Jenny’s Journey: A Year in Stregnth
“For the first time in my life, I feel authentically myself.”
Jenny Maguire has moved 17 times in her life. With each Air Force relocation, she felt pieces of herself slipping away—her health, her energy, her joy.
By the time she landed in O’Fallon, she was on five prescription medications, taking daily naps just to function, struggling through simple tasks like grocery shopping, and watching her daughters grow up without a mom who could keep up.
She knew something had to change.
The Breaking Point
“I was taking more medication than I felt was reasonable for someone under 40,” Jenny remembers. “I was worried about how I was struggling through simple tasks, coping in unhealthy ways, needing naps every day, and missing out on family activities because I just couldn’t keep up.”
She thought back to the times in her life when she felt strong and stable. The common thread was always movement. But this time, she knew she needed something more.
“I needed to get back to moving my body. AND this time, I needed accountability.”
What you see: The beginning. Jenny making the decision to show up for herself.
What you don’t see: Five medications. Daily naps. Missing family activities. Coping in unhealthy ways.
365 Days of Consistency
What happened over the next year wasn’t magic. It was showing up—day after day, check-in after check-in, choice after choice—for 365+ days straight.
The results? Staggering.
- Cholesterol cut in half
- Five prescription medications reduced to one (with plans to eliminate that last one this month)
- Daily naps? Gone. She doesn’t need caffeine to wake up anymore.
- Weight loss? Significant enough that people literally didn’t recognize her.
- Energy transformation: “I have energy to do more in a few hours than I could in an entire weekend!”
But those metrics don’t tell the whole story.
Six Months of Showing Up
Halfway through the year. The changes stacking. The momentum building.
The Ripple Effect of Showing Up
“I can’t say that the training itself was the biggest impact, but the community I found in my commitment to training,” Jenny explains. “I began to look forward to my early morning workouts, which made me eager to get to bed sooner. Going to bed earlier meant less snacking, skipping drinks, and lighter meals. Restful sleep gave me more energy… and so on and so on. Think—if you give a mouse a cookie,” she laughs.
The changes kept stacking. Better sleep. More patience. And something deeper. After years of watching life happen while she sat on the sidelines—too tired, too medicated, too worn down—Jenny could have been bitter. Instead, she made a different choice. “I choose joy,” she says. “I have more patience and genuinely look forward to taking care of myself.”
The Moments That Matter Most
At this year’s Halloween party, people introduced themselves to Jenny—they didn’t recognize her from the year before.
What you see: Jenny unrecognized at Halloween
What you don’t see: 365 days of check-ins. Choosing walking over running when her body needed it. Being the sober one at parties. Saying no when everyone said yes. Going back to therapy. Showing up through family losses.
But Jenny? She finally recognizes herself.
And that’s what led to the moment that truly matters: her daughters started telling her how motivated they are by her strength and determination.
“I’ve only ever wanted to give them the best,” Jenny says. “It just took a moment for me to realize living by example was the most effective way to show them they deserve the best.”
Her husband sees it. Her daughters see it. And for the first time in a very long time, Jenny sees it in herself.
A Difficult Year, An Unbreakable Commitment
Here’s what makes Jenny’s story even more remarkable: 2025 has been brutal.
Significant family losses. Sicknesses. Injuries. Major transitions. The kind of year that would give anyone permission to quit, to pause, to say “I’ll start again when things calm down.”
Jenny went back to therapy to support the emotional challenges. And she kept showing up at Studio Strong.
“I tried to focus on what was in my control and what the long-term goal was: To live a life worth living. That meant making time for moving and staying accountable to my goals.”
Through family losses, sicknesses, and life’s hardest moments—she kept showing up. This is what resilience looks like.
The Sanctuary She Thought She’d Lost Forever
About 10 years ago, an overuse injury ended Jenny’s long-distance running career. She wasn’t just a casual jogger—she had plans to run an ultra-marathon. She’d run races all over the world—not fast, but far. Running was her therapy. Her sanctuary. When that ended, she lost more than a hobby. She lost her primary way of coping with the constant upheaval of military life.
“I’ve been able to accept that I might not run 26.2 miles again, but I wasn’t willing to accept ‘never running again’ unless the reason was out of my control.”
Last year before the weather cooled, she tried to jog on a walk. She lasted 25 seconds, and the pain was so intense she almost couldn’t get home. That’s when she knew: she needed to rebuild from the ground up.
So she did. For a full year, she didn’t attempt running again. She just showed up, built strength, trusted the process.
Then a few weeks ago in group class, she felt ready. She challenged herself to run on the treadmill for a one-minute circuit. She made it 45 seconds. Next round: a full minute. Final round: she increased the speed.
Weeks later, she decided to test herself during her warmup before her personal training session.
She ran for ten minutes. Gas still in the tank. Tears streaming down her face.
“I had tears in my eyes. I’m not lying when I tell you that.”
Not because of the 10 minutes. Because after 365 days of showing up and rebuilding, she got back something she thought was gone forever.
Reclaiming what she thought was lost forever. 365 days of showing up led to this moment.
What Keeps Her Coming Back
“Definitely the community at Studio Strong, my family’s support, and the connection I feel to myself again,” Jenny says. “For the first time in my life, I feel authentically myself.”
What does that community look like? When asked how Studio Strong specifically helped her journey, Jenny has a simple answer: “By being human.”
She explains Studio Strong: “It isn’t trying to be perfect, and it doesn’t claim to be. From the first time I walked in, I felt comfortable and not like I needed to pretend. I have been encouraged, challenged, hugged, kicked in the ass, and welcomed like I was family, not a customer.”
In a fitness world full of glossy perfection and intimidating spaces, Jenny found a place where everyone—trainers, staff, and clients—shows up authentically. And that authenticity gave her permission to find her way back to herself.
Her next goals? A 10K in the spring. And something she’s always wanted: “To be one of those badass ladies that can crank out pull-ups!”
When asked what surprised her most about Studio Strong, she doesn’t mention the programming: “Probably the things that I didn’t expect to have as much of an impact—jokes, flexibility, life stories, consistency, tears, the boss being late, and celebrations for things I may not have noticed were progress.”
What Her Family Sees, Then and Now
What you see: Jenny with her husband and daughters
What you don’t see: A mom too exhausted to participate. Family activities she had to skip. Daughters watching their mother struggle through simple tasks. The worry in everyone’s eyes.
What you see: Jenny with her husband and daughters today
What you don’t see: Two daughters who tell their mom daily how motivated they are by her strength. A husband who witnesses her determination. A family that now has a mom with energy to show up. The example she’s setting that her daughters deserve the best—by being her best.
Just Show Up
If Jenny could tell herself something on day one, what would it be?
“Just show up.”
And to anyone who keeps putting it off?
“A year from now you will wonder why you didn’t invest in yourself sooner.”
Then, one more time for the people in the back: “Just show up.”
Because 365 days later, you might not recognize yourself either—in the best possible way.
A Little About Me: Jenny Maguire
What I do: Mental health psychotherapist specializing in treating sex/intimacy/relationship issues and PTSD among service members, first responders, and those who care for them. I’ve been part of a group practice in Maryland for 3 years and opened a private practice in Illinois this year.
How I decompress: COOK and EAT! I love exploring cultures through their food and spending my free time re-imagining recipes and meals from far away places.
What gets me pumped: My classmates think I’m very particular about music, but it just needs to have some energy! They’ll also tell you I’m not shy about telling the instructor to change it.
My motto: Find a way. “Without struggle there can be no progress.” —Frederick Douglass
Studio Strong in three words: “Just keep swimming,” she laughs. “No, but seriously… Consistency. Commitment. Community.”
Bonus Insight –
Jenny isn’t a fan of traditional before-and-after narratives.
“I don’t want to think of a beginning and end to fitness and overall well-being,” she explains. “When I think of the traditional ‘before and after,’ I think of someone waking up and looking in the mirror—surprised by what they see like it happened mysteriously. Which makes it possible to ignore what was going on leading up to it. And that’s where we need to focus on the change.”
As a therapist, Jenny understands that real transformation isn’t about one dramatic moment. It’s about daily choices that either move you toward the life you want or keep you stuck in patterns that don’t serve you.
When people ask what she’s done to get where she is and she mentions tracking her food, they inevitably ask about cheat days.
Her response? “I think it’s counterproductive to reward myself with a life choice I’m trying to recover from. I wouldn’t serve a recovering alcoholic a drink to celebrate their third month sober.”
Jenny’s “what works” includes the unsexy stuff: listening to her body when it’s hurting, taking breaks even if it means canceling a race, walking instead of running, being the sober one at a party, saying no when everyone says yes.
She says, “And it’s a work in progress. A constant effort to be mindful and honest with ourselves.”
That’s the part nobody photographs. The daily decision to be honest about what’s working and what isn’t. The choice to prioritize long-term health over short-term comfort. The willingness to look different, act different, choose differently—even when nobody’s watching.
Especially when nobody’s watching