Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior

Angie Heuser
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  • HEALTH & FITNESS
  • UPDATED BIWEEKLY

Breaking through mental and physical barriers to becoming your best self, living your best life.

  1. 3D AGO

    This Isn’t Enough For Me

    Advocating For Yourself is Self-Respect, Not Entitlement What if the life you want is waiting on the other side of one powerful decision, the decision to advocate for yourself? In this episode of the Be a Warrior Podcast, I dive into something that took me years to truly understand and learn how to practice: speaking up for myself. Advocating for yourself sounds simple, but in reality, it can be incredibly difficult especially when you’re navigating the medical world, recovering from trauma, or learning to live life in a completely new way after an amputation. If you’ve been following along with my recent episodes, you know that my word of the year is “trust.” Trusting the process. Trusting the journey. Trusting that even when things feel uncertain or uncomfortable, there is still growth happening beneath the surface. I’ve placed the word trust all around my home-on my bathroom mirror, near my bed, and in my office, so I see it every single day. It’s a reminder that the goals I’m working toward aren’t short-term. They’re marathon goals that require patience and faith in the process. But this week, I realized something important. Trust and advocacy go hand in hand. As an above-knee amputee, my journey through the medical world has been long and complicated. Before my amputation, I went through years of knee surgeries and saw nearly ten different doctors over a five-year period. In those early years, I did what many of us do, I trusted everything my doctors told me. I assumed they knew best, and I rarely questioned the direction we were taking. Now, to be clear, those doctors truly did their best. My complications were due to hyperscarring and my body’s unique response to surgery, not a lack of effort from the medical team. But what I didn’t realize early on was that trusting the professionals didn’t mean I shouldn’t also trust myself. Learning to advocate for myself took time. It came through experience, frustration, trial and error, and eventually learning to listen to my own body. Because here’s the truth: you know your body better than anyone else. Doctors understand the body in general, but they don’t live in your body. They don’t feel your pain, your discomfort, your limitations, or your goals. That insight only comes from you. This lesson becomes incredibly important when you’re an amputee. One of the most important relationships in an amputee’s life is the one you have with your prosthetist. Your prosthetic leg isn’t just equipment, it’s the tool that allows you to move through the world. And one thing every amputee learns sooner or later is this: if the socket isn’t right, nothing else matters. You can have the most advanced knee or ankle technology available, but if the socket doesn’t fit properly, your mobility will suffer. Your comfort will suffer. Your ability to live your life fully will suffer. That’s why clear communication and persistence are so important. Advocating means taking an active role in improving your life by clearly communicating your needs, your goals, and your concerns. It means explaining where pain occurs, when it happens, and how it affects your movement. Sometimes your prosthetist has to troubleshoot based on what you tell them because they can only observe from the outside. Every amputee is different. Even two people with the same level of amputation will have completely different experiences. Our bodies, our pain tolerance, our lifestyles, and our goals all vary. So if something isn’t working, we can’t be afraid to say it.   My Team of professionals over the years. Take time to talk with them, communicate clearly, don’t settle. My PT’s who helped me prepare for amputation. My Prosthetist who has my back always and knows what I want to accomplish in life.   My plastic surgeon who performed a TMR a year post amputation because the pain was too much!   Sometimes we hesitate because we feel like the professional already tried their best. We don’t want to seem difficult or demanding. But when we settle instead of speaking up, we often end up limiting our own lives. The goal isn’t to take your prosthetic leg off halfway through the day because it hurts too much. The goal is to put it on in the morning and live your life fully until the evening. Advocating for yourself isn’t just about medical care, though. It also applies to the relationships and environments you allow in your life. I often tell my kids that friends come into our lives for seasons and reasons. Some friendships last forever, while others naturally fade as we grow and change. Advocating for yourself means recognizing when a relationship is supportive and when it might be holding you back. That doesn’t mean you abandon people carelessly. Healthy relationships require balance-a give and take. But it’s also okay to acknowledge when something no longer aligns with who you are becoming. During this episode, I share a quote from a book called “The Rise of Me” by Kristina Macura that really resonated with me. One line in particular stood out: “There’s power in saying, this isn’t enough for me.” That statement doesn’t come from entitlement. It comes from self-respect. You are allowed to grow. You are allowed to raise your standards. You are allowed to take up space in your own life. Settling doesn’t make you loyal, it often just makes you smaller than you were meant to be. At the same time, advocacy also requires self-reflection. We have to ask ourselves if we’re giving as much as we’re asking for. Are we supporting the people who support us? Are we maintaining balance in our relationships? Growth isn’t about burning bridges. It’s about recognizing when it’s time to move forward while still honoring the people who walked part of the journey with you. Life as an amputee, and honestly life in general, is rarely comfortable. But growth happens when we challenge ourselves. Whether it’s skiing down a run that scares you, trying something new, or speaking up in a room where you once stayed quiet, progress comes from stepping outside of what feels safe. So wherever you are in your journey right now, I want you to remember this: Knowing you deserve the best isn’t entitlement, it’s self-respect. You are valuable. You are capable. And you are stronger than you think. Advocate for yourself. Raise your standards. Build the team and the life that helps you thrive. Because the life you’re dreaming about isn’t impossible, it simply requires the courage to believe you’re worth it. Have an amazing week ahead, And as always, warriors, Be healthy! Be happy! And most importantly, be YOU!!!!   Much love,

    21 min

  2. MAR 4

    Trust The Process

    What if the very thing holding you back isn’t your body… but your fear? In this week’s episode of Be a Warrior Podcast, I’m coming to you in real time  in the middle of something new, uncomfortable, and humbling. If you’ve been following along, you know last week I talked about life lessons from the ski slopes and how we have to stop looking down at our feet and start looking ahead at what’s coming. That lesson didn’t end on the mountain. It followed me straight into this week. As an above-knee amputee, I’ve learned that one of our earliest survival habits is looking down. When you first get your prosthesis, you watch it constantly. You can’t feel your foot, so you visually confirm it’s there. Every step is deliberate. Every movement is monitored. Adaptive skiing taught me the same lesson when I ski with one leg, my instinct is to look down at my ski to make sure it’s under me. But when you look down, you miss what’s coming at you. Hazards. Forks in the road. The bigger picture. And that’s not just skiing. That’s life. This week, I’m leaning into something I do every year  choosing a word that will guide me. My word for 2026 is trust. And wouldn’t you know it? I was immediately handed an opportunity to live it. A prosthetics company from France, Hopper, reached out and asked me to try their running blade. Now, if you know me, you know I’ve used a running blade before. I even completed a 10K during my first year as an amputee adding socks mid-race as my limb volume shrank, hoping my leg would stay on. That race required grit. It required strength. But above all, it required trust. This new blade, however, is different. It required a different knee a microprocessor knee I’ve never used before. For six years I trusted my Ottobock C-Leg. Last September, I transitioned to the Össur Navi knee because it’s waterproof  I can snorkel with it, travel with it, take it into the ocean. I love how it responds. I trust it. And now? I’m back at square one. New knee. New blade. New mechanics. New fear. New Blade- Trust the Process   Hopper Running Blade Standing between parallel bars in an office, with people watching and cameras recording, I felt that old instinct creep back in. Tight muscles. Hesitation. Looking down. Wanting to be good immediately. Wanting to “perform.” Wanting to prove. But trust doesn’t grow in 30 minutes under fluorescent lights. So I brought the blade home. And here I am walking in it around my house. Stepping outside. Trying to “run,” which currently looks more like a gallop from a newborn deer. It’s awkward. It’s humbling. It’s vulnerable. And it’s exactly where growth happens. Here’s what I’ve realized: when we don’t trust, fear takes over. And fear tightens us up. We don’t relax into movement. We don’t open up. We don’t visualize success we visualize what could go wrong. What if I fall? What if I break my wrist? What if I embarrass myself in public? I’ve fallen before. On sidewalks. In front of cars that didn’t even stop to check on me. I’ve tripped on hikes. I’ve fallen skiing. And every single time, I learned something. Failure is feedback. On my last ski trip, I intentionally chose the harder side of the slope. Why? Because I realized if I wasn’t falling, I probably wasn’t pushing. I did fall exhausted from aggressive turns my muscles weren’t prepared for. And that fall told me exactly what I needed to strengthen. If we never risk failure, we never gather information. And that applies far beyond prosthetics or skiing. It applies to relationships. To careers. To faith. To stepping into something new. Trust requires us to first identify what we’re afraid of. For me, I had to name it: I’m afraid of falling. I’m afraid of being embarrassed. I’m afraid of injury that could set me back. Once I name the fear, I can address it. Once I address it, I can begin building trust.     That’s my call to action for you this week. First: choose a word. A guiding word for your year. Maybe it’s trust. Maybe it’s courage. Maybe it’s surrender. Maybe it’s strength. But choose something intentional. Second: identify where fear is showing up in your life. Where are you tightening up? Where are you looking down instead of forward? If you’re a new amputee and you’re exhausted from thinking through every step — I see you. I remember the mental drain of early prosthetic use. I remember wondering if I’d ever be able to carry laundry without watching my foot. And now? I do it without thinking. But it took time. It took repetition. It took falling. It took lifting my chin. If you’re not wearing your prosthesis because you don’t trust it, the only way through is through. Wear it. Practice in your home. Slow your gait. Gradually lift your eyes forward. You will build that trust, one step at a time. And if your struggle isn’t physical — if it’s relational, emotional, spiritual — the principle is the same. Face the fear. Name it. Then take one small step toward trust. This week, I’m in the middle of it with you. Learning a new knee. Learning a new blade. Learning to open up again after five years of not truly running. I don’t know yet how it will end. But I know this: I won’t build trust by standing still. There is a warrior within you. And warriors don’t avoid fear they walk straight into it with their chin lifted and their eyes forward. So let’s do this together. Choose your word. Face your fear. Trust the process. And until next time, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much love,

    26 min

  3. FEB 25

    Life Lessons From the Ski Slopes

    Facing Fears, Letting Go,  and Breathing   What if the thing you’re most afraid of… is the exact mountain you were meant to ski? Welcome back to Be a Warrior. I’m Angie Heuser — above knee amputee, equine therapy lover, skier, and someone who refuses to live life from the sidelines. And if you’ve been following me the past several weeks, you know we’ve been diving deep into the energy of the Year of the Fire Horse — a year of movement, momentum, fearless expansion, courage, and decisive action. But before the fire horse came the snake. And I can’t stop thinking about that metaphor. The Year of the Snake ended February 16th — a year of shedding. And if you’ve ever seen a snakeskin left behind, you know it’s both fascinating and a little unsettling. Snakes don’t just slip out of their skin like changing clothes. They rub up against rough surfaces. They press into discomfort. Sometimes it takes extra effort around the face or certain tight spots to fully shed what no longer fits. It’s not gentle. And neither is growth. When I think about amputee life — about losing a limb, whether by trauma, illness, or in my case, elective amputation after years of surgeries — there is so much shedding. Shedding fear of the unknown. Shedding anger. Shedding grief. Shedding the identity we once had. And it doesn’t happen smoothly. It happens against the rough edges of life. But once the shedding is done? The new skin is ready to grow. And that’s where the Fire Horse comes in. This year only happens every sixty years — the Horse combined with the element of Fire. It’s bold. It’s fast. It rewards courage. It exposes comfort. It does not tolerate stagnation. And if you’ve built your life around playing small, it’s going to make you very uncomfortable. Which brings me to the ski slopes. If you follow me online, you saw we were just in Park City. I’ve been skiing since I was seventeen — long before amputation. But I’ll tell you something honestly: there isn’t a single day I clip into my ski that I don’t feel fear. Even now. Especially now. Three months after my amputation in 2018, I got back on the slopes. I had already missed five years of skiing due to surgeries. I had told my husband if I didn’t ski that April, I might never do it again. So I did it scared. I did it sick to my stomach. I did it unsure. And here’s what skiing has taught me — lessons that mirror life perfectly. First: the person in front of you has the right of way. On the mountain, it’s your responsibility to avoid the skier ahead of you. What’s behind you? That’s their responsibility. Isn’t that life? If I constantly look behind me — at my past, my trauma, my failures — I lose balance. Literally. With one leg, if I look back, I fall. And metaphorically? Same thing. If I live looking backward, I miss the beauty and the hazards in front of me. That doesn’t mean I ignore the past. I learn from it. I listen. I stay aware. But I don’t let it dictate my line down the mountain. Second: you will face forks in the slope. Left might be safe. Right might be steep. Green or black diamond. Easy or challenging. Comfort or growth. The Fire Horse energy says choose courage. Choose the line that stretches you. And I had that moment on this trip — two blue runs splitting off, one steeper than the other. I heard myself say, “Just go.” So I did. I picked up speed. I carved hard. I pushed myself. And eventually, my leg gave out and I ended up on my butt. Not a dramatic crash — more of a tired surrender.   Take five and reassess your path every now and then   But here’s the thing: I was proud of that fall. Because if I’m not falling occasionally, I’m not pushing hard enough. Growth requires risk. Risk requires vulnerability. And vulnerability sometimes ends with snow in your face. Warriors aren’t built in comfort. They’re built in the steep sections. Third: breathe. One of the biggest lessons my ski instructors taught me after amputation was breathing rhythm. As I carve down the mountain, I exhale into the turn and inhale as I rise. The mountain becomes a rhythm — breathe in, breathe out. When I hold my breath, I tense up. When I tense up, I rely too much on my upper body. When I breathe, I find flow. How often in life do we grit our teeth and forget to breathe? When we breathe through discomfort, we release tension. We think clearly. We stay grounded. Whether you’re walking in a prosthetic, stepping into a hard conversation, or heading into an interview — breathe.     Finally: visualize the run. I watched Olympic skiers at the top of the mountain, eyes closed, moving their bodies as they mentally rehearsed every turn. They had already succeeded in their minds before pushing off. That’s not luck. That’s preparation. If you only visualize falling, you’ll hesitate. If you only picture failure, you’ll create it. But if you visualize walking confidently in your prosthesis… if you visualize that difficult conversation going well… if you see yourself succeeding — you are building neural pathways toward that outcome. Will you still fall sometimes? Yes. But falling isn’t failure. It’s feedback. The Fire Horse doesn’t reward perfection. It rewards courage. It rewards action. It rewards getting uncomfortable. I came home from those mountains thinking about all of you. About the warriors who are afraid to let that bold part of themselves out because it might mean discomfort. It might mean risk. It might mean exposing the places you’ve been playing small. But that’s where grit is forged. That’s where character is polished. That’s where life gets amplified.     So here’s my call to action: Do the thing that scares you this week. Maybe in baby steps. Maybe messy. Maybe imperfect. But do it. If you fall, smile. Ask yourself what you just learned. Visualize the next attempt. Breathe. Adjust your line. And go again. Stop waiting for the perfect mood, the perfect date, the perfect version of yourself. The mountain is here. YOUR mountain! Embrace it, charge forward! The Fire Horse energy is here. And you, warrior, are more capable than you think. Have a be-YOU-tiful week ahead and as always, Be healthy. Be happy. Be YOU!!!   Much love, What’s your “mountain”?

    31 min

  4. FEB 18

    Grab the Reins and Go!

    Moving from Recovery Mode into Momentum Mode Year of the Fire Horse Part 5     There are seasons in life where we heal… and then there are seasons where we’re called to move again. For a while, I was healing. After my revision surgery and AMI procedure, my world slowed down whether I wanted it to or not. New sockets, new pain, scar tissue, relearning movement — it felt like starting over all over again. And just when I began to feel ready to push forward, life filled in the space. Holidays, responsibilities, travel, hosting, caring for others. Suddenly months had passed and I realized something important: I wasn’t stuck because I couldn’t move forward. I was stuck because I had gotten comfortable waiting. This episode is about that moment of realization — the moment you understand that healing can quietly turn into hesitation if you’re not careful. We’ve just stepped into the Year of the Fire Horse, and whether you follow that calendar or not, the symbolism matters. Fire brings energy, intensity, and transformation. The horse represents movement, courage, and momentum. Together, they create a once-in-a-lifetime invitation to stop sitting on the sidelines of your own life. But before we can run forward, we have to shed what we’ve been carrying.     I talked about the Year of the Snake — the year we’re leaving — and how snakes shed their skin. They don’t gently outgrow it. They press themselves against rough surfaces to pull it off. Friction is required for renewal. And honestly… that’s us. Hard seasons, setbacks, medical struggles, emotional weight — those moments aren’t proof life is against us. They’re often the very process that removes the old version of us so a new one can exist. The mistake we make is trying to keep the old skin. We analyze it, revisit it, and sometimes build our identity around it instead of leaving it behind. This year asks something different of us. It asks us to stop waiting for perfect conditions. As amputees especially, waiting becomes normal. We wait for appointments, healing, prosthetics, pain to calm down, energy to return. Waiting becomes a lifestyle. But at some point, waiting stops protecting us and starts limiting us.     So this episode is a challenge: Stop saying “when things get better.” Start asking “what can I do today?” Because growth does not happen inside comfort. Comfort leads to stagnation. Stagnation leads to false alignment — a place where we convince ourselves we’re okay staying where we are, even when our heart knows we’re meant for more. I see it in myself. I’ve been certified in equine therapy for months, yet I hesitated to begin. Not because I couldn’t… but because of the “what ifs.” What if I fail? What if I’m not ready? What if timing isn’t right? But authenticity matters more than preparedness. You grow by doing — not by waiting until fear disappears. The Fire Horse energy is bold. It rewards decisive action, courage, and honesty with yourself. It exposes the places we hide in comfort and invites us to lead our lives instead of postponing them. That doesn’t mean ignoring hard days. It means refusing to let them define every day. If you’re not ready for a big challenge, start smaller. Stop micromanaging everything wrong and start noticing what’s right. Write down blessings. Shift focus. Open your awareness to the parts of life still moving forward around you. Because we are more than our bodies. More than our pain. More than our setbacks. The warrior mindset isn’t pretending life isn’t hard — it’s deciding hardship won’t be the end of your story. This episode is your reminder: You don’t need a new year, a Monday, or perfect timing. You need a decision. Grab the reins. Move forward. Start now. And as always, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much love,   My blessings and the people who keep me going! ♥

    31 min

  5. FEB 11

    Courage, Authenticity, and Decisive Action for Amputees

    Year of the Fire Horse Part 4 Embrace Courage and Move Forward       There comes a moment when life asks you a hard question: Are you ready to stop waiting and start leading your own life? Not tomorrow. Not when things feel easier. But now—right where you are, exactly as you are. That’s the space this episode lives in. And as we stand on the edge of the Year of the Fire Horse, that question feels louder, bolder, and impossible to ignore. As we move closer to February 17th, the official start of the Year of the Fire Horse, I wanted to pause, breathe, and prepare—for myself and for you. Because this year carries a rare combination of energy and power that only comes once every sixty years. And if we’re ready for it, it can change everything. I’ll be honest: I don’t typically follow the Chinese calendar. I’m a Christian, and my faith anchors me. But if you put a horse anywhere near my path, I pay attention. Horses transformed my life after amputation, which is why I pursued my equine therapy certification. I believe deeply in their power—movement, intuition, strength—and I believe this year invites us to embody those same qualities. This isn’t about superstition. It’s about preparation, intention, and courage. Ole Ben, loves quiet time! Me and my girl, Sakari. She is my Soul Horse!   This episode is part of a series designed to help you step into this new year with clarity and confidence. Over the past few weeks, we’ve talked about movement, momentum, fearless expansion, and the shift from waiting to leading. Because waiting—especially as an amputee—can quietly become a habit. We tell ourselves we’ll start when the pain eases, when our body feels better, when life calms down. And while rest is sometimes necessary, waiting can also keep us stuck.   Quiet Energy…   …And silliness!   I speak from experience. I’ve been an amputee for seven years now, and this is season six of the podcast. That first year after my amputation, I set goals and attacked them with everything I had. I was done letting life pass me by. I learned quickly that growth doesn’t happen by sitting back—it happens by stepping forward, even when it’s uncomfortable. This week, we dive into three essential pillars: courage, authenticity, and decisive action. Because dreams without plans stay dreams. Saying “I want to walk better” or “I want to feel stronger” means nothing if we don’t define what that looks like. Decisive action requires clarity. It requires writing things down. Being specific. Holding ourselves accountable.   Finding the determination and taking action despite how you feel is courageous!   For me, that clarity began before my amputation. I created a vision board months before surgery—photos of my family, Bible verses, meaningful quotes, and images of the life I wanted to return to. Skiing. Movement. Strength. That board sat next to my bed for four months, reminding me daily that I am more than my body. That I am more than what was being taken from me. And that belief carried me forward.   My Vision Board But belief alone isn’t enough. Action matters. And action, as an amputee, is complicated. Learning to walk again isn’t just physical—it’s emotional, mental, and exhausting. Trusting a prosthetic leg takes time. Wearing it can feel heavy, claustrophobic, painful. Some days, seven years later, I still struggle. And I share that because authenticity matters. This journey isn’t linear, and pretending otherwise helps no one. One of the tools that helped me most was creating “carrots”—clear motivators that pulled me forward. For me, that came in the form of virtual races. Not because I needed to run, but because I needed a reason to move. Walking, rowing, swimming, chair yoga—movement in any form counts. Since my amputation, I’ve completed over twenty virtual challenges, some as long as 175 miles. Not to compete with anyone else—but to be better than I was yesterday.   SOME of my virtual races- all completed AFTER amputation! My motivation!   That’s the heart of this episode. You are not competing with anyone but yourself. Comparison steals joy. Progress—no matter how small—builds momentum. Some days, progress looks like wearing your leg for two hours instead of none. Some days, it looks like standing instead of sitting. Some days, it looks like crying and still choosing not to quit. Courage doesn’t mean fear disappears. I’m scared sometimes—scared to fall, scared to trust my body, scared to push too far. But courage is choosing to move anyway. Authenticity is honoring the hard days without surrendering to them. And decisive action is committing to your life, even when it’s uncomfortable.       I close this episode with a call to action that’s simple—but powerful. Find a quiet place this week. No distractions. No to-do lists. Breathe. And picture your life twelve months from now. How does your body feel? How do you move? What are you proud of? Then write it down—and work backward to create small steps toward your goals. That’s how transformation happens. The Year of the Fire Horse is not a year to sit back. It’s a year to lead, to grow, to fall and rise again. And you don’t have to do it alone. No matter where you are in your journey—new amputee, seasoned warrior, or someone simply struggling with life—I’m here. Let’s walk this together.   If you are interested in joining me, virtually, on this Year of the Fire Horse challenge you can sign up here Use the discount code JOLLY and receive 30% off your registration!   Women, I have a private group to motivate each other on Facebook. Find me and inquire on how to join!   I look forward to supporting one another this year! Have a beautiful week ahead, And as always, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much love, You are braver than you know!

    32 min

  6. FEB 4

    Stop Waiting, Start Leading

    Using the Energy of the Fire Horse-Part 3     What if the thing holding you back isn’t your circumstances… but your waiting? That’s the question I’m asking myself—and you—in this episode of Be a Warrior. As I move into my seventh year as an above-knee amputee and step into 2026, I feel a shift happening. A deep, unmistakable pull to stop waiting for life to feel easier, cleaner, or more predictable—and instead start leading, exactly where I am. This episode is part three of my five-part series inspired by the Year of the Fire Horse, and if you’ve missed the first two, I highly recommend going back and listening. This series is building intentionally, because growth doesn’t happen in isolation—it happens in layers. In the first episode, I talked about movement, momentum, and fearless expansion. Not fearless in the absence of fear, but fearless in the willingness to move through it. As amputees—and honestly, as humans—we live with a lot of fear. Fear of pain. Fear of falling. Fear of how our bodies will feel tomorrow. Fear of what people see when they look at us. Expansion doesn’t mean fear disappears. It means we don’t let it decide our future. Last week, we explored the bold, passionate energy of the Fire Horse and how powerful energy can work for us—or against us. Energy doesn’t discriminate. If you’re prepared, it can propel you forward faster than you imagined. If you’re unprepared, it can feel overwhelming and destabilizing. This year is not subtle. It’s loud. It’s demanding. And it’s asking us to participate instead of sit on the sidelines. Which brings me to this week’s focus: leading instead of waiting. If you’re not an amputee, let me pull back the curtain for a moment. Amputee life—especially in the early years—is dominated by waiting. Waiting for wounds to heal. Waiting for insurance approvals. Waiting for appointments. Waiting for test sockets. Waiting for remakes. Waiting for your limb to shrink, change, adjust, stabilize. Waiting for your body to feel like it belongs to you again. There can be more time spent waiting than actually living, and that kind of waiting is exhausting. I’ve watched so many people—myself included—get stuck in that space. Not because we’re weak, but because the system trains us to wait. And at some point, that waiting becomes a habit. We tell ourselves, Once this socket fits better… once I heal… once this next thing happens… then I’ll start living. This year is calling us out on that. The Year of the Fire Horse is designed for people who are ready to lead instead of wait. And leadership doesn’t mean having all the answers. It means choosing not to put your life on hold. You can lead from a wheelchair. You can lead while healing. You can lead while waiting on insurance or surgery or the next prosthetic adjustment. Leading means asking yourself: What can I do today, with what I have, where I am? Because sitting and waiting doesn’t just pause your life—it quietly erodes your confidence, your joy, and your sense of purpose. I know that when I wait too long, I stop meeting people. I stop moving my body. I stop feeling good about myself. I start complaining. And that’s not the life I want—and I don’t believe it’s the life you want either. The Fire Horse only comes around once every 60 years. When the energy of fire and horse combine, it’s powerful, fast, and transformative. But everything I’ve read says the positive outcomes come from preparation. From intention. From deciding ahead of time that when the energy hits, you’re ready to ride instead of getting knocked over. For me, that preparation has meant getting quiet, introspective, and honest about what I want my next 12 months to look like. How I want to lead myself. How I want to show up for my family. How I want to live—not someday, but now. And that’s why I’m inviting you into action.     On February 17th, the Fire Horse energy officially begins, and I’m hosting a Year of the Fire Horse Virtual Challenge for women. It’s a 5K, 10K, half marathon, or marathon—done virtually, at your pace, in your way. This isn’t about speed or perfection. It’s about momentum. Accountability. Community. About proving to yourself that you can start before everything feels perfect. To Join the Virtual Challenge click HERE Get 30% of when you use the discount code: JOLLY   Waiting doesn’t have to be your full-time job. This episode is a call to stop postponing your life. To stop telling yourself you’ll start when conditions improve. To recognize that leadership begins the moment you decide to move—even if that movement is small, messy, and imperfect. You don’t need permission to live fully. You don’t need your circumstances to cooperate. You just need to decide that waiting no longer gets to run the show. This is your year to lead. Not tomorrow. Not when it’s easier. Today. I’ll be right here, walking it with you. And as always, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much Love,

    23 min

  7. JAN 28

    Energy-Fast, Bold, and Passionate

    Using Your Momentum to Accomplish Great Things (part 2)     Today I invite you into a deeper conversation about movement, momentum, and what I believe is a powerful energetic shift ahead of us: the Year of the Fire Horse. As an above-knee amputee, a lifelong horse girl, and someone who has learned to rebuild life step by step, this theme resonates with me on every level. The Fire Horse represents bold energy, passion, speed, and expansion—but only if we’re willing to meet it with intention and preparation.     Last week, I challenged you to focus on movement. Not perfection. Not comparison. Just movement—forward motion, wherever you are in your journey. Because movement creates momentum, and momentum opens the door to growth. That growth is what I call fearless expansion. And let me be very clear: fearless expansion doesn’t mean the absence of fear. Fear is always present, especially as an amputee. Every literal step forward requires trust—trust in my prosthesis, trust in my body, and trust in myself. Early on, I couldn’t even imagine carrying laundry with my vision blocked, let alone trusting my leg to land where it needed to. That confidence didn’t come overnight. It came from doing the thing scared, over and over again, until fear loosened its grip.   This ⇑ leads to this ⇓ And that’s why setting goals and staying focused on them matters.     I want to remind you that this journey is never linear. Prosthetic life is full of pauses, setbacks, socket changes, surgeries, and seasons of limbo. There are times when pushing harder simply isn’t possible—and that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re human. I’ve taken years off from pushing my pace, not because I was lazy, but because my body wasn’t ready. And that’s okay. We are not competing with anyone else—especially not the curated versions of people we see online. The only comparison that matters is who you were yesterday. This brings me to the next layer of the Fire Horse energy: boldness, speed, and passion. This is the kind of energy that’s impossible to ignore. It can fuel incredible growth—or become overwhelming if we aren’t grounded. That’s why preparation matters. Before my amputation, I did something that changed everything: I set goals before surgery. Month by month. Not because I knew how things would turn out, but because I didn’t want fear to be my focus. I wanted my eyes on the horizon.   These virtual races kept me focused and helped me get stronger. These medals tell my story, one I am proud of.   Those goals didn’t start big. My first win was simply getting out of the house alone. That one decision led me to adaptive sports, sled hockey, skiing, virtual races, surfing, and eventually completing a 10K with a running blade. None of it happened by accident. Every step required intention, planning, and a willingness to try—even when I wasn’t sure I’d succeed. Virtual races, in particular, saved me. They gave me accountability and something to work toward when motivation was low. I wouldn’t even open the medals until I earned them. On good socket days, I pushed myself. On bad days, I rested. But I kept showing up. And every time I finished something I once thought was impossible, I felt alive again. Capable. Limitless. That’s the power of momentum. It builds confidence. And confidence changes everything. As we approach the Year of the Fire Horse, I want you to pause and ask yourself: What do I truly want to accomplish in the next twelve months? Not what feels “realistic.” Not what others expect of you. What lives in your heart? What lights you up? This energy can either propel you forward or spiral into negativity if you’re unprepared. The difference is mindset and planning.     This week’s call to action builds on last week’s. Keep moving—but now, zoom out. Create a one-year vision. Look at your calendar. Are there trips coming up? Experiences you’ve avoided because of fear, injury, or amputation? Hiking, traveling, trying a new sport, or simply walking confidently in your neighborhood—none of these happen overnight. They require preparation, strength building, and patience. And that preparation starts now. I’ve never jumped blindly into anything. When I returned to skiing, I sought adaptive instruction. I practiced balance, core strength, and walking long before I hit the slopes. Every year, I have to rebuild again. That’s life. The work never truly ends—but neither does the growth. Amputation is not the end of life. It’s a beginning. A reinvention. And the truth is, anything goes. If you try something and it doesn’t work, so what? You tried. You learn. You pivot. You try again. I never surfed before my amputation—and now it’s something I love. You don’t know what’s waiting for you on the other side of fear. This year carries powerful energy. If you open yourself up to it with intention, incredible things can happen. Dream big. Make a plan. Start today—not Monday, not when it feels right. It will never feel perfect. But action creates clarity, and clarity creates momentum. The warrior within you is ready. This is the year to let them out. Use the fire. Harness the momentum. And gallop forward into the life you want—one brave step at a time. Have a beautifully, blessed week and as always, Be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!   Much love,

    24 min

  8. JAN 21

    A Year of Movement, Momentum and Fearless Expansion

    The Year of The Fire Horse Part 1     As I sat down to share this episode, we are in that weird blur between the holidays and the start of the new year—January 21st to be exact. Somehow we’re saying goodbye to January already and I’m still not sure how time is moving this fast. To be honest, I am a little under the weather today. A trip back home to Chicago gifted me more than nostalgia—sniffles and congestion that love to linger. But if there’s anything amputee life has taught me, it’s how to show up anyway. Healing isn’t always linear, progress isn’t always pretty, and sometimes the real strength is simply being here. If you’ve been with me for a while, you already know how excited I am about 2026. This is the Year of the Horse, and I have unapologetically embraced it. Horses are my heart—right alongside my pups—and spending time with them is healing in motion. I was out loving on them earlier that morning, enjoying Arizona sunshine that feels a little too warm for January. (I’m still waiting for winter to show up so I can actually appreciate the desert heat again.) But weather aside, the symbolism of the horse couldn’t align more powerfully with the season I’m in—and the season many of you are in. What makes this year even more rare is that it isn’t just the Year of the Horse. It is the Year of the Fire Horse, a cycle that doesn’t come around often in the Chinese calendar. Fire brings imagery of energy, power, movement, and drive—big, explosive energy that demands expansion. When I learned that, I immediately knew I wanted to infuse that symbolism into our lives this year, especially within the amputee community. Now, if you’re not an amputee, don’t tune out. The beauty of this journey is that the lessons apply to anyone navigating hardship—whether your challenges are physical, medical, emotional, relational, or even professional. Struggle doesn’t discriminate. But neither does growth. I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s resolutions. January feels messy—physically, mentally, and emotionally. We’re recovering from holidays, reorganizing homes, resetting routines, trying to remember what vegetables look like, and wrestling with motivation that hasn’t thawed out yet. I spent those early weeks decluttering my body from holiday eating and drinking, refreshing my home, and re-establishing rhythms that support who I want to be—not just who I’ve been. For me, that looks like eating cleaner, scheduling movement, and taking care of my mind, my leg, my family, and my horses. I’m not a rigid scheduler by nature, but with so many things I love doing, I can’t always choose—and then nothing gets done. So sometimes structure serves us. While reading about the Year of the Fire Horse, five symbolic themes showed up. I decided I’m going to break them down over several episodes and explore how they can shape our growth. Unless something major happens in my own life (because I always speak from personal experience first), we’re riding that theme for a bit. The first Fire Horse theme? Movement, Momentum, and Fearless Expansion. Three words. Three mountains. Three invitations. Let’s start with movement. If you’re an amputee and you’re unhappy with where you’re at—maybe you’re watching others do things you wish you could do—the number one thing I’ll tell you is this: do not compare yourself to anyone else. Amputee life is not one size fits all. Body types, limb levels, insurance coverage, prosthetic technology, pain tolerance, terrain, weather, confidence—all of it changes the picture. Someone in snowy Minnesota isn’t out hiking in January. Someone in Arizona isn’t out walking at 115°F. Our seasons look different literally and figuratively. And that’s okay. But movement matters. In fact, movement is everything. Movement is how we reclaim our bodies. Movement is how we rebuild trust. Movement is how we protect our mental health. Movement is how we remind ourselves we’re alive. Prosthetics don’t move us—we move us. Insurance coverage doesn’t give us grit—we give us grit. And movement isn’t pain-free, effortless, or pretty in the beginning. It’s awkward. It’s exhausting. It’s uncomfortable. And some days it just feels unfair. But movement is life, and life demands movement. Even if you’re not on a prosthetic yet, wheelchairs, crutches, walkers—pushing yourself counts. Motion burns energy, heals the mind, and keeps you connected to your body and your environment. And with movement comes momentum. Momentum isn’t about speed—it’s about direction. It’s about choosing to walk to the end of the driveway today, past the neighbor’s house tomorrow, and maybe around the block next week. Those baby steps are not insignificant. They are data. They are discipline. They are the quiet stacking of strength. I still remember thinking I could walk a mile as soon as I got cleared for my prosthetic. I didn’t make it past three houses. I was disappointed at first, but then I realized something important: I had found my baseline. You cannot grow if you don’t know where you’re starting from. Momentum begins with honesty. Momentum is also how you build trust with your prosthesis—trust up a curb, down a hill, over uneven terrain, and through the hundred tiny adjustments your body makes to learn this new dance. Prosthesis + confidence is earned, not given. And it starts one step at a time. Then comes the third theme: fearless expansion.     Let me be very clear—fearless does not mean the absence of fear. It means facing fear. Every amputee I’ve ever met battles fear. Fear of falling. Fear of looking foolish. Fear of pain. Fear of malfunction. Fear of being judged. Fear of being stared at. Fear of being misunderstood. Fear of being trapped in this new reality forever. Fearless expansion is courage in motion. It’s putting on your leg even when you don’t feel like it. It’s going out in public before your gait feels steady. It’s learning how to trust a piece of machinery that now represents a part of your body. It’s standing back up every time you fall—literally or metaphorically. And here’s the truth: what you do now determines what your future looks like. I’m not worried about being 80 yet—but I know how I move my body today will directly affect that version of me.     I’m wired for action. Consuming content without integration doesn’t create change. So here’s your call to action: If you’re not moving, start. Not a marathon. Not a hike. Not a PR. Just movement. Ask yourself: What do I want my future to look like? Where do I want expansion? What scares me—and am I willing to face it? Maybe your goal is more steps. Maybe it’s longer prosthetic wear time. Maybe it’s a grocery run. Maybe it’s cooking a meal standing up. Maybe it’s just putting the leg on today. Compete only with yesterday’s version of you. If you get stronger, braver, and more resilient by even 1%—you’re winning. And if you need accountability, reach out. DM me. Join me. I’m launching a virtual challenge soon—Year of the Horse themed, of course—and I want you on my team. Because momentum is easier when you’re not doing it alone. So get moving. Build momentum. Expand fearlessly. Face the fire horse energy and ride it into the life you deserve. Get moving, Warriors!   And as always— be Healthy, Be Happy, Be YOU!!!   Much Love,

    27 min
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About

Breaking through mental and physical barriers to becoming your best self, living your best life.

Information

  • Creator
    Angie Heuser
  • Years Active
    2021 - 2026
  • Episodes
    216
  • Rating
    Clean
  • Copyright
    ©2021 Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior Podcasting
  • Show Website
    Be-YOU-tiful Adaptive Warrior