I’m at a health conference, and some movement expert’s yammering away about why we need to move, spouting science while we’re all stuck in chairs, stiff as boards from sitting all day. What do you know? I’m bored out of my mind, itching to yell, “Stop telling us—just get us up and moving! Let us feel it!” I guess I’m just venting. I believe in experiencing what I’m teaching—the dancer and actress in me, I guess. It’s how I roll: experiential—get it in your body, and you’ll get it. Knowledge isn’t just in our brains; it’s in every cell of our bodies. The best way to learn is to have the physical and mental experience. Okay, done venting.

Our bodies are meant to move; it’s intuitive, not some lecture’s blah, blah, blah. I’ve spilled that science tea before—check my What is Fitness? blog, if you’re into it. But the real question is: why aren’t we acting on what we already know? We know our bodies are built to move. It’s a deeper knowing, hardwired in us. Watch a baby toddle; she doesn’t Google “benefits of walking.” She just goes, driven by instinct.

Most people get stuck not because they’re clueless, but because they don’t act. Beliefs like “I’m not athletic” or “I’m too old” chain us down. The mind’s a sneaky beast, but there’s a way through, and it starts with a story that yanked me out of my darkest hole.

My Darkest Hour, Luigi’s a Light

I was at my lowest when doctors said I’d end up in a wheelchair, my dancing days done. Hope was a ghost, and I was drowning in “can’t,” convinced I’d never move again. Imagine how you would feel if you thought your body was done for. In that pit, God brought me Luigi—Eugene Louis Faccuito—a jazz dancer whose comeback became my lifeline. His story wasn’t just inspiration; it was a kick in the pants to listen to my inner knowing and fight. Maybe his story—his grit and faith— moves you, like it did me.

Luigi’s Comeback That Lit a Fire

Alright, let’s talk about Luigi—Eugene Faccuito to his mom—a scrappy Ohio kid born in 1925 to Italian immigrant parents, handsome, talented, and destined to be a star. Picture him as a kid, singing and dancing on street corners after his dad died in a car accident in 1930, hustling to help his family. By his teens, he’s winning amateur contests, filling in for Dean Martin with big bands, and touring as a vaudeville performer—all before 20. In 1946, after his WWII Navy service, he hits Hollywood at the age of 21.

With looks, talent, everything that would make him a star, he was ready to light up movie musicals—until a car crash flips his world.

Thrown from the passenger seat on a rainy Los Angeles street, he hits the pavement head first, skidding into a telephone pole. A shattered skull, two-month coma, and paralysis down one side leave him crumpled. Docs swear he’ll never walk again. His face stays scarred, double vision killing his leading-man dreams.

Luigi’s stuck in a hospital bed, body betraying him, but something—grit, God, or gut—whispers, “Never stop moving, kid.” It’s a lifeline, and he grabs it like it’s his last shot. He starts small, twitching fingers, stretching arms, forcing his body to wake up. He’s not chasing lab-coat stats; he’s leaning into that raw, gut-level knowing, the kind that gets a baby on her feet. He convinces a friend who owns a dance studio to let him train there, and let me tell you, he falls so many times he bloodies the floors.

But through those falls, over three years, he develops therapeutic stretches, a process of breathing and movement, teaching himself to stand at the barre, then move on his own. In a year, he’s shuffling, then strutting, training like his life’s on the line.

By 1949, a talent scout catches him, and bam—he’s dancing in the chorus of MGM’s On the Town with Gene Kelly, who dubs him “Luigi” to dodge a name clash.

On set, those stretches keep him moving, and soon, dancers—10, 20 at a time—are copying him, drawn to his flow. Choreographer Robert Alton sees it and says, “That’s a style—teach it.”

By 1951, Luigi’s running jazz classes in L.A., then hits New York in 1956 for Broadway. His studio becomes a hotspot, not just for stars like Liza Minnelli, Twyla Tharp, and John Travolta, but for regular folks—people recovering from strokes and injuries—who came to him to rebuild their bodies with his technique.

His method, born from those bloody studio floors, becomes the world’s first real jazz dance system—alignment, balance, “feeling from the inside,” as he’d say: “To dance, put your hand on your heart and listen to the sound of your soul.” He even gives us the “5, 6, 7, 8” count we all know. Luigi didn’t just get back on his feet; he danced his way into history, building jazz dance with a fire that screams, “Keep moving, no matter what.” The New York Times called him “the father of American jazz dancing” when he passed at 90 on April 7, 2015, leaving a legacy that still moves us.

My Comeback Fire

Luigi’s story was a lifeline when I was facing a future confined to a wheelchair, my dancing days seemingly over. I wasn’t stuck from ignorance—I knew movement mattered. It was fear and a head full of “can’t” that held me down. Luigi’s fight—dragging himself from paralysis through sheer will—shoved me off the sidelines. If he could move again, who was I to quit? His words, “Never stop moving, kid,” burned in me, pushing me to act on my own knowing. It took me two years, but I regained my strength to walk and dance again. To honor the man who sparked my comeback, I got certified in the Luigi technique and now share his moves in my Steps~n~Styles dance class, passing on that grit, joy, and passion to keep moving, no matter what. It’s not about flashy steps; it’s about tapping into that inner fire and acting on it.

Why We Don’t Move

It’s not a lack of knowledge holding us back—our bodies ache to move, like a kid chasing her first steps. Knowledge itself can be paralyzing, piling on reasons that keep us stuck. The real hurdle is those beliefs we drag around like overstuffed suitcases: “I’m not athletic,” “I’m too old,” “I’ll look ridiculous.” Those thoughts are mental quicksand, sinking us before we start. We overthink until the cows come home, but the truth is, you don’t need to be a gym rat or a dancer like Luigi, and you don’t need more reasons why. You just need to listen to that gut-deep knowing screaming or gently whispering, “Get moving!” and take the first step.

Takeaways to Get Moving

Movement is your birthright, not a chore. Forget the expert lectures spouting science like I heard at that conference—your body already knows what to do. These aren’t rules—they’re your nudge to act on that inner knowing, not some PhD’s playbook. Get moving, as Luigi said. Just keep moving.

Here’s how to ditch the excuses and start, relying on you, not some expert’s knowledge:

• Call Out the Lie: Write down one belief holding you back (e.g., “I’m not fit enough”). Flip it to “I can move my way.” Stick it on your fridge.
• Start Stupid Small: Commit to 5 minutes—walk to the mailbox, stretch during a commercial, or boogie to a tune. Small wins spark fire.
• Channel Luigi: When doubt creeps in, hear Luigi’s “Never stop moving, kid.” If he beat paralysis, what’s anyone’s excuse?
• Pick Your Joy: Choose a movement you like—garden, dance to Motown, or chase the dog. If it’s fun, you’ll keep going.
• Claim Your Space: Clear a corner in your home for movement. A rug or open floor says, “This is where I move.”
• Own the Win: After moving, give yourself a mental high-five. You’re not just exercising—you’re honoring your body’s—and spirit’s—spark.

Join My Wise & Wild Path

I’m all about real ways to live who we were designed to be—with a nod to grit and heart. Luigi’s story proves our intuition drives us to move. Just imagine what you could spark by acting on your own knowing. Want more to spark your body’s and soul’s fire? Check out SPBTV-Your Wholistic Living Network for classes and programs to get you moving and living with joy (and without the boring lectures). Want to go deeper? Check out my Leading Lady Experience Live group coaching program, designed for women who are ready to become the Leading Lady of their lives.

And if you want more quick tips for your wholistic living journey? Sign up for my newsletter and check out Sharise Uncut. Let’s move like we mean it, with fire.

I’ve been immersed in Seth Godin’s The Practice: Shipping Creative Work. It’s inspiring and packed with practical insights. The idea I’m hooked on? Committing to the practice—the process—of creative work, not the product, the end result.

Maybe you’re chasing goals too. Maybe you’re stuck on outcomes. You’re designed for a journey that’s about growth, not just the finish line.

Breaking Old Habits

I struggle with this concept. I’ve always been goal-obsessed, racing from one target to the next. The end result was everything; the steps to get there were just hurdles to clear fast. I didn’t enjoy the process or savor the journey. If I didn’t hit my goal quickly, I saw it as pointless. If I failed, I felt like a total failure.

I skipped celebrating small wins, got discouraged by mistakes, and missed the value of the practice. I was too focused on the next goal.

Returning to Dance

Returning to dance training after a long break was tough. I had to start from scratch—out of shape, feeling past my prime. All I knew was I needed to dance again. I set a schedule and small goals but had no clue about my purpose. Did I want to perform? Teach? No big picture in mind, and that scared me.

Seth Godin’s words hit home: “It’s juggling. Throw and throw, and one day the catching will take care of itself.” I took it to mean my skills and purpose would clarify if I committed to the practice.

Showing Up Always

Another gem from Seth: commit to the practice, no matter how you feel. Show up even when you’re not inspired, not “in the flow,” or when the muse is gone. So I did. I’m committed to the practice, not the day’s outcome. I show up whether I feel it or not, even on crappy practice days—and there’ve been plenty. I’m committed, even without knowing what I’ll do with it.

This is new territory for me. Trusting the process without a clear goal is freaky but freeing. I’m more in tune with my dancing than ever, and it’s pure joy.

Letting Go

I’m letting go of expectations, silencing the demanding voices of old teachers, choreographers, and directors screaming for more. From this place of focusing on the process, not the result, I’m finding my expression and soul in my work again. I’m rediscovering myself. I’m breathing. To me, it’s beautiful.

This self-discovery is reshaping my midlife comeback. Seth’s book is one I’ll revisit—its ideas feel timeless and vital for every step of my journey.

Join My Path

Are you rushing to goals or savoring the work? How can you let go and find freedom in the process? I recommend The Practice for your creative journey. Want more insights for your women’s wellness? Sign up for my newsletter and listen to Sharise Uncut. Let’s embrace the practice together.

At 55, when I hear someone—my age or younger—say what they can’t do because of age, I tune it out. I’m Teflon—those words don’t stick. I’ve walked through abuse, abandonment, and loss. I’ve risen above depression, anxiety, and a disease that tried to take me down. Age? It’s got nothing on me.

Maybe you’ve heard those limits too—people saying you’re “too old” to chase what lights you up. Maybe you’ve felt that doubt creep in. I’m here to say: That’s bull—don’t buy into it! You were meant for more.

Owning My Years

I’m getting older, and I’m all in for it. At 55, I’m wiser, more grounded, and done with nonsense. I’ve stopped caring what others think, let go of pointless arguments, and learned to love deeper. But getting older doesn’t mean getting old. My mind stays sharp, my heart young, my dreams and goals still burning.

Maybe you’re feeling that shift—owning your strength but fighting to keep your fire. You can keep it alive. You were created for a life that’s bold and true.

Breaking Every Boundary

I won’t let age define me. Holistic living—staying fit, eating well, and fueling my spirit with what keeps me vibrant. I push past obstacles, break boundaries, jump into new adventures, and following His lead every step of the way.

You don’t have to hold back either. Whether it’s moving, dreaming, or creating, you’re meant to live free, to live bold, to live well.

Defining My Age

Age is just a freakin’ number. I’m 55, (actually, almost 56) and I decide how old I am—alive, fierce, unstoppable. You get to decide too. Don’t let years—or false beliefs (yours or someone else’s) box you in. Keep dreaming, keep moving, keep living big. The next generation is watching.

I’m dancing my defiance, and I’m cheering for you to do the same.

Living Bold Together

Learn about soon-to-be-released SPBTV platform that will bring inspiration to fuel your midlife comeback! Get on the launch list and we’ll defy together!  Catch me on my Sharise Uncut podcast where I cut through the noise about life, health and everything in between, and sign up for my newsletter to keep the no-BS tips incoming.

I remember when coming back to dance training felt like a pipe dream. After closing my performance school, I hadn’t really trained—reeeally trained—for almost 8 years. I was sluggish, out of shape, my diet was a mess, and I felt so discouraged. But I was determined to begin again. My soul needed to dance.

Maybe you’re there—feeling stuck, like starting over is too tough. Maybe you’ve tried before, or it feels impossible, or you feel too old. Here’s a gentle reminder, you were designed for more.

Barely Moving Forward

Back then, it was a brutal start. I could barely get through an hour of class without being breathless, my feet and legs screaming. Staying motivated was the worst—some days, I’d bend over my barre and just groan, “God, I’m so frikkin’ out of shape,” feeling like giving up, feeling old—feeling like maybe it was time to just surrender to being a midlife woman living a midlife misery.

But I promised myself to go slow. Just one more exercise, 5 more minutes. I’d argue with myself (yep, I’m my own debate club), pushing to keep going. That’s where I was—but now, I’m dancing again, stronger every day.

Small Steps, Big Faith

I tossed out negative beliefs—like clothes that no longer fit. I made a schedule, and set small goals—big ones seemed too far off. I started eating to fuel my body, not my stress or emotions. With patience, self-care, a ton of faith, and some gritty mindset work, I got back to dancing full-time—and I’m aiming to leap higher.

You don’t need to be perfect. Maybe you’re juggling life’s chaos—family, work, self-doubt. I’ve been there. And I’m proof, you can start your midlife comeback. Every small step is a win worth celebrating.

Five-Minute Challenge

I challenge you to do just 5 minutes of what you’re yearning for—or something that just sounds fun! 5 minutes of dance, stretch, or something to spark your journey towards a holistic life—a life that feeds your body, mind, and soul. Your midlife comeback starts with just taking that first move, that simple, first step.

One place to start is in one of my classes coming to SPBTV. Classes made just for us midlife women living with purpose and passion. Midlife women ready to live their best lives now!

You were created for this—all you gotta do is get the ball rolling.

First Steps

Learn more about SPBTV-Your Wholistic Living Network, and sign up to get on our launch list! You can also catch me on my Sharise Uncut podcast  where I cut through the noise about life, health and everything in between, and sign up for my newsletter  to keep the no-BS tips incoming.

There’s a lot of confusion about what it means to be fit. Do you need bulging biceps? Ripped abs? Two hours in the gym? Must you run if you hate it? No, none of that defines fitness.

Fitness is simply being able to do physical activities, handle daily tasks, and have energy for life beyond your routine. It’s living fully, feeling your best, and having the energy to do what you love. Who wouldn’t want that? You don’t need a gym to get there.

Why Fitness Matters

Being fit boosts your energy for work, play, and everything in between. Chase kids (or grandkids), run a marathon, or just feel vibrant—fitness makes it possible. Kids and teens benefit too, gaining energy, focus, and self-esteem. Plus, staying active burns more calories, even when you’re sleeping.

Maybe you want more zest for life. Maybe you’re ready to feel your best. A little more fitness can transform your midlife comeback.

Fitness for Total Health

Improving fitness supports your whole body—heart, lungs, bones, joints, brain, and more. It lowers risks of high blood pressure, heart disease, diabetes, and some cancers. It promotes weight loss, boosts mental health, eases depression, anxiety, and stress, and even improves sleep. Fitness improves existing health conditions and prevents future issues. You can’t go wrong getting fitter.

The First Component: Cardio

Physical fitness has three main components, all key to total health. Today, I’m diving into the first: cardiovascular exercise. Cardio improves your heart and lungs’ ability to pump oxygen to your body and muscles. It involves large muscle groups in continuous motion, raising your heart rate for 20-60 minutes.

Benefits of Cardio:

• Boosts oxygen and blood flow
• Flushes your lymphatic system
• Increases endurance
• Lowers blood pressure
• Strengthens immunity
• Improves sleep
• Supports mental health
• Regulates blood sugar
• Promotes healthy weight
• Enhances brain function
• Gives skin a youthful glow

Cardio Guidelines

For health-related cardio fitness, aim for:

• Moderate Activity: 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week (2.5 hours weekly). Moderate means raising your heart rate but still able to talk.
• Vigorous Activity: 20 minutes a day, 3 days a week (1 hour weekly). Vigorous means it’s hard to talk during exercise.

Note: Weight loss or maintenance may require more time or intensity. The 30-minute guideline is for average adults to maintain health and reduce chronic disease risk. Kids 6+ should get 1 hour of moderate-to-vigorous activity daily, through play or structured activities.

Fitness Without a Gym

Beyond guidelines, weave activity into your day. Make movement part of your wholistic living lifestyle:

• Take stairs instead of elevators.
• Walk for errands near home (if safe).
• Play tag with kids—it’s great for them too.
• Pull weeds instead of spraying—better for you and the planet.
• Wash your car to burn calories and save money.
• Mop floors the old-fashioned way, on hands and knees.
• Dance around the house like nobody’s watching (who cares if they are?)
• And my favorite a Dance class right from home!

TIP: Skip parking far from the store for “extra steps”—it’s risky. For safe steps, fill your cart and circle inside the store 2-3 times. Stay smart and protected.

Get creative, find activities you love, and invite family or friends. You’ll soon enjoy the energy and strength fitness brings.

Stay tuned for Part 2, covering the next two fitness components. Let’s get fit together.

Keep Going with Me

Fitness is your path to living fully. Want more tips for your midlife comeback? Check out what’s coming soon on SPBTV-Your Wholistic Living Network. Make sure to get on our launch list and sign up for my newsletter  and listen to Sharise Uncut for more no-BS health and life tips!

1. Builds Strength Without Strain

In my classes, we use small, controlled movements—like pulses and holds—to work your core, legs, and arms. It’s a gentle way to build strength without stressing your joints—you’ll walk away feeling energized, not wiped out.

2. Improves Flexibility and Balance

Those ballet stretches and poses I guide you through? They lengthen your muscles and boost your balance. After a while, you’ll notice everyday activities—like reaching up or standing steady—feels easier.

3. Calms the Mind

My Barre sessions are a mental reset too. I’ll have you focus on breath and rhythm, pulling you into the moment. Stress fades, your mood lifts—it’s a simple way to find some calm.

4. Works for All Levels

You don’t need to be a dancer to join my classes—they’re for everyone. Whether you’re new or seasoned, I’ll meet you where you are and help you grow at your own pace. No pressure, just progress.

5. Fosters Connection

When you join me in person, there’s this great sense of togetherness. We laugh through the tough bits, cheer each other on—it’s more than a workout; it’s a good time.

6. Online Convenience

With my online classes, you can jump in from anywhere—no travel, just a mat, a barre (or sturdy chair) and your schedule. You can even replay them whenever it works for you—perfect for busy days or when you’re on the go.

7. Enhances Posture

I focus on alignment in my classes—lifting your chest, engaging your core. It trains you to stand taller and with more confidence. Trust me, you’ll feel the difference in how you move.

8. Boosts Energy

My Barre classes won’t drain you—they lift you up. The mix of movement and mindfulness gives you a natural energy boost without that burned-out feeling.

My Barre classes are all about nurturing your whole self in a way that’s fun and doable. Want to give them a try? Check out Barre classes (and other wellness classes) on SPBTV, where I bring my dance background to every session. It’s an enjoyable way to feel stronger, steadier, and more balanced—come join me!

Learn more

My response:

Quite honestly. I’m bored as hell with all the flexibility hype (and other tricks of the trade). Now while I do work on my flexibility daily, it’s not my main goal (or one that I want my students to have).

Seeing these kinds of dancer’s pics or videos showing super flexibility or multiple pirouettes – while indeed impressive – makes me always ask, “Yeah, but can they dance?” Can they move and connect with the audience? Can they show emotion? Do they know how to move their body to express the music? Do they connect with other dancers onstage? I may be impressed with a dancer’s technique and extensions for maybe 30 seconds, but if they’ve got nothing else to give – no musicality, no dimensions, no connection and emotion, then you’ve lost me. I’m looking for the nearest exit door. I’d rather leave than have to sit thru a monotonous performance of someone’s high kicks and/or multiple turns. Tell me a story for f**k’s sake. Make me feel something.

The dance world has been too wrapped up in how high you can extend your leg than how beautifully you can present it. I would much rather see a beautifully extended leg at 45 or 90 degrees that has a quality of movement than one at 180 that has no beauty to it.

Keep working on your technique and flexibility, absolutely. It is a lifelong quest. But remember it’s not what makes you an artist. Or what keeps the audience attentive and in their seats.

I’m a list maker, so scheduling is my jam. Every Sunday night, I map out my training for the week ahead. Setting weekly goals gives me focus, keeps me moving forward, and lets me track my progress. It eliminates guesswork and excuses, saving time and mental energy.

This is my 9th week back in dance training after a 4-year break. Seeing progress fuels my drive. Week 1, I struggled with an hour daily; now I’m hitting 6 hours and back on pointe for 2 weeks.

There’ve been highs and lows, doubts, and even tears. Some weeks, I miss parts of my schedule, but even small wins keep me pushing forward. Plan your training, track your gains, and keep going!

Q: “Any tips for improving leaps later in life? I’ve got weak knees and now a weak ankle. Years ago, a physical therapy coach told me to ‘try aerobics or something’ because I wasn’t light on my feet, even though she knew I did ballet. I don’t have dancer genes—just the opposite.”

A: I hear you! When I got back to dance training after years away, my leaps were nonexistent. No strength, no stamina—I could barely manage 16 sautés without gasping, and my feet hardly left the floor. It was rough.

Instead of letting discouragement win (it’s never your ally), I shifted focus from leaps to building strength and endurance at the barre. I worked on my feet, deepening pliés and relevés, speeding up footwork, syncing breath with movement, and strengthening my upper body coordination.

For weak knees and ankles, try ankle exercises with a theraband and build up to 20 relevés on both feet, parallel and turned out. Roll through your feet properly, never forcing turnout—keep knees tracking over your second toe.

I also boosted cardio with tap dancing, which sharpened footwork, hops, and speed while being a blast. For better extensions, I added yoga.

Once my barre work felt solid, I tackled center-floor jumps and was shocked at my progress. My leaps became smoother, higher, and faster.

Focus on nailing your technique at the barre, facing a mirror to check alignment and control. Add a tap class for endurance and fun, plus yoga for flexibility.

When you master the basics, your leaps—and all your dancing—will soar. Don’t let setbacks dim your spark. Progress, even slow, is real. Building technique right sets you up for a lifetime of joyful dancing and leaping.

I did, from a young age. Short, muscular, AND curvy—hit with the tripple whammy—and lacking “perfect” turnout. I felt crushed. I saw tall, lean dancers in class, straight as arrows, and I didn’t belong.

I loathed my muscles, curves, wide shoulders, and “thunder thighs.” People called me that. I thought about quitting for a “real” job. But dancing? On stage, with the music swelling, the joy was electric. I had to keep going—dancers get that.

The audience felt it too. They didn’t critique my turnout or measure my thighs. They craved emotion, story, connection. They cheered my power, presence, and fire. My body type fueled that strength. I grew to love my muscles, my movement, my unique shape.

Too many gifted dancers are pushed out of ballet for not fitting the “ideal” mold. These outdated standards harm dancers’ mental and physical health, set impossible expectations, and rob audiences of talent. The world’s changed—talent shines in all forms. Ballet must evolve to stay alive.

If dance burns in your soul, keep moving! Embrace your unique beauty. You’re not like everyone else, and that’s your gift to the world. Train fiercely. Hone your skills and technique to be your best. But don’t sacrifice your health or dreams for some old-school idea of a dancer’s body.

If talented dancers stood firm, ballet would have to shift. Keep dancing, and redefine what greatness looks like.