I Choose to Live

“Resilience is knowing that you are the only one who has the power and the responsibility to pick yourself up.” – Mary Holloway

I have learned to approach each moment as a celebration. And to do that, I’ve had to develop physical and mental resilience.

My attention was drawn to this fact from an early age. In Grade 4 (Standard 2), I attended an all-girls boarding school in Grahamstown in the Eastern Cape. The year was 1994, the watershed year of democracy, a time when life was changing for the majority of South Africans.

My personal transition was made easier by the fact that two of my friends who had been at my previous school were moving with me. One was a year older and the other a year younger. Feeling a little insecure, and finding comfort in familiarity, we agreed to look after each other. Because we were essentially still kids, little did we realise that the boarding house would sort us into grades and we wouldn’t share the same dormitory.

Mental resilience was the order of the day from the get-go. Being separated from my friends, I was immediately forced out of my comfort zone. As an introvert, the idea of having to socialise with girls I didn’t know was intimidating, but I had to suck it up and learn to break out of my shell. It was one of the best things that could have happened to me.

Boarding school was full of life lessons. At age 10 we were essentially responsible for ourselves. We had to make sure that our teeth were brushed, our beds were made, our clothes were neat and our homework done. It was drilled into us with no mollycoddling. No one was going to take responsibility for you – you had to fend for yourself.

Physical activity was compulsory at school. I was lucky that my mom allowed me to try anything and everything on offer, so I immediately immersed myself in sport. From athletics to tennis, squash, drum majorettes and swimming, I literally took part in everything, discovering what I liked and didn’t like and essentially building my physical resilience. Nothing could have been better for my health or my ability to develop my self-esteem. Basing our view of our abilities on what we are physically able to do leaves little opportunity to develop a warped sense of our own capacity. This I learned at a really young age. I also quickly learned that, with a little discipline, physical capability can be improved. So, if we feel we are lacking in a particular area, all we have to do is put in a little disciplined practice and we’ll see a marked improvement – no reason to feel bad about ourselves.

In my formative years, I also learned rather rapidly to be adaptable. Just as I was starting to settle into my new life at boarding school in Grahamstown, we moved overseas. Mom was granted a scholarship to study for a Master’s degree at the University of Southern Colorado in the US. So we left towards the end of Grade 5 (Standard 3) after a mere two-year stint at boarding school. Living in Pueblo, Colorado, was a real culture shock. Luckily for me, boarding school had already taught me that I could either crumble, or thrive under pressure. I chose the latter and quickly developed a new kind of mental resilience as I adapted to my new environment and to people who behaved and thought so differently. Being the only girl from Africa in the entire school was a highlight for many kids. In fact, I was one of only three black kids in the entire school. The kids’ curiosity meant that I was either subjected to ridicule because of the way I spoke and where I come from or being asked ridiculously silly questions, like whether we had elephants in our backyards in Africa. It wasn’t easy, but the experience taught me to grow a thick skin. Getting emotional over the slightest joke or mockery wouldn’t do me any good, so I grew up quickly. Grade 8 (Standard 6) came around and just like that, we were back in South Africa. Mom turned down another scholarship to undertake doctoral studies in Texas; she missed home, so we came back. Back at home, I returned to the same boarding school, where I would stay until matric five years later.

Returning to boarding school as an adolescent, I went through times when I was bullied because even though I had lived in the US, I hadn’t returned with an American accent. There were also times when I was the subject of gossip. I had to take care of this by myself; I couldn’t rely on my mom to step in on my behalf. As a result, I came out with a stronger sense of self and acceptance of who I am.

I treasure my years at boarding school. They were some of the most amazing years of my life. They built both my physical and mental resilience. Being a boarder taught me to have a thick skin, to understand that I need to persevere even when things don’t seem to be going my way. It gave me the drive to work toward personal improvement that has never left me, and taught me that – beyond all else – I am responsible for my life and that I should live it to the full.

When I signed up to run the Comrades in 2014, I was initially really excited. The idea that I would run 89 kilometres from Pietermaritzburg to Durban and set a new level of fitness for myself was exhilarating. However, a few days after signing up, I started to doubt myself. Would I be able to get to the finish line? Did I really have what it takes? That’s when I had to make sure that some level of mental resilience kicked in; I had to crush the doubt and put in the hard work necessary to prepare myself for the race.

Those months of preparation tested both my physical and mental capacity. Physically, I had to find out how far my body could run without injury, and how fast it could go. Mentally, I had to keep motivating myself to continue training; no matter how easy it was to rather see friends, or relax at home, regardless of how tired I was, or the doubts I harboured.

It is a universal truth that you cannot know how capable you are until you challenge yourself, stepping outside your comfort zone. You have to give everything you have, to push yourself, to find out how capable you are and where you can improve. That may sound like a Catch-22 – trying something before you know whether you are capable – but it’s the only way to have any realistic idea of your abilities.

The training period was marred by a lot of stress and times when I did no training at all because it coincided with our wedding, which was scheduled to take place three months prior to the race. Nonetheless, I developed a good understanding of my abilities and, despite the minimal training, I was excited and ready to take on this new challenge. My friend and training partner, Denga Ramuedzisi, and I set a time goal for ourselves – we aimed to complete the Comrades in nine hours.

On the morning of the race, I was a little nervous, but to be honest the excitement didn’t wear off until 10 kilometres in. At that point I realised that we still had 79 kilometres to go and doubt crept back in. The thoughts started: “It’s gonna be a long day – will I really be able to get to the finish line? Will I achieve my time goal?” At that moment I was physically capable, my body was still feeling good and I knew from my training that I had the resilience to achieve the goal. But in order for me to keep going, I would have to call on deeper mental resilience; I kept running because that was what I had come to do. It was the reason I had spent months training. I had a goal – I knew I was physically capable – and refused to allow my thoughts to get in the way of achieving it. So I persevered.

In preparation for The Big C, it helps to train with a partner because you encourage each other to keep going. It is important that you train together, too, so that you can complement each other’s pacing and know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. When it comes to finding a partner, you can’t just run with anyone. It needs to be someone with a similar level of fitness. I was very confident in my choice of partner because Denga and I had run a good few races together and he had successfully completed The Big C before. However, unbeknown to me, he wasn’t going to be by my side when I crossed the finish line.

About 25 kilometres in, he pulled me aside and insisted we talk. He told me that he hadn’t been honest with me and that he had flu-like symptoms in the week leading up to the race. He still wasn’t fully recovered and was not going to be able to help me achieve the time goal we had set for ourselves. He then said, “I didn’t tell you until we started running, because I know you can still achieve our goal and I didn’t want you to give up. But you are now going to have to go ahead without me.”

I was shocked and immediately went into denial, insisting that we were in a partnership and we were going to finish together regardless. This wasn’t the most useful approach, because clearly Denga was suffering and, rather than seeing it for what it was – a lack of physical resilience – I immediately assumed it was no more than a lack of mental resilience and tried to convince him to stick with me. I should have accepted what he’d decided and realised that, even though achieving the goal was more challenging on my own, I still had every reason to forge ahead. To his credit, he gave it everything he could, but we still ended up parting ways 56 kilometres into the race.

After Denga fell back, I went through stages of deep doubt and became emotional – at one point I even started crying. However, despite all of this, my legs were still moving, I was still physically resilient and I made sure that my mental resilience kept pace.

At 60 kilometres, my physical resilience started to take strain. I was in physiological pain and psychologically in utter despair. I could easily have sat down on the side of the road and allowed the pain and despair to overwhelm me – but I refused. A renewed injection of mental resilience kicked in. I knew my body well enough from the training to know that the pain I was experiencing was not because I was injuring myself. It was therefore safe for me to continue without causing serious physical damage. I also knew that, no matter what, I wasn’t going to allow my mental resilience to give in before my physical resilience. Physically, we do have limits; these are often not nearly as restricting as people imagine, but we do have them. Mentally, there are no limits.

At 79 kilometres I realised that I had missed the time goal my partner and I had set. At this point, another injection of mental resilience kicked in. It had me saying to myself, “You have been physically and psychologically battered, you have felt pain and despair and you have kept going. Are you really going to allow the fact that you didn’t meet your original time goal to defeat you?” I pulled myself together, set a new time goal (10 hours 30 minutes) and kept pushing forward.

At the 84-kilometre mark (five kilometres from the finish line), a rush of excitement came flooding back. I was nearly there – I was going to achieve the second time goal I had set for myself. I suddenly felt a new energy in my legs, going from eight minutes per kilometre to five minutes per kilometre. People looked up in surprise as I zipped past. At this point, more mental resilience kicked in, and I found myself saying, “I don’t mind how physically and psychologically broken you thought you were just moments ago – I’m going to prove you wrong. You have more strength inside you than you think.”

If you look at photos of me crossing the finish line you will see a face that’s happy, a face at peace. That’s what pushing the boundaries of your mental and physical resilience looks like.

From this experience, I learned that resilience is something that continually tops itself up if we allow it to. I clearly went through dark moments of self-doubt throughout the race, but I kept topping myself up. (Incidentally, Denga did continue after we parted. He stopped at the medical tent for a check-up and was given the green light to continue. He crossed the finish line a few minutes after me.)

Physical is defined by the Online Merriam-Webster Dictionary as: having a material existence: perceptible especially to the senses and subject to laws of nature. Of and relating to the body.

Mental is defined by the same source as: of or relating to the total emotional and intellectual response of an individual to external reality.

Resilience is defined by the same source as: the ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune, stress or change.

My understanding of physical resilience is that we are only as resilient as human biology allows us to be. For example, you cannot breathe under water unassisted for long periods, nor will you ever be able to. You are, however, capable of doing anything biology has allowed anyone else to do, with – in extreme cases – a few exceptions. In my experience, the exceptions are few and far between (more so than most of us realise), especially when the power of the human spirit is taken into account.

My understanding of mental resilience is that it is the psychological load you are able to carry while still approaching life in a way that allows you to live it to the full and to celebrate each moment – which is why I say there is no limit to the mental resilience you can develop.

We already have at least some physical resilience, but how optimised that resilience is will differ from person to person. We can improve our physical resilience by seeking opportunities to use our body every day. This could be carrying my child on my hip, walking to work, taking the stairs, or making a concerted effort to exercise. I can then assess my level of resilience with an open, non-judgemental mind, and start working on seeing small improvements.

Steps to seeing improvements include seeking out more physical activity, making changes to diet, focusing on hydration and ensuring quality sleep. Over time, these improvements accumulate and we should see a significant difference in levels of physical resilience. By seeing physical resilience as a long-term commitment rather than a short-term project – in other words, understanding that we can keep making small improvements for the rest of our life – we make it a part of our day-to-day focus and start to notice how it improves our quality of life, enhancing our ability to engage with the world.

As with physical resilience, we all have an existing level of mental resilience that we can work on optimising. And there are many ways to improve our mental resilience.

We need to make a special effort to notice when something evokes happy feelings. This may be a salary increase, or when a child makes us laugh. Notice the thought processes you have in that moment: happiness, joyfulness and a general sense of positivity. Notice, too, that someone else might approach this very same moment in an entirely different way. A salary increase, for instance, may not be a joy at all if we’re unhappy in our job or would rather not work for that company: “Great … This is just another sign that I’m going to be stuck here forever.”

In the same way, notice that when we have an experience that results in us being negative, someone else might take a different approach. If we’re irritated because we’re stuck in traffic, someone who may have only just got a car and is used to taking public transport might revel in the blessing of having her own vehicle. This is an important realisation because it shows that how we approach different events is not ingrained in us or simply instinctive. It’s not “just how we are because we’re human”.

Ultimately, improving mental resilience is about recognising that no matter what happens, we can choose an approach that embraces the experience. I’m going to say that again: No matter what happens in your life, you can choose to positively embrace the experience on offer. If we can understand and implement this, we will truly start living our life to the full.

Physical and mental resilience complement each other. This is clear in the way I approached finishing the Comrades. Without mental resilience, it’s easy to quit – even before you are able to improve your physical resilience. On the other hand, taking physical ability into consideration is key to developing mental resilience.

Let me elaborate. I decide to take the stairs at work every day instead of the lift. I take the stairs the first time and notice that I’m physically capable of using them. I’m also aware that if I stick to doing this every day, my physical resilience will improve over time. However, after a few days of taking the stairs I may think, “I’ve taken the stairs every day, but today I’m really late for the morning meeting, so just this once I’m going to take the lift.” This may happen on one or two more occasions and then, before I realise it, I’ve slowly reverted to taking the lift again.

If, in the first instance, I silence the inclination that will steer me away from my goal, I will continue to take the stairs. Silencing that thought every time it comes up takes mental resilience, and so every time I manage to do so my mental fortitude improves. Staying disciplined improves physical resilience as well.

Similarly, if I am trying to decide whether I need to practise more mental resilience in a situation, I need to take a closer look at my physical resilience. Sometimes I may feel that I’m unable to embrace a situation because it is physically damaging to me. The rule of thumb is that if I’m experiencing physical damage in a particular situation, I need to remove myself from that situation. However, if I am not experiencing physical damage – just psychological discomfort – then I should stay and challenge myself to be more mentally resilient. There are, of course, extreme circumstances that prove exceptions to this rule. If, for example, I’ve stopped at a traffic light and someone rear-ends my car, creating a dent, is it possible for me to embrace this experience, or is it automatically a downer?

In order to find out, let’s take a look at what I will need to do next: I will now have to turn off the ignition, climb out and approach the other driver. Am I physically resilient enough to do that? If I am, then the situation is manageable.

Maternity shoot, April 2015, Delta Park (photo © Corinna Tannian)

Cape Town Cycle Tour, 2011

Comrades Marathon finish line, 2014

Gugu’s 4th (and final) Absa Cape Epic, 2016

Gugu patiently waiting at the finish line of the Absa Cape Epic to propose, 2013

Showing off the finishers’ medal and engagement ring

Marriage proposal (photos © Jon Meinking)

Lobola celebrations, Letshego’s home, Mafikeng, 22 June 2013
Left to right: Puleng Zulu (Gugu’s mom), Gomolemo Moshoeu (Letshego’s mom), Gugu, Letshego and Liyanda Ndlovu (Gugu’s sister)

Lobola celebration lunch
Letshego’s friends. Left to right: Teresa Grobler, Sheila Akinnusi, Mpho Ramorola, Janani Ayshwarya Balendra, Liyanda Ndlovu, Elize Mabinya, Mercy Mogase, Cherene Wilken

Lobola celebrations, Mafikeng, June 2013

The happy couple

With Gugu’s mom, Puleng Zulu

Welcoming at the Zulu home, Johannesburg, 23 February 2014

Post wedding ceremony, Nelspruit, February 2014

Left to Right: Kgalalelo Moshoeu (Letshego’s aunt), Wilmore Moshoeu (Letshego’s uncle), Mildred Ketumile Moshoeu (Letshego’s grandma), Gugu, Letshego, Gomolemo Moshoeu (Letshego’s mom), Segakolodi Mokgatle (Letshego’s aunt)

Our wedding cake

Gugu and his dad, Peter Zulu

Peter Zulu (Gugu’s dad), Puleng Zulu (Gugu’s mom), Letshego, Gugu, Liyanda Ndlovu (Gugu’s sister)

The bridal party
Left to right (back row): Motheo Sekgaphane, Stevel Marc, Andre Ross Left to right (front row): Liyanda Ndlovu, Gugu, Letshego, Mercy Mogase, Kelebogile Tladi, Lebo Sekoto (flower girl)

Caught in a moment (photo © Corinna Tannian)

A fitness shoot for Mamas and Papas magazine, 8 months pregnant (photo © Gareth Jacobs)

Letshego cradling Lelethu, newborn shoot, June 2015 (photo © Corinna Tannian)

Gugu kissing Lelethu during the newborn shoot (photo © Corinna Tannian)

A family portrait at Lelethu’s newborn shoot (photo © Corinna Tannian) Left to right: Letshego’s mom, Letshego’s gran, Letshego, Gugu holding Lelethu, Gugu’s mom and dad, Gugu’s sister

Lelethu photographed with Gugu’s motorsport suit and helmet during the newborn shoot (photo © Corinna Tannian)

At the Kilimanjaro National Park gate, before starting Trek4Mandela, 2016

With Sello Hatang (CEO of the Nelson Mandela Foundation) at the Trek4Mandela farewell event, OR Tambo before departing for Kilimanjaro, July 2016

With Richard Mabaso, CEO of Imbumba Foundation, at Kilimanjaro Mountain Resort, Marangu, the morning we began the trek, 14 July 2016

A team picture of the Trek4Mandela climbers, before tackling Kilimanjaro, July 2016

A victorious pose by Gugu on Kilimanjaro

Letshego handing Lelethu a tree to plant in memory of her dad during the Trees4Gugu planting in the Kilimanjaro region, Tanzania, 13 July 2018 (photo © Xavier Saer)

This was Gugu’s final Instagram post: “Just taking a stroll in the garden high above a blanket of clouds.” One of our final pictures together on acclimatisation day, 16 July 2016

I will then need to negotiate the other driver’s temperament, which could range from apologetic to aggressive. If they are not outright aggressive, I should be mentally resilient enough to have a conversation with them and ask for what I need: a photo of their driver’s licence and the details of their insurance company.

If they are unreasonable, or drive away without providing this information, I can ask myself whether I am physically capable of doing what I have to do next, which is report the incident at the police station, or perhaps make a call to the office to let them know I’ll be late.

Asking myself whether I am physically capable of taking the next step helps me gain perspective on the situation. Is it really a disaster? If I haven’t been physically hurt and am capable of taking the next step, then how serious can the situation really be?

People do sometimes drive into the back of other people’s cars. We know this. Experiencing it can teach us all sorts of useful skills: how to negotiate, how to remain calm when someone else isn’t, how to take action to resolve a challenge and, most importantly, how to take back our power and have a good day regardless of what happens to us.

Challenging experiences are often the most strengthening. If, from the outset, we take the approach that we want to live our life to the full by embracing all experiences, we will reap the benefits of every situation we encounter and experience our own well of deep inner strength. Mental resilience begins at the perimeter of our psychological comfort zone. Just when we think we can’t go further, we push ourselves out of our comfort zone and find that we can.

Let me bring all of this back home and share a personal experience I had when I was a contestant on Survivor SA Maldives in 2010. I was in the final three with Hykie Berg and Bonnie Mbuli and we were faced with our last immunity challenge, that I realise in retrospect tested both my physical and mental resilience. The challenge required us to climb a wooden beam the width of a telephone pole, wrap our arms and legs around it and hang there for as long as possible. The last person remaining would win the challenge. Within the first 30 minutes, Bonnie gave up and fell off her pole. I knew that Bonnie and Hykie had a pact and if I didn’t win this challenge, they would vote me off at the next Tribal Council. Once Bonnie was down, Hykie started playing mind games with me, trying to test my mental resilience. He started by telling me that the challenge was for him to win and that there was no way I could hang on any longer. He tried all kinds of tricks of the mind, but little did he know that I was playing my own game with myself. I simply turned my head in the opposite direction, away from him, and ignored him. I then tuned into myself and started assessing the situation. My feet were hurting terribly, but I knew they weren’t bleeding and that the moment I stepped off the pole, the pain would go away. That was me tapping into my physical resilience. I then started thinking about my position in the game and realised that if I gave up at that moment, it would mean the end of my Survivor journey because Bonnie and Hykie would almost certainly vote me off. I had worked hard to get myself to the top three out of 20 contestants. When we were still two separate tribes, I had made clever alliances. Once we were playing the game as individuals, I worked hard to win the majority of the individual challenges to keep myself in the running. After working so hard, I couldn’t just give up. So I negotiated with myself to stay on. My mental resilience kicked in and I hung on for dear life. Three hours later, Hykie finally gave up and fell off the pole. I won the final challenge and voted Bonnie off. Although Hykie ultimately won Survivor, I learned a great deal about my physical and mental resilience.

A life philosophy I have learned to embrace is: When you have conquered yourself, it is no longer that hard to conquer the rest of the world. It all boils down to acceptance. We, as human beings, decide when something is “good” or “bad”. We need to learn to accept things as they happen instead of judging them. It has happened. You may like certain situations more than others, but that doesn’t make them “good” or “bad”. We cannot allow these situations to define us. Only I have the power to define myself – and I need to take full advantage of that.

Eckhart Tolle explains how, when we practise acceptance, we reach a deep inner state where our mind can no longer control us through judgement. By saying “yes” to all the happenings of life, accepting a moment for just what it is, we attain inner peace. So no matter whether events are happy or sad, our deeper state remains peaceful. “The YES to what is,” says Tolle, “reveals a dimension of depth within you that is dependent neither on external nor on the internal conditions of constantly fluctuating thoughts and emotions.”

These are values that I truly believe in and practise. I chose not to see death as “good” or “bad”, but simply as a part of life. When Gugs passed, I actively focused on developing my physical and mental resilience. Because I had experience competing in – and completing – sporting events such as the Comrades and the Cape Epic, I had a deep sense that I could overcome this tragedy.

I also knew that, although the proverb says, “Time heals all wounds”, time wasn’t about to heal the wound left by my husband’s passing – only mental resilience could do that. That’s why I’m able to get up every morning; it’s why I keep setting goals and achieving them; it’s why I continue to embrace every experience life has to offer me.

If I can feel the kind of deep sadness, loss and despair I felt when Gugs passed and still get to a point where I embrace death as a part of life, then I know I can conquer anything. Gugs would be proud. I live this in honour of his memory. It’s how he lived his life and I know that it’s what he would want for me and Lelethu.

The poem “Death is Nothing at All” – which I’ve mentioned before – resonated with me in the months following Gugs’s death. It is by Henry Scott Holland and talks about how time doesn’t heal everything. Yes, it makes it easier to deal with the flurry of emotions, but it doesn’t necessarily make the sadness go away. He likens it to a scar that never goes away or a broken bone that aches on rainy days.

On those grey, rainy days, mental resilience parts the clouds and allows the sun to shine through.

Physical exercise is a natural stress-reliever because it releases good endorphins. When I exercise, I’m happier. I feel lighter. I am able to conquer the world. If a week passes and I haven’t done any exercise, I feel down, heavy and lethargic.

I got my “multi-passionate” athleticism from my mom. She was a runner and played netball, basketball and squash socially, but she never forced me to become physically active – she allowed me to just be. When I was young, though, she always asked me to accompany her when she was training. This request was initially practical, because as a single mother she couldn’t leave me unattended.

When I was eight years old we were living at Fort Hare University, where my mom was a lecturer and house matron. We lived opposite the sports grounds, so whenever she went out to train she would take me with her and tell me to bring something to entertain myself. I would watch her run around the athletics field and eventually – curious to see what all the fuss was about – I joined her. On other days I would bring my netball and shoot hoops to pass the time. As a result, fitness developed as an organic interest in me.

I also drew inspiration from the fact that she managed to maintain her physical resilience while raising a young child. Initially, acclimatising to life as a single mother, taking care of Lelethu and dealing with the loss of my husband had a negative impact on my health. Before Gugs passed, I trained six days a week in preparation for the Durban Half Ironman. I was able to do this because I knew my husband was at home with our daughter. After his death, training became more of a challenge – plus, I had neither the mental nor physical capacity to get up and train. My mind was a mess.

I started off by prioritising my health without feeling bad that I couldn’t stick to a strict schedule. I had to make sure that my training sessions were in the morning or mid-afternoon and enlisted the help of my in-laws and my mother to look after Lelethu during this time. They were an amazing support.

When you are in touch with your physical resilience and aware of your goals, it is possible to pull yourself back on track. Exercise was an essential part of my grieving and recovery process. It was the one thing that was guaranteed to take the edge off the deep sadness I felt.

Here are the six ways to maintain the kind of exercise regime that I fell back on to help me get going again:

This one was easy for me when it was time to get back into exercise after Gugs passed. I enjoy running, cycling, swimming and gym training. Many people force themselves to go to the gym as the default place of exercise. The gym, however, is not for everyone and it’s really not the only place that you can keep active or lose weight. We should never do something that feels like a chore; if we do something we don’t want to stop doing, motivation will come naturally. In my case, running and cycling come very easily to me, so that’s where I started.

Whether it’s a race or a time/distance I want to achieve, I set a goal. For example, when I found out that I was pregnant, I knew that I was going to need a plan to lose weight after I had given birth. That’s when I decided to train for the Durban Half Ironman in 2016. My aim was to lose the weight, and get fit, before Lelethu turned one.

In 2012, when Gugs and I were training for the Cape Epic, we needed our friends and family to understand why we couldn’t socialise the way we always had. We had to commit to our training, and they gave us space so that we could achieve our goal. In my case, when Gugs was no longer around, my mom and in-laws stepped in to support my fitness journey.

Reward yourself for setting a goal by purchasing the gear you need. This is also an indication of your commitment and mental and physical investment.

A partner will help motivate you on days when you would otherwise fall off the wagon. Your partner will hold you accountable and help to get you out of bed and training on days when you find it hard to get up. And you’ll do the same for them.

For those who want to lose weight, toss out the bathroom scale – the fit of your clothes and your image in the mirror will tell you all you need to know to track your progress.

LESSON 6: Become resilient