Some readers might accuse me of leveraging viral internet memes to generate content. And honestly, they'd have a fair point. However, I believe this also presents an opportunity to dive into an interesting and important discussion: how does one actually "win" a fight? The answer largely depends on how we define both "fight" and "win."

 When performing any strength or resistance training exercise, movements can be broken down into two key phases: the concentric phase and the eccentric phase. The concentric phase refers to the part of the movement where the muscle shortens as it contracts, typically involving the "lifting" or "pushing" action. For example, during a bicep curl, the concentric phase is when you raise the dumbbell and your bicep muscle contracts. In contrast, the eccentric phase occurs when the muscle lengthens under tension, often during the "lowering" or "returning" motion. Using the same bicep curl example, the eccentric phase happens as you slowly lower the dumbbell back to the starting position.

Newton's 3rd law of physics states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. More specifically, when any object exerts a force upon another object, the second object exerts an equal force back. What does this have to do with exercise or martial arts? Well honestly... everything.

 "The mind adapts and converts to its own purposes the obstacle to our acting. The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way." 

Dopamine, often called the "success neurotransmitter," is released as we make progress toward our goals and surges when we achieve them. However, this rush is short-lived. Thankfully, success also triggers a boost in serotonin—a mood-stabilizing, "feel-good" neurotransmitter—especially when others recognize and celebrate our achievements. But what about the moments when we face failure? How do we keep moving forward after a setback?

   "Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

When it comes to achieving long-term behavioral change, the interplay between motivation and discipline is crucial. Motivation, the driving force behind our actions, can be categorized into two types: intrinsic and extrinsic. Intrinsic motivation stems from internal desires, such as personal growth, passion, or the satisfaction of accomplishing a goal. On the other hand, extrinsic motivation is driven by external rewards or pressures, such as money, recognition, or avoiding negative consequences.

"New year, new you" - super cliché but this time begs the question: are you all you could be? Are you all you want to be? I get it, there are a lot of demands. Perhaps you can't go "all in." But can you go a little bit? Can you aim in a general direction and start moving, then see what happens?  Start small, but start somewhere. Often, it's the little, consistent actions that create the biggest changes in your life. De-cluttering one drawer, committing to 10 minutes of movement each day, or setting aside a few moments to reflect on your goals can ripple into something bigger. It's not about perfection; it's about progress. Even the smallest steps move you closer to becoming the version of yourself you've been dreaming about.

As a registered nurse, one of the most striking observations I've made in recent years is how often people struggle to accurately assess risk. Depending on the news source we consume, our greatest fears since 2020 have revolved around death and disability caused by either viruses or violent assaults. While these threats are undeniably real, I urge you to consider another, far more statistically significant danger that often goes overlooked.

It's no secret that 2020 and 2021 were challenging years for many of us, myself included. While I don’t claim this makes my experience unique, these years profoundly shaped my journey. At the time, I was in graduate school while also working as the nursing coordinator for a cardiac unit that was quickly converted into a COVID care unit. I became the first nurse at my facility to contract COVID, and though my symptoms were mild, the stigma that followed—from friends, colleagues, and strangers—was unexpected and unsettling. Around the same time, I endured a personal betrayal from someone I had considered a spiritual mentor. This not only caused a crisis of faith but also dismantled much of the support system I had relied on. Needless to say, my mental health took a significant hit during this period.