The Story That Proves I Practice What I Offer
- DRBrooksRN

- 6 days ago
- 3 min read

When you run a recovery and wellness studio, people naturally assume you must live in a constant state of balance—hydrated, stretched, protein-perfect, always sleeping eight hours, and never missing a workout. The truth? I’m a real human living a real life, with busy days, unexpected challenges, sore muscles, early alarms, late nights, and big goals.
But if there’s one story I can tell that proves I truly practice what I offer, it’s this one.
⭐ The Week Everything Could Have Fallen Apart
Training for Cocodona 250—an ultramarathon of two-hundred and fifty miles—is its own education in discipline and recovery. Week after week, I’m learning what it feels like to push myself, break down, rebuild, and come back stronger. But there was one particular week in this training block that stands out.
It was exhausting. Life threw curveballs. My schedule tightened.A family loss took my crew chief out of town.And emotionally, I felt stretched thin.
In any other season of life, this would have been the week where workouts quietly slipped off the calendar with promises to “make it up later.” But training for something as massive as a 250-mile race doesn’t leave much room for postponing. And running a wellness studio doesn’t allow me to preach what I’m not willing to live.
So instead of skipping, I adjusted.Instead of stopping, I softened.Instead of pushing harder, I recovered deeper.
⭐ Doing the Work… Even When I Didn’t Want To
On one of those mornings, I woke up tired—bone tired. My back was tight, my knees felt cranky, and mentally I could have talked myself out of running with a single sentence.
But I didn’t.I laced up.I went outside. I ran.
Not because I felt amazing.Not because motivation was high.But because movement is medicine—and I teach that every day in my studio.
That run turned into one of the best of my week. Not because it was fast or pretty, but because it reminded me what consistency actually looks like.
It’s not glamorous. It’s not Pinterest-worthy. It’s not “I woke up motivated.”
It’s:“I did it anyway.”

⭐ Recovery: The Part of Training Most People Skip
After that run, I did something I talk about constantly with clients:I recovered with intention.
I sat in the Halo room and breathed deeply while the therapeutic salt mist floated around me. I used compression therapy to help my legs reset. I practiced quiet reflection, asking myself what was working and what wasn’t. And instead of seeing recovery as a luxury or an add-on, I treated it as part of my training—because it is.
This is what I teach.This is what I offer.This is what I live.
Recovery isn’t a reward. It’s an ingredient.
⭐ Practicing What I Preach
If you ask me for one story that shows I practice what I offer, it’s this:
The week I could have easily quit, but instead I ran, recovered, listened, adjusted, and showed up with the same commitment I ask from everyone who walks through my doors.
I don’t offer recovery services because they’re trendy. I don’t recommend breath work or halotherapy because they sound nice. I don’t talk about protein tracking, mobility, or consistency because they check a box.
I talk about these things—and live these things—because I need them, too. Because they work. Because they keep me grounded, mobile, healthy, and capable of chasing the biggest goal of my life: finishing Cocodona 250 at 60 years old.

⭐ The Heart of Balance by Brooks
My studio isn’t built on perfection. It’s built on practice. Daily, imperfect, real practice.
I’m in the trenches with you—training, recovering, adjusting, learning, failing, trying again.
So when I offer someone a contrast therapy session, or guide them toward halotherapy for deeper breathing, or suggest compression after a long run, I’m not giving advice from a distance.
I’m giving wisdom I earned at sunrise on the trails, sweaty and tired. I’m giving tools that pulled me through the hard days. I’m offering exactly what I use to stay strong, sane, and moving forward.
Because the truth is simple:
I would never offer anything I don’t trust with my own body. And I practice everything I ask my clients to practice—because I’m on this journey, too.




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