel free to close your window now. I’m 45 and have a uterus, hence, I’ve begun the beautiful battle of perimenopause.

It isn’t pretty. Enter Talking Perimenopause. It was during one of my hazy, hot-flash moments that I saw Dimity and Ellie on my Instagram feed talking about a class. A class about my period ending? No thank you.

But something in me said maybe they are onto something. On a whim I registered, although I was skeptical.

Why? Because I have battled womanhood my whole life.

I got my first period in elementary school. I started birth control in high school to regulate things. I was diagnosed with PCOS in my early 20s; it was presented to me as a life sentence of tough luck. Sure, I could lose weight, if I just practiced portion control. I might get pregnant someday. Maybe.

Perimenopause just seemed like the latest battle in an ongoing war. And, like a good soldier, I showed up to class 1 determined to win. Ellie and Dimity shed light on the benefits of protein and fiber, and the crucial role pooping plays in eliminating unwanted needs. Their challenge? To add fiber and protein, but gradually—and overall, to make slow and thoughtful changes that’ll pay dividends long-term.

I, on the other hand, thought I knew better. I jacked up my protein and fiber overnight in a way that was unpleasant to say the least and, in hindsight, unsustainable. Within 24-hours, I told my co-worker I was dying as my stomach revolted. I had my husband drive me to the ER because I was in worse pain than childbirth. I blamed the fiber and the worst bout of constipation ever. Turns out I had 4 kidney stones that’d take approximately 4 weeks to work their way through my system. I would not wish that on my worst enemy.

I slowed my roll a little bit, but I continued to listen to what Ellie and Dimity had to say. Yes, they were presenting extremely valuable information, but it was in the context of the cyclical nature of our cycles and the intricate dance we play with our body’s needs daily. That if we slow down and listen to what our body is telling us, there is another way to get healthy. And that starts with connecting with myself.

I concentrated on baby steps–small changes that now, three months later, have helped me rediscover balance. I define success by how I feel. Can I shoot hoops with my son? Can I crank out an 8-hour workday not in a hazy brain fog and come home with enough energy to be the mom I want to be? Do I have enough gas in the tank to write my next book, run my next race, and plant my next garden?

On the flip side,when my body screams rest, I take advantage of the endless streaming services I pay for. I read a good book. I sleep.

Cross-training in my mid’40s. Slow but steady!

I still drink Teremana tequila, but I also sip Tulsi tea on stressful days and take a shot of Holy Basil in the morning to provide a natural bumper lane to my crazy hormones. My pill stack now includes magnesium. Vital Proteins collagen is a welcome addition to my perfectly crafted maple latte in the morning. I no longer fear organic whole milk at my favorite coffee shop. I cross-train. With weights. And I ride a bike.

I randomly throw mixed greens and spinach on my plate. I discovered cottage cheese. Yep. I’m that Wisconsin girl who lived 45 years gagging at the sight of cottage cheese. But I was coming up a few grams of protein short on breakfast so I gave it a try. Um hello. I think I’m in love with you.

Last week, my lunch was a Chomps beef stick, fresh peach slices, cottage cheese and some cucumber and carrot slices. Random? Perhaps. I felt amazing – much more so than downing some of my other go-to lunches that I don’t need to disclose here. I devour sourdough bread and think about how I’m diversifying my gut health, instead of feeling weak for wanting the carbs. I end my day with dark chocolate.

I’ve mixed in YouTube dance parties and strength training to my weekly runs. I’ve subscribed to some comedians in my Instagram feed for those moments when I just need a good laugh.

Conversations with my doctor are different now: they’re more focused on hormonal balance, energy levels, and my mental health instead of my waistline. I still acknowledge my frustrations with that,  but it doesn’t command my full attention anymore.

Wayne Dryer once said, “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

I’m grateful to Dimity and Ellie for reframing the way I look at myself, how I approach my diet and exercise, how I listen to my body instead of battle it. Now when I ask myself what would a healthy version of Beth do today?—a question from James Clear’s Atomic Habits—I have a much more solid, sustainable answer.