"The Only Way To It Is Through It."

This week on WORDS MATTER, Deanna Ley, The Catalytic Coach, reflects on a solo 16-mile hike that became more than a physical challenge. It became living proof of a quote that has guided her for years:

“The only way to it is through it.”

What began as a way to mark the completion of her book ROOTED: Your 30-Day Journey Toward Whole-Self Health turned into a powerful lesson about resistance, effort, and staying with yourself when things get uncomfortable. Deanna shares how the trail mirrored real life — how the brain looks for exits, how the body speaks up, and how growth asks us to respond rather than retreat.

What Listeners Will Learn:
• Why resistance often shows up at the very beginning of something that matters
• How the brain’s need for safety can sound like logic when you are doing something new
• What “through it” actually looks like when you care for your whole self
• How adjusting does not mean quitting
• Why hard things done on purpose become evidence you can return to later

Memorable Quotes:
• “The only way to it is through it.” - Deanna Ley
• “Our brains are not designed for success. They’re designed for survival.” - Rory Vaden
• “Going through it doesn’t mean ignoring what’s happening in your whole-self.”
• “Doing something hard on purpose gives you evidence.”

This episode is an invitation to stop looking for the easy exit and start trusting your ability to stay with yourself — one step at a time — even when things feel heavy, unfamiliar, or slow.

Your WORDS MATTER, because YOU MATTER.

To watch the video diary of the hike that Deanna mentioned in this episode, visit:
https://youtu.be/JZu_J09WasQ

❤️❤️❤️

Transcript

Well, hey there, friends. Welcome back to WORDS MATTER. I'm recording this episode about 10 days after I did something that's still working on me. On December 16th, 2025, I hiked over 16 miles by myself in a single day. That's the longest hike I've ever done. And my body's mostly recovered now, although my heels are still tender - and I might lose my first toenail ever. Fun stuff, right?

But something else shifted out there on that trail. Something deeper than the physical. I can feel it in how I'm moving through my days, how I'm talking to myself when things get hard, and how I'm showing up differently even in the smallest of moments. It feels like the right time to talk about a quote that's been guiding me for years.

"The only way to it is through it."

Let me tell you exactly what happened, because this hike has become a living example of what that quote actually means.

Nine months. That's how long I've spent writing "ROOTED: Your 30-Day Journey Toward Whole-Self Health". Nine long months. Hours of deep focus - the kind of commitment that required me to step back from almost everything else that I love. Including hiking. Including the trails that normally feed my soul and clear my head. That work - writing that book - demanded that sacrifice, and I gave it willingly. but I felt the loss of those miles.

When I finally uploaded that book - when it was officially done and out of my hands and into Amazon's - I sat with this question.

"How do I want to mark this moment?"

I didn't want a party. I didn't want something that disconnected me from the work I had just done or pull me away from myself. I wanted something that honored the effort. Something that matched the significance of what I had just accomplished.

So I chose a hike. A hike that I've been dreaming about for a really long time.

It's called the Green Rock Trail. It's here in St. Louis County, Missouri, and it starts at Rockwoods Range Conservation Area, moves through Greensfelder Park - which is right behind Six Flags - and finishes at Rockwoods Reservation Conservation Area.

AllTrails has it listed at 14.3 miles, but by the time I was done, I'd clocked 16.1.

I want you to understand what that number meant for me. The longest hike this year has been six miles. Six.

So this wasn't just a celebration hike. This was me choosing something would require everything I had.

Now, Mile One started straight uphill. No easing in. No gentle warm up to let my body adjust. Nope. Just climb.

And immediately within minutes my brain started doing what brains do when you ask them to do something unfamiliar. It started questioning everything. The timing of this hike. The distance I had committed to it. It reminded me - helpfully - that I hadn't hiked more than six miles in months. It started calculating - looking for the most efficient path back to safety.

Now, a while ago, I heard something on a podcast that stopped me in my tracks. It was Rory Vaden who said it.

"Our brains are not designed for success. They're designed for survival".

I was actually hiking the Lewis and Clark Trail at the Weldon Spring Conservation Area when I heard those words. Earbuds in. Moving right along. And when that sentence landed... WOO! I literally stopped walking. Because it explained something. Something that I had lived so many times, but never quite had the language for.

Yep, our brains are wired to keep us safe - by keeping us in what it already knows. Familiar patterns that feel manageable. Predictable choices that feel safer than unfamiliar ones.

See, when we decide we want something new - something that asks us to stretch or change - our brain doesn't immediately come along for the ride, friends. Nope. It hesitates. It resists. It looks for the quickest way back to what feels known. To what feels familiar.

And now that response doesn't mean anything is wrong with us. It just means that we're stepping into new territory.

And there I was in Mile One of this celebration hike, experiencing exactly that. My brain wasn't being negative. It wasn't trying to ruin my moment - or take anything away from me. It was doing its job. It was looking for efficiency. Looking for safety. Not celebration.

Now that understanding changes everything about how I relate to resistance now. It gives so much depth to the quote for today.

"The only way to it is through it".

I didn't realize until recently how closely my quote echoes a line that so many people already know from Robert Frost, who first said, The only way out is through".

Now his words speak to enduring hardship so you can move beyond it. My version has always meant something a little bit different to me. See, I'm working to find joy in the journey of it. I'm choosing to stay present while I move forward. Even when things are uncomfortable. Even when my brain is offering me every logical exit.

By Mile Three, I had hit a spot where I could have easily have turned around. I knew exactly where I was on the trail. I had lots of options. The path back to my car was pretty straightforward.

And here's what I want you to notice, because this is one of the very first teaching moments of today's episode.

My brain didn't wait until things felt unbearable to offer me an exit. It showed up early. Right when the effort started to feel real.

See, when resistance comes that quick - when your brain starts problem solving you out of something before you've barely begun - well, that's usually a sign that you're doing something new. Something that matters. Something your survival system hasn't cataloged as safe yet.

You can keep going THROUGH IT. That's what I did.

And the miles, they kept adding up.

By Mile Five, my body now, it started joining in the conversation. My hip made itself known. Not screaming at me quite yet, but definitely speaking up. By Mile Six, my foot started tingling in a way that I just couldn't ignore. So at Mile Seven, I stopped. I changed my socks, loosened my boots, shifted how I was carrying my hip pack.

And all of this matters. See, going THROUGH IT doesn't mean ignoring what's happening in your whole-self. It doesn't mean pushing through pain as if acknowledging it makes you weak. It means responding without retreating. It means staying present, making adjustments, taking care of yourself, and not abandoning your goal for any reason, friends.

Now by Mile Eight, everything from the waist down had an opinion - a strong one. My hip, my foot, my knees, my legs, all of it was communicating very clearly.

And this is where my Whole-Self Health - my mind, my body, and my soul - showed up in a very real way. I wasn't fighting my body. I wasn't treating it like an enemy that was trying to sabotage my amazing celebration. I was listening to it. I was encouraging it. I was reminding it of all we've already done together. All the trails we've conquered. All the challenges we've faced - especially this year - as one.

And that shift is everything. See, when you stop fighting against yourself and start fighting FOR yourself, the effort stays real. The discomfort doesn't magically disappear, but the relationship changes.

It steadies. Your nervous system settles just enough for you to keep going.

You become your own best encourager instead of your own opposition. You tell yourself, "I am on your side".

Now, as I kept moving, my pace naturally slowed, but my focus narrowed. I stopped thinking about how many miles were left. Because doing that math in my head? WOO! It would have pulled me right out of the moment. It would have made the remaining distance feel impossibly heavy.

And that's another teaching worth naming. When something feels overwhelming, widening your focus to take in the whole picture can actually make it feel heavier. But bringing your attention back to what's directly in front of you - the next tree, the next turn in the trail, the next hundred feet - that's what allows you to keep moving.

Now somewhere, along Mile Ten, I slipped in the mud. I'd chosen a path around that looked a lot safer than through - more stable. I was wrong. The ground gave way, and I went sliding. I did catch myself. I adjusted my footing. Picked a different way - the original way I was supposed to go - and kept going.

Now that moment mirrors so much of life, doesn't it? We make the best decisions we can with the information we have in the moment. We do quick research. We assess the terrain. We choose what looks like the safest path. And sometimes the ground beneath us still surprises us. Sometimes we slip anyway.

But guess what, friends? What shapes us isn't whether we slip. It's what we do afterwards. Do we make it mean something about our judgment, our capability, or our worth? Or do we catch ourselves, adjust, and keep going?

Now, as the sun started dropping lower, something shifted in me. Gratitude took over - in a way I didn't expect. I actually started thanking the trees as I passed them - out loud. Just me and the woods and a steady stream of thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Gratitude didn't change the conditions I was hiking in. My body hurt. The trail still had a ways to go. The sun was setting. It was getting dark, but gratitude changed how I moved through all of those conditions. It kept me connected to what was still holding me up - the beauty around me, the strength I did still have in my legs, and the choice I had made to honor myself in this way - rather than what was wearing me down.

Now at the end of the hike, the funniest thing unfolded. Chris - he had planned this whole thing to surprise me by actually meeting me on the trail so we could walk out together. He wanted to be there for the finish, but AllTrails did him dirty and sent him to a completely different trailhead about a half a mile away.

So his surprise turned into a bit of chaos, both of us trying to find each other. Him hiking in from the wrong direction. Me trying to figure out where he was.

And if you want to see the full hilarity of how all of that unfolded - me getting increasingly delirious, him getting increasingly frustrated with that app - I recorded the whole hike - the whole hike - mile by mile as a video diary. And it's on my YouTube channel. I'll link it in the show notes, and it's worth watching just for that ending, friends. Just for the ending.

When we finally found each other, he wrapped me in the biggest hug. He called me his warrior. And after all of those miles - after every single decision to keep going, when my brain offered me out after out after out - after every conversation with my body, after every moment of choosing to stay present - being seen like that by him mattered. It landed in a way that I'm still enveloped in today.

Now walking out of those woods, my body was exhausted beyond anything I had experienced in a long time. I was in horrible pain in ways I hadn't felt in years. And my brain was just crazy. It was delirious from more than six hours of constant exertion and the level of focus it takes to keep yourself safe and moving for that long.

But I knew. I knew I had just done something that would stay with me. Not as a story to tell. Not as a thing to post about for validation. As something I could return to. As evidence I could draw from.

See on days when things feel heavy or uncertain - when I'm facing something that scares me or challenges me or asks more of me than I think I have - I can remember what it felt like to keep going one step at a time on that trail. And I can trust that I know how to do that again.

Even now, more than a week later, I'm still processing what happened out there. And I'm enjoying every bit of that. The experience didn't end when the hike ended. It's still teaching me. I'm still discovering all that has shifted.

And here's what I want you to take from this, because this is where today's quote becomes yours, too.

"The only way to it is through it".

It isn't a motivational poster you put on your wall. It's not a cute phrase for your Instagram story. It's a strategy for real life.

It's what you do when you want something deeply - really want it in a way that matters - and your brain starts getting loud with all the logical reasons to stop. It's when your body gets uncomfortable and starts asking - Is this really necessary? It's when your emotions start begging you to back off and choose the easier path to protect yourself from potential failure or disappointment.

It's what you do when the thing in front of you feels bigger than your current energy. Bigger than your confidence. Bigger than your patience. Bigger than you.

THROUGH IT doesn't mean you power through with, with, with gritted teeth and force. This is not what I'm talking about.

THROUGH IT means you stay with yourself while you keep moving. You stay connected. You respond to what's happening instead of retreating from it. You stop looking for a shortcut that would keep you stuck in the same familiar place.

Now, your THROUGH IT might look completely different from mine. That's the point.

Maybe you're on a health journey right now. Your THROUGH IT might be waking up a couple weeks in and realizing that you want to quit. Your brain will tell you it'd be so much easier to just go back to doing what you've always done. It'll offer you reasons, and they will sound completely logical and make so much sense in the moment.

THROUGH IT looks like choosing your next meal in a way that serves you anyway. THROUGH IT looks like drinking water even though you're tired of thinking about water. THROUGH IT looks like taking the walk, even when you don't feel like it. Getting back up after an off day and continuing without turning that off day into a character judgment about who you are or what you're capable of.

Maybe you're building something, friends. Maybe you're building a business, a dream, a new direction for your life.

Well, your THROUGH IT might be this part right here. Where you're doing all the work and nothing is happening fast enough. You're showing up, you're putting in the effort, but you don't have the payoff quite yet. You can't see the results. Your brain loves to label that as wasted effort, because it can't see the full picture. It doesn't have the patience for the slow build.

THROUGH IT looks like doing the next right thing anyway. It looks like keeping the promises you made to yourself when the outcome still feels far away,. When there's no external validation yet. When you're the only one who knows how hard you're working.

Maybe you're walking through a hard season right now. Something's happening inside of your home, your relationships, your grief, or your own internal battles.

Your THROUGH IT might look like staying present in conversations you'd rather avoid. It might look like holding a boundary, even when you know it will be misunderstood or criticized. It might look like going to bed without numbing out - without the drink, or the scroll, or whatever your usual escape is - because you know that numbing costs you more than it gives you. Even if it feels like a relief in the moment.

Here's the deepest lesson I want to leave you with today, friends.

Doing something hard on purpose - choosing a challenge that stretches you, asks more of you than what's comfortable... That? Gives you evidence. Evidence that you CAN. It shows you how to respond when things get difficult. It shows you what you're capable of when you don't give yourself the easy out.

And that evidence becomes something real you can draw from at any time. On the days when confidence feels distant and motivation feels thin. When you're facing something new and your brain starts offering you all the same familiar exits.

Come back to that experience. You can remember who you are when you stay with yourself - and keep moving. You can remember that you've done hard things before - that you know how to take care of yourself while still moving forward. That you know how to adjust without abandoning. And that you know the difference between responding and retreating.

Now as we move forward into the New Year, I know most of us are already thinking about what we want to be different from this one. Maybe you want to build something new or change something. Well, I want to invite you to think about your own IT.

What's the thing you've wanted to do? What's the thing you've been holding off on - waiting for the right time or the right feeling or the right level of confidence?

What's the thing that keeps nudging you forward - even when you're trying to ignore it?

Set yourself up to honor that thing. Make a plan that actually supports you instead of sets you up to fail. Stay present with the entire process instead of fixating only on the outcome.

And when your brain starts getting loud - because it will - When your body starts getting uncomfortable - because it will - and when your emotions start begging you to choose an easier path - because they will - I need you to remember this...

The only way to IT is THROUGH IT.

Not around it. Not under it. Not by waiting for it to get easier.

THROUGH IT.

One step at a time. With yourself. For yourself. Choosing you.

Friends, the words we see and read, the words we hear and the words we say to ourselves and about ourselves - about what we're doing and how we're doing it - they all matter.

Your WORDS MATTER, because YOU MATTER.

Have a great day.