Hi friends,
The Rubins are living life on the road again.
Four days in NYC.
Currently in Baltimore.
Pennsylvania next week.
Ohio after that.
It’s the year of bar mitzvahs and weddings and extended family everything. Normally, I love an extended travel stretch. Except this time?
It’s cold.
And not “oh, I need a light sweater” cold. It’s “why does air hurt my face?” cold.
We haven’t experienced winter since moving to Barbados five years ago. I now wear a sweater at 78 degrees. My former northeastern US living self is slightly ashamed to admit that. But, my nervous system has fully recalibrated to tropical settings. I am a barefoot, salt-air, open-window human now.
So being back in winter means:
Layers. So many layers.
Cold feet. (And the audacity of closed-toe shoes.)
Dry hands and chapped lips. There isn’t enough hand lotion or lip balm in the world to return my skin to a non-reptilian state.
I do not miss any of it.
Adina, on the other hand?
Living her absolute best life.
She saw snow for the first time in her conscious memory. (We left NYC when she was four.) She has been gleefully marching through every slightly gray, questionably clean snow pile she can find. I also had to teach her the importance of not eating it.
Zero hesitation.
Just full on joy.
I genuinely hope it snows again before we leave — for her sake. For mine? I’ll be inside. Layering on as many clothes as possible.
But here’s the real point.
Our bodies adapt to the environment we put them in.
Always.
They acclimate.
They recalibrate.
They shift expectations.
Mine adapted to tropical warmth.
Now it is deeply offended by February.
And that adaptability?
It’s brilliant.
But — and this is where we pivot —
Adaptation is not always the same thing as optimal.
Your body adapts to pregnancy.
It adapts postpartum.
It adapts to perimenopause and menopause.
It adapts to stress.
It adapts to injury.
It adapts to sitting more than you planned.
It adapts to pushing through workouts because “that’s what I’ve always done.”
In the moment, those adaptations are smart.
They help you survive the season you’re in.
But sometimes…
The season changes.
And the adaptation stays.
The rib cage that flared during pregnancy.
The pelvic floor that tightened to compensate.
The glutes that clocked out after an injury.
The shoulders that learned to carry stress 24/7.
Your body did what it needed to do.
But if we never intentionally rebalance?
Those temporary survival strategies become long-term patterns.
The result?
Aches that “just started.”
Movements that feel heavier than they used to.
Random tightness that stretching never quite fixes.
Fatigue that doesn’t match your effort.
Your body isn’t broken. It adapted.
Corrective exercise is simply the process of asking:
Does this pattern still serve me?
Or is it leftover from a season I’ve already moved through?
Because adaptability is powerful.
But staying stuck in an old adaptation?
That’s like me continuing to dress for tropical weather in Ohio.
Optimism can sometimes be deeply impractical.
If something feels off in your body right now — harder than it should, tighter than it needs to be, more effortful than it used to feel — it may not be a motivation problem-It may just be an adaptation that needs unwinding.
And that is exactly the work we do.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be applying lip balm for the seventh time today.
Sending you warmth,
Coach Joanie
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