Here’s the truth: You can’t know how you’re going to feel about something until that “something” is actually happening.

You won’t know if you like green juice until you drink some fucking green juice. You can’t tell if completing a 5k race is fun until you run it. You don’t know if you’ll enjoy Paris or dumplings or yoga until you’re wiping the dumpling grease on your yoga pants while moving into downward dog in front of the damn Eiffel Tower.

Because guess what? The only way to figure out what works for you is to try shit, so you can’t be afraid to try shit.

So you taste the green juice and you don’t like it. So what? Newsflash: You don’t have to finish it.

And ditto about pretty much everything else. Just because you decide to start your own business doesn’t mean you have to stay self-employed forever if it doesn’t work out. If you no longer want to wear skinny jeans, stop wearing your skinny jeans. You can try something – anything – once or twice or every day for twelve years and if you like it you can keep doing it, and if you don’t like it you can stop.

And stopping doesn’t make you a failure, because true failure is when you don’t let yourself off the perfectionism hook long enough to experiment and test and live.

Seriously – experimentation is everything.

Because guess what? Sometimes the things we think we want most turn out to be horrible for us (LONG ISLAND ICED TEA) and sometimes the things we think we’ll absolutely hate wind up changing our lives forever (QUITTING SUGAR).

But, again, you’ll never know unless you try.

So listen, I get that you’re scared. But I also get that you want to change your life – maybe it’s your diet or your job, your level of energy, your self-esteem, your exercise habits, your sex life, your personal style – but you’re scared. And I get that. I get that you’re waiting for the “perfect” time to make your change. You’re waiting for more money and less distractions and more time and less temptations. You’re waiting for permission. For help. For inspiration.

You’re just… waiting.

Because waiting is better than failing.

Until it’s not.

So, here’s what you need to do: You need to fucking try something. You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to have a five-year plan and a thousand extra dollars. You don’t even have to have a step 2. The only thing you need is to try the first step and do something – anything – that speaks to you.

If you want to learn more about art history, read a book about art history. If you want to bake your own bread, pull up a recipe, get in the damn kitchen, and see what happens. It could be the best bread you’ve ever tasted or it could be completely disgusting – but guess what? No one gives even the tiniest of fucks either way. Who cares if the bread is bad? Try again. Try a different recipe. A different technique. Ask for help. Get on YouTube and find a video about how to properly knead your dough. Just keep trying shit until you figure out what works.

And same goes for everything else.

If you want to grow your own tulips, buy some tulip bulbs. If you want to visit a new country, start a travel fund. If you want to cut back on sugar, sign up for my 30-Day Sugar Detox.

Just try something.

Because really, what’s the worst that can happen? You wind up not liking gardening or Japan or low-sugar life? Well, congratulations, NOW YOU KNOW.

And that alone is a big fucking success.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Ready?

One of the most self-limiting stories I tell myself is that I’m not a “real” athlete. I’m a runner, sure, but in my mind I’m not an athlete – or at least not a real one – and I can feel that that perception is holding me back because it leaves me feeling like I’m constantly on the outside, looking in, at the life I want but “can’t have.”

It’s actually one of the most common negative stories, I think, this idea that you’re not a “real” whatever – a real adult, a real runner, a real writer, a real cook – and it’s stories like these that leave us feeling like impostors in our own lives.

And it all stems from comparison. From comparing ourselves to what we see other people doing and how we assume they feel, and it’s so easy to be intimidated by that, isn’t it? To tell yourself that you’re not a “real” healthy eater because that dude over there is doing it so much better. And to tell yourself that you’re not a “real” entrepreneur because you’re not doing all of the things that one girl you know is doing. Nope, you’re not real. You’re faking it.

Except you’re not. Because, fuck, what makes anyone a “real” anything?

Which is where my Change Your Story project comes in, because if there’s one story we absolutely need to change, it’s the one where not feeling “real” means that we hold ourselves back from taking chances and moving forward.

Because guess what? You don’t need someone to come in and validate your cooking skills in order to be a “real” cook. Do you cook food? Great, you’re a cook. Do you write? Great, you’re a writer. Do you run? Hey, look at that, you’re a runner.

As for me, I’m working on changing my story so that I believe that I am an athlete, but in order to for that to happen I need to do more than just cross my fingers and hope it works. In order to change my story, I need to change my actions. And in order to change my actions, I need to get to the heart of where the negative story came from in the first place.

So, in order to break down the roots of my story, I asked myself a question. I asked, “What are the top three things that I believe make someone a real athlete?” I thought about it a lot, and here’s what I came up with:

1. Athletes are part of a team and/or have sponsorship
2. Athletes have photos of themselves doing athletic things
3. Athletes compete against other athletes

Okay, great. So that’s what makes someone an athlete in my mind, and in order to start feeling like an athlete myself, I need to at least try to do some of those things. Because that’s the key: Once you’ve identified the things that someone living your new story would do, you have to actually do them.

So I did. I was nervous as hell, but I applied for a spot on the nationwide Oiselle Team – a group of about 150 female runners that I really respect – and I was lucky enough to be accepted. I’m now surrounded by an incredibly positive and supportive virtual community of lady runners, all over the country, and I have a year-long sponsorship contract with Oiselle – a running apparel brand whose gorgeous gear and powerful motto (“go fast, take chances”) speaks right to the heart of what running means to me.

After I got accepted to Oiselle Team, I hired my insanely talented friend Erin to do a running-themed photo shoot of me, wearing my new Oiselle gear, on the beach path where I log my daily miles here in LA, and every time I look at those photos I feel strong and, dare I say it, totally athletic. Step 2: complete!

Lastly, I thought a lot about what it means to me to really compete. To race. To go all in. Because, of the three things on my list of what makes an athlete an athlete, this one felt the scariest – which is how I knew it was the one wrapped in the most insecurities.

Because, even though I’ve been participating in races since August 2011, I’ve never gone balls out. I had never done a true max effort race, and I knew I needed to experience that to feel like a real athlete. Because that’s what athletes do. They commit. They give their all. They compete.

So, a few weeks ago, I ran a small local 5k and just fucking went for it. I blasted two minutes off my PR from February and came in second in my age group – but more than anything I finished that race knowing for absolute sure that I couldn’t have run any harder. And that? Is an incredible feeling. And to me, that’s being an athlete.

Now, real-talk time: Does it mean that all of the sudden I feel like a true athlete every second of the day? Of course not. Changing your story takes time. But – and this is the most important thing – I’m actively working on making that change. Which means that now, whenever that little bitchy voice in my head starts to speak up and tell me that I’m not a “real” athlete, I can raise my eyebrows, put on my Oiselle racing singlet, glance over at the photo of me running along the beach, remember the feeling of crossing that 5k finish line, and tell that little voice to fuck the fuck off.

Yeah? Yeah.

Now, this is the part where I go from sharing my story to encouraging you to share yours. Why? Because articulating your current story is the first step toward rewriting it.

So, go ahead. Click down to the comments and fill in the blank: “I’m not a real ____.” Then, ask yourself what you need to do to change that story. And then? Well, and then you need to go out and do it.

And in the meantime? I have a little treat for you!

Later this week, I’ll randomly pick one person from the comments to win my absolute favorite outfit from Oiselle – the Bum Wrap (so cute & comfy omfg) and the Winona Tank (the softest ever!) because sharing your story should totally come with prizes, right? RIGHT. Oh, and a discount code, too! Just enter BIRDLESSBS at checkout between now and Sunday to save 20% off your Oiselle purchase. And in case you need help choosing, I particularly love the Roga Short. And the Lesko bra. AND, UGH, EVERYTHING ELSE FOREVER.

Wow, that wasn’t helpful at all, was it?

::cue me frantically using my own discount code because, uh, that’s what athletes do, right?! BUY MORE RUNNING GEAR??::

[Update: Our winner is... Kelly L!]

Want to know the hardest part of changing your diet? Let me break it down for you.

The hardest part of changing the way you eat is recognizing that what you eat is only about 10% of the battle. The other 90% comes down to the hard truth of why you eat what you eat, and if you aren’t willing to strip down your emotionally-charged food habits and work to rebuild them from the ground up, you’re going to be constantly disappointed.

Because here’s the thing: We never learned how to feed ourselves in the first place, you know? Someone started feeding us the day we were born, and from that point on we’ve been like dietary sponges, absorbing the (often subconscious) messaging from parents and friends and advertising about what to put (and not put) in our mouths.

And guess what? A lot of that messaging totally fucking sucks. Take me, for example:

My mother was always more concerned with being thin than being healthy, and I watched her bounce from Weight Watchers to Nutrisystem to so many other programs (and back) over and over again throughout my childhood. The message? It doesn’t matter what you eat as long as you’re thin.

My father, on the other hand, never gave a damn about his weight and he used food as a source of immense pleasure and comfort. All of our family celebrations were rooted in food, and a job well done was celebrated using food as a treat. The message? If you do something “good,” you’re rewarded with food.

I mean, I was even potty-trained using M&Ms, which pretty much sums up everything you need to know about how far back my “let’s use food as something besides fuel for the body” story goes.

Now, okay, this is the part where I step back and tell you that I’m a raging sugar addict. I’m very physically sensitive to sugar, and the emotional ties I have to it go even deeper. And this is also the part where I get really honest with you and admit that quitting sugar in December 2011 and working to build a virtually sugar-free life over the past 17 months is the single hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Why? Because in order to quit sugar, I had to stare down (and come to terms with) all of my emotionally intense food-related issues, and that shit is tough. I had to work through stuff like why my default behavior when I’m overwhelmed is to want candy, and why having one cookie makes me want to have 12 cookies as my brain tells me that I already “messed up” so I might as well eat whatever I want and “start over” tomorrow.

So yeah, quitting sugar was really hard. But you know, more than anything, the hardest part of quitting sugar was doing it alone.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around how to build a low-sugar or sugar-free life when sugar is everywhere all the time. I mean, how do you keep eating the way you know you want to eat when it seems like no one else in your life can relate? And how do you make changes that are realistic and sustainable in your day-to-day routine so you don’t have to choose between eating well and having a fucking life?

Those were just a few of the questions I came up against, and after 17 months of working through them, I’ve decided to create a 30-Day Sugar Detox program to give anyone who struggles with similar issues the hard-hitting, real-talk, judgment-free help that I would have traded a kidney for back when I was going through this myself.

[Spoiler alert: You get to keep your kidney!]

So listen, if you want more energy, more emotional stability, and complete control of your food choices – regardless of whether or not you’ve been able to make sustainable food changes in the past – I can help you.

The 30-Day Sugar Detox kicks off on June 1, so if you’re interested in joining and being able to express your scariest, most hair-pulling, insomnia-inducing fears and frustrations about sugar – all while feeling heard, understood, and cared about, then you don’t want to miss this.

And (spoiler alert #2!) this isn’t a diet. It’s not a militant and restrictive eating plan. This is you and me and an amazing group of like-minded people from all over the world spending 30 days in a fun nutritional playground, getting messy and real about what works and doesn’t work when it comes to kicking the sugar habit.

This program will tackle everything from what to do when a sugar craving hits to how to talk to your friends and family about your dietary changes to what the fuck to actually eat if you aren’t eating sugar – including recipes, my “how to make the best meal plan ever” template, and so much more.

Interested?

Everything you need to know is right here.

Most of the shit you think you absolutely “have to do” isn’t actually shit you have to do at all.

You don’t have to check your email on your phone when you first wake up. You don’t have to respond to voice messages right away. You don’t have to use Twitter. You don’t have to drink at happy hour or own an iPad or wear heels or watch the news. You don’t have to be an entrepreneur and you don’t have to love yoga and you don’t have to do a 3-day juice cleanse. You just… don’t.

And you know what else? All of the things you really do want but aren’t doing because you think you need more time or more money or more whatever are actually things you could start doing right now. Today. No matter what.

If you want to write a book, write a fucking book. Write the title, or the first page, or the last chapter. You don’t have to write a perfect first draft and you don’t have to wait until you’ve done more “research” and you don’t have to worry about who’s going to publish it or what other people are going to think because none of that matters unless you just start writing.

If you want to change your life, change your life. Change your story and then change your habits and then just do one small thing after another to move you in the direction you want to go. It doesn’t matter how slow you’re moving as long as you’re moving. As long as you’re making relentless forward progress. And guess what? Part of forward progress means pausing sometimes and getting off track sometimes and wandering around in circles and taking sixteen steps back because that’s what real change in real life looks like.

The key is not to give up. To never give up.

You feel like something is holding you back? Guess what, so do I. So does everyone. We all have eleventy thousand excuses for why we’re not doing everything we want to be doing. But, at the heart of it, do you know what’s really holding you back? The fear of starting. So just start. Do something. Do anything. The only way to get what you want is to start and then to keep going and to try things and see what works and when something works, keep doing it, and when something doesn’t work, just stop.

Just stop.

If you’re unhappy with your relationships, fix them. If you want to quit your job, quit your job. If you hate a TV show, stop watching it. If you want to be blonde and ride horses and drink fancy coffee, then dye your hair and sign up for a fucking riding lesson and start buying the fancy coffee.

Think you need permission? You don’t.

You don’t need to be told that it’s okay to wear red lipstick and you don’t need a certain body to wear a bikini and you don’t need to be fast to complete a half marathon.

Who cares if you feel like you’re not doing it “right”? There’s no one right way to do anything because there are lots of ways to do everything and it’s time to step back and recognize what you do because you think you “should” and what you do because you’ve been doing it and then realize that just because you’ve been doing something one way for a very long time doesn’t mean you need to keep doing it that way for even another minute.

Because listen, I spent eight years of my life going from one shot of tequila to another and one bad decision to another and I heard over and over that people can’t change because we are who we are – and yet, despite all odds, yesterday was my two year sober-versary.

So when I’m telling you that you can do absolutely whatever you want no matter where you’re starting from or how many things are standing in your way, I fucking mean it.

I wish I had an audio recording of the phone conversation in which I told my mother that I was making raw brownies. She’s all, “What do you mean raw brownies? Are you eating uncooked brownie batter? Are there eggs in it?! Are you going to die of salmonella? DID I TEACH YOU NOTHING AS A CHILD??” And I was like, “No, ma, not raw like that. Raw like, made-from-things-that-don’t-need-to-be-baked-in-the-first-place.” And she’s all, “What kind of gross-ass brownie doesn’t need to be baked??” And I’m like, “We’re not making much progress here, are we?”

Because, see, that’s the thing with raw dessert recipes. Unless you’re used to them, you think they’re totally fucking weird. But wait, back to these brownies for a second. No, they aren’t exactly like regular brownies. Because duh. They’re not cake-y, because, uh, they’re raw, but they pack an almost inappropriate nutritional punch. Fiber! Magnesium! Omega-3s! Calcium! The list goes on and on. And did I mention that they’re SO GOOD? Because let’s not get crazy here, that’s what really matters, right?

Raw Brownies

photo credit: andrea isasi

original recipe via My New Roots

Ingredients
2 cups chopped walnuts
2 1/2 cups Medjool dates, pitted (seriously, don’t make my mistake and forget to take the pits out)
1 cup raw cacao powder
1/2 cup raw unsalted almonds, roughly chopped
3/4 tsp. sea salt

Get out your trusty food processor and add the walnuts, blending until they’re finely ground. Then, add the cacao and salt and pulse a few times to combine. Add the dates one at a time, through the feed tube of the food processor (while it’s running), and wait a few seconds between them, continuing to add them one at a time until you’ve used all the dates. At this point, the mixture should be crumbly, but if you pinch it in your fingers you’ll see that it holds together.

Next, transfer the mixture into a big bowl and add the chopped almonds, mixing with your hands so they’re evenly distributed. Line a cake pan (I use an 11×7 glass one) with parchment paper, and press the mixture into the pan, flattening it with your palms until it’s evenly spread out. Then, cover the pan and place it in the fridge until you’re ready to cut/serve the brownies.

PS - They’re easiest to cut when they’re cold, but they taste best once they’ve come closer to room temperature. Plan accordingly.

PPS - Admit it, you were a little scared of raw brownies but now that you’ve tasted them you want to lick my face with gratitude, huh?

PPPS - You’re fucking welcome.

So, now that you’re curled up with a plate of rich , delicious raw brownies, let’s settle in for the “reading” portion of this month’s eating & reading series, shall we? Below, you’ll find the two links that moved me the most in April, and I hope you like them, too!

Nicole’s 2 Favorite (Boston Marathon) Articles

It’s Ours, And You Can’t Take It Away, by @caro
“What’s vital — or, shall I say, sacred — to all of us is the spirit of human endurance, the celebration of a feat as dedicated and unnatural as spending 26.2 miles on our feet running against a clock for no good reason other than that we have reason to believe in ourselves and in the thousands of people running around us.”

The People Who Watch Marathons, by @morninggloria
“If anything, the tragedy in Boston will further solidify the bond between runner and spectator. And when the Chicago marathon happens this October, I’ll show up to run harder, and they’ll show up to cheer louder. If anyone thought this attack would discourage the runners or the watchers, they’ve clearly never been to a marathon.”

Let’s talk about that thing you want.

You know, the one you’re too scared to pursue and don’t think is possible and have totally been procrastinating on and can’t wrap your head around and aren’t sure you can ever achieve.

Yeah, that thing.

It’s time for you to fucking do it. To go after it. To feel the way you want to feel and live the way you want to live.

And look, this isn’t a cheerleader’s rallying cry of “You can do it!” Because guess what? That shit isn’t helpful. You know what’s helpful? Actual help. A step-by-step process that gets you out of your own way, puts you in control of your goals, and gives you a concise and strategic way to meet them.

In short, you need a formula. So I made you a formula.

The 15-Step Bullshit-Free Goal-Setting Formula, to be exact, and you can read all about it – including the reason this formula is way better than that one-night stand you had in college – by clicking here.

Spoiler alert: I’m giving the entire introduction to the program away for free. And this isn’t your grandmother’s introduction. It’s a 21-page primer on how to approach your biggest, scariest, juiciest goals, and it covers the ways in which perfectionism holds us back, how to stop being an asshole to yourself, the benefits of gradual forward progress instead of instant gratification, the difference between intellectual goals and emotional goals, the truth about ongoing vs project-based goals, how to harness the power of obsession, how to beat decision-making fatigue, and more. And did I mention that it’s totally free??

So, if you want it, go ahead and get your (hot) ass over here so I can give it to you.

(Uh, that’s what she said?)

Oh! And if you’re down to be a bullshit-free ambassador (yeahhh!) and want to help spread the word, just click the link below to tweet about it.

Time to rock out with your goals out! Grab the 15-Step Bullshit-Free Goal-Setting Formula, by @NicoleLessBS –> http://tinyurl.com/bzln9ja [click to tweet]

Thanks so much!

I can’t wait to hear what you think of the workbook. And guess what? Pretty soon after you’ve gone through the 15-Step Formula, your goals won’t just be “goals” anymore, they’ll be “those awesome things you totally did because you’re amazing.”

xo
n

Spoiler alert: I’m really, really good at getting other people to do things with me.

Seriously, it’s my superpower. Just ask any of my friends and you’ll get a long list of the crazy things I’ve convinced them to do. Skydiving, booking spontaneous trips, registering for half marathons in Alaska, and, this past weekend, participating in a 200-mile relay race.

200 MILES, YOU GUYS.

And that’s how I know it’s a superpower – because I was able to convince 10 other people, many of whom don’t even live in Los Angeles, to fly here and spend 37 hours in a van with me, taking turns running all day, all night, and all day again to cover 200 miles FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REAL REASON.

And here’s the thing about ridiculous events like the Ragnar Relay: They show you who the fuck you really are.

Don’t believe me? Try alternating between running uphill in the scorching heat and frantically driving around an unfamiliar city to find the next exchange point so that as soon as one runner on your team finishes, the next runner can get started. Then, do that over and over again for 37 hours while trying to feed yourself properly from the contents of a cooler and stay hydrated without being too hydrated and stretch enough so that when midnight comes around and it’s time to run (again) on unpaved roads in the pitch black darkness, you don’t wind up lost and freezing and stranded on the side of the road.

Then, imagine that one of your two vans breaks down in the middle of the night and the second half of your team has to come and rescue you in the one remaining van while the current runner jogs obliviously through an unmarked golf course, getting hosed down by sprinklers, and the runner on deck has to hitchhike her way to her next starting point so that the whole operation can stay in forward motion even though you and your van and all of your team’s possessions are stuck in an unidentified dirt lot near a questionable gas station in Temecula.

Meanwhile, you have blisters, and chapped lips, and chafing, and you’re sweaty (so sweaty), and you’re desperately trying to clean your entire body off with a tiny little baby wipe while getting naked in the back of a van and changing from your second running outfit to your third running outfit without accidentally flashing your bare ass to a bunch of strangers. All the while, one of your teammates is throwing up from the combination of heat and not-the-right-food and you’re second guessing everything you’ve been planning to eat for the rest of the relay and everything you’ve eaten since the beginning of time.

Oh, and sleep? Ha, right. You can’t even remember what sleep feels like because you maybe get three or four hours total over the course of two full days of running and driving, and most of the sleep you do get comes in 10-minute increments of sprawling out next to your van in the parking lot of a high school where, if you’re super lucky, you’re able to find a tiny patch of shade and a semi-non-humiliating place to lay face down in public while praying for someone to just start massaging your calves already.

And yet? You love every minute of it. You make it through each of your runs and you pick up your teammate who ran 3-miles off course and you celebrate with another teammate whose second run of the race was her longest run ever and you all lay on each other’s laps and sunscreen each other’s shoulders and you pull together and support each other and take care of each other’s needs for bananas and water and gentle head pats and extreme high fives and, above all else, you never stop cheering for each other.

Because that’s the other thing about ridiculous events like the Ragnar Relay: They show you who the fuck your people are, too.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot over the past 24-hours, and now that I’m back home and am (mostly) recovered from the sleep deprivation and the voice-loss that comes from hours of cheering for friends and strangers on the side of random roads in the middle of the fucking night while covered in glitter, I’ve realized that there’s actually a hell of a lot of value in doing ridiculous things.

Because, really, there’s no “purpose” to something like Ragnar. But isn’t that all the more reason to do it?

We spend so much of our lives doing the “right” things – the things we should do – with our eyes focused on the big goals and the even bigger picture, that it’s easy to forget that the best memories and the most hilariously wonderful stories come from just doing ridiculous shit, with the people you love, for absolutely no reason at all.

There’s a time and a place for productivity, responsibility, and sensibility. We can and should work to be our best possible selves. But what’s structure without some rule breaking? What’s discipline without some balls-out anarchy? What’s a life of safe decisions without a what-the-fuck-am-I-doing event from time to time? And what’s all of that if you don’t spend it with the people who truly, deeply get you?

So really, what I’m saying here is this: Find your people, hold the fuck onto them, and do ridiculous shit.

**

Photo credits: @andreaki, @doniree, and whoever else I stole these pictures from because while getting people to do things with me is my superpower, remembering to document said things is my kryptonite. Hi fives for teamwork!

I couldn’t sleep last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw footage from the explosions in Boston. The terror on people’s faces, the smoke, the blood, the tears. And it might sound strange, but as a runner it feels like someone attacked my family. My community. My people.

Thankfully, it seems like all of my friends (and friends of friends) are safe, but there’s still one buddy, Jeff, who’s unaccounted for, and I won’t know anything about him for at least a week. Because, surprisingly, in the midst of this overly connected world, we don’t have each other’s phone numbers or email addresses. I have no idea if he’s on Twitter. We don’t even know each other’s last names. But we run the same training route here in LA, and we spend day after day either waving at each other as we head in opposite directions or running side by side when our daily runs line up – and so, as runners, we actually know a hell of a lot about each other. Stuff that most of the other people in our lives will never know or understand.

I know that he prefers to carry his water bottle in his left hand during long runs. He knows that I wear mine around my waist. I know that he has a short, efficient stride and great form. He knows that shortening my stride has been a big focus for me over the past few months. I know that last year was the first time he qualified for Boston and I know, in detail, how that race went for him in the scorching heat. He knows I can’t even wrap my head around ever improving enough to qualify for Boston, but he believes that I can get there if I want it badly enough.

I know that he fought through the rain and windstorm in last December’s California International Marathon in Sacramento, and that just the other day we were joking about how bad his race-day weather karma is and how he was due for an amazing time in Boston. He knows that I was obsessively checking the weather and wishing him the perfect, cool, dry conditions that all runners dream of for race day.

I know that, of his three children, only the middle one has really taken to running. He knows that I’m nowhere near ready to have children, but that when I do my baby registry will be all about the jogging stroller. He knows a lot about jogging strollers. I know he prefers to run without headphones, and that I’ll never see him on Wednesdays because on Wednesdays he does speedwork at the local track. He knows that I prefer audiobooks to music, and that I do my speedwork on the flat stretch of our path that flanks the nearby middle school. We know the look on each other’s faces that says, “It’s good to see you, but this run is eating me alive so I really can’t chat right now.” We know how to run together in silence.

I know that he’s never run a race shorter than 26.2, and he knows that I’ve done everything from the 5k to the marathon. I know that he’s been running for nine years, and he knows that May 1 will be my two-year anniversary of both running and sobriety. I know that this year’s Boston was to be his 25th marathon, and he knows that I’m heading to Sydney for my second in September. I know that his goal race pace yesterday was 6:50, and that he was trying to break 3-hours for the first time in his life. He knows how much it meant to me to break 2-hours in the half marathon last month, and when I got back from DC he was anxiously awaiting a full race recap – split times, blister descriptions, and all.

And so, while we might not know each other’s email addresses, we do know the depths of each other’s endurance, and there’s nothing more human than that. Our endurance is what makes us who we are, and it’s the only answer I can think of to the question that’s on everyone’s minds after yesterday: What do we do?

You keep going, that’s what. You keep moving forward, because relentless forward progress and the strengthening of our commitment to one another is the best response to senseless violence.

What do you do? You live bigger and love harder. You put a stop to the self-limiting beliefs and the negative self-talk that’s been holding you back, and you go out there and do what you were put here to do. You write the book, start the business, take the trip, learn to paint. You take chances. You use your gifts and your talents to brighten the world, and you tell yourself over and over that no matter how dark it can get, there is always more brightness than darkness. You commit to being part of the brightness.

What do you do? For every injustice you see, every act of hate and violence, you perform three acts of kindness. You get involved. You ask, “How can I help someone?” Not just in times of crisis, but on a daily basis. You acknowledge that we are all better when we live in service to one another. And then you do it, you help. You do whatever you can do, because even if it seems small and insignificant, even if you feel like you’re just one tiny drop in an endless ocean, you remind yourself that that ocean wouldn’t be an ocean without each and every drop.

What do you do? You keep going. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Keep fighting like hell, because there’s just so much that’s worth fighting for.

[Update: Thanks so much for all of the kind words and warm thoughts for Jeff! He's absolutely fine, thank goodness, and we've been able to run together a lot since then, which I'm super grateful for.]

If you want to make a change, you have to push yourself outside of your comfort zone. Wanting change means wanting something different than what you have right now, and in order to have something different you need to do something different.

Because (tough love alert!) you can’t keep thinking and behaving exactly the same way and expect that all of the sudden, everything is going to be fresh and shiny and new. That’s not how shit works. You know how shit works? You have to be the one to change your own damn life. And guess what? That’s a beautiful thing, because it means you don’t have to wait for anyone’s permission or for some mysterious “right time” to go after what you want. If you want to change your life, you can start right now – simply by changing your story.

About a month ago, I mentioned a personal project I’m working on this year – the Change Your Story Project – in which I’m challenging myself to re-write the negative stories I tell myself (about myself) that are holding me back. One of those stories is that I’m horribly un-photogenic and that I hate having my picture taken, and I want my new story to be that I’m super comfortable in front of the camera and can totally rock a photo shoot.

Which is why, a few weeks ago, I stripped down and spent an hour and a half posing in the almost-nude, because hey, that’s exactly what someone living my new story would do, right?

What I Learned From Stripping Down

1. You don’t have to do things the same way everyone else does them
When I first started researching boudoir photography on Pinterest, I wanted to die. It seemed like every other photo was of a pouty, corset-clad, thigh-high wearing vixen and I was immediately turned off. Corset? I don’t want to wear a fucking corset. Stockings and heels? Uh, how about barefoot with boyshort underwear instead. But that’s the thing: What makes someone else feel sexy might be completely different from what makes you feel sexy – and that’s okay.

In the end, I showed up to my photo shoot sans corset, stockings, heels, and push-up bra, and I still had an unbelievably good time.

2. Even the worst-case scenario still leaves you with a good story
Changing your story can be scary – I get that. But let’s cut through the fear and get real for a second: What’s the worst thing that can happen if you go after what you want? Maybe it won’t work out. Maybe you’ll fail. Maybe you’ll have to fight through some unbelievable challenges that you never saw coming. Maybe it’ll all just be one big fucking temper tantrum after another. But who cares? The people who love you are still going to love you, and the strength you’ll gain from giving it a shot (not to mention the lessons you’ll learn about yourself along the way) are worth every second. Take this photo shoot, for example. Going into it, I thought, “What if the pictures are terrible? What if I’m horribly uncomfortable the whole time? What if I hate it and never want to do it again?” Well, what if? None of those things would be the end of the world, and at least I’d have a great story to tell people about the time I got naked in front of two strangers and made a complete idiot out of myself. People love stories about nudity gone awry, right??

3. You have absolutely no idea how things are going to play out, so stop over-thinking it
When I first booked my photo shoot, I was terrified. I assumed I was in for the most horrifically uncomfortable hour and a half of my entire life, and that there was no way I’d like even one of the photos in the end. But hey, guess what? As usual, my predictions were way off,  because despite how “positive” I was that I’d be terrified throughout the whole shoot, I wound up not being nervous at all. I went into the bathroom to change into my first outfit and it was like, out of nowhere, all my nerves disappeared. I figured, “Well, this is happening, so I might as well enjoy it,” and I’m still shocked at how much fun I had and how much I love the photos.

4. A self-limiting belief is only limiting until you let it go
In the old story I used to tell myself, I was very uncomfortable being the center of attention. I couldn’t do anything that required photography because I just took “such terrible pictures.” It was the ultimate self-limiting belief, and it spilled over into other things, too – like public speaking (“you can’t do that!”) or creating video and podcast content (“too scary!”) – and I constantly felt restricted by what I believed to be true about myself. Am I still fearful of these types of things? Absolutely. One lingerie-filled afternoon can’t re-write 27 years worth of self-limiting beliefs, but I’ve taken a huge first step and I already feel like I can’t tell myself that a photo shoot is out of the question and actually believe it. The big step is out of the way, and from here it’s just little step after little step until my new story becomes my right-now story.

So, with this photo shoot completed and a collection of photos to show my grandchildren when I’m 80 years old and want to totally freak them out, I have to say that I’m just so thrilled that I pushed myself to do something uncomfortable like this.

And, more than anything, I’m so grateful to the ladies of Three Boudoir: Amber (my photographer) and Joanna (my shoot director and former Playboy model), who made a neurotically awkward girl comfortable while running around with her boobs flying everywhere between shots. They’re also giving you guys a 15% discount for a boudoir shoot of your own if you’re ever in the Baltimore/Metro-DC area, and if the flying boob thing isn’t a gold-star testament to how amazing they made me feel, I don’t know what is.

Said another way: Book a session with these ladies. You won’t regret it.

And also? If I can strip down to my underwear and post the results on the fucking internet, ha, then you can definitely take the first step toward doing whatever you want to do to change your own story. Right? Right.

You know that feeling you get when you read something so powerful, something that resonates with you in such a deep way, that a chill creeps down your spine and the hairs on your arms stand up? That feeling that has you re-reading the same sentence over and over again, nodding furiously, and whispering, “Yes. Yes!” while looking around to see if anyone else has noticed that while they’re doing whatever the hell they’re doing, you’re in the middle of a major fucking epiphany?

Yeah, that feeling.

The one where it feels like you’re being knocked over by words that you immediately know aren’t just words -  they’re the missing puzzle piece that clicks a key part of your life into place. Those words can be anything from a short phrase or quote to an article or interview or full-length book, but as you read it you just know that nothing will ever be the same again.

Because here’s the thing: When you read something like that, something that smacks you over the head with a change-of-perspective two-by-four, and when you learn something new and realize something profound, you can never un-know it or un-realize it. And so, just like that, things have shifted and all of the sudden you’re on a different path.

And, if you ask me, there’s absolutely nothing better than that. I mean, at the heart of everything, don’t we all just want to be moved and touched and inspired to be our best possible selves? To feel like, “Fuck, yes, anything is possible.”

It’s why we read. Why we watch movies and TV shows and play certain songs on infinite repeat. That feeling of, “Yes – someone gets me” and that deep sense of possibility that we can be and do and have anything we want.

Those are the game-changing moments, caused by game-changing sources of inspiration, and they can truly change your life.

And we’re all inspired by different things, of course, but I wanted to quickly share the six books that have been the biggest game-changers for me. Six books that I can say, without hesitation, absolutely changed my life.

The How of Happiness, by Sonja Lyubomirsky, which took everything I thought I knew about happiness and spun it on its head, complete with simple, actionable tips for how to be happier right this second.

The Joy of Less, by Francine Jay, which revolutionized the way I feel about “stuff” and why we own what we own.

The Power of Habit, by Charles Duhigg, which demystified the process of habit change and helped give me the tools I needed to change some of my worst behaviors.

Lick The Sugar Habit, by Nancy Appleton, which opened my eyes to the deadly reality of sugar and helped me quit.

Thrive, by Brendan Brazier, which blazed a clear and approachable path toward plant-based eating and showed me how to fuel my body to be the best athlete I can be.

And, most importantly, Born To Run, by Christopher McDougall, which made the laziest girl in the world get the fuck off the couch, into some beat-up old sneakers, and across the finish line of a half marathon that turned into six half marathons that turned into an entirely new life.

Honestly, I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve recommended those books to other people, and how excited I get when I hear that someone I know is reading one of them. Geeking out over books is one of my favorite things, which is exactly why I’m celebrating today’s launch of the Life Less Bullshit Facebook page with a fun giveaway of all six books above. (Yeaaah! Free books! Geeking out forever!)

Speaking of the Facebook page, I created it as an online meeting place for anyone who wants to live a “life less bullshit,” and I’m going to be sharing unique content over there that you won’t find anywhere else. Quick & dirty tips, favorite quotes, links to articles and resources I love, and so much more. It’ll also be a great way to connect with other people who share our mutual love of bullshit-free self-care, and I can almost guarantee that you’ll be able to make a new friend in your home city in the next few months.

So, if you want to join the Life Less Bullshit community, just click here, and then click the little “like” button, and you’re in! Then, on April 29, I’ll randomly pick one member of our new Facebook community as the winner of all six books, and that person will get a serious adrenaline shot of inspiration straight to their mailbox.

Free books and a way to connect with other kickass, honest, fun, non-judgmental, and bullshit-free people around the world? I know, right??

[Update: Our winner is... Stacy Robinson!]