Inside the 2026 IFCI Alumni Retreat 

Three Days of Learning, Laughter, and Taking Good Care of Ourselves

At the beginning of every Alumni Retreat I tell the attendees that there is only one rule:
Take good care of yourself.

If that means getting up and moving in the middle of a conversation, do it.
If you need a snack, get one.
Take a nap.
Go for a walk along the beach.
Sit in the hot tub.
Try something from the self-care table.
Curl up on the couch while the rest of us work.

Before they even arrived, I told everyone that if they hugged me when they got there and then slept through the entire retreat because that was what their body needed, I would consider the retreat a success.

Because honestly?

It makes no sense to me to hold a retreat for people with fibromyalgia that isn't fibromyalgia-friendly. And yet, you'd be surprised how often that happens.

Coming Together From Around the World

This wasn't IFCI's first alumni retreat.

We've been holding retreats for graduates of the International Fibromyalgia Coaching Institute since 2017, gathering in places around Oregon and Washington over the years. In 2020, we began holding virtual retreats. Any graduate of our Certified Fibromyalgia Advisor^® or Certified Fibromyalgia Coach^® training programs is welcome to attend.

This year, three of my graduates traveled to Seattle from around the world: Clara from Miami, Viktoriia from Türkiye, and Jeannette from Switzerland.

At one point in the retreat, we were all so tired that words became... let's just say, difficult.

English isn't Viktoriia's or Jeannette's first language, so occasionally searching for a word isn't unusual. But this time Clara and I couldn't find our words either.

There we were — four intelligent adult women sitting around a table collectively incapable of speaking English, slowly sounding out "vul-ner-a-bil-i-ty" one syllable at a time.

Maybe we should have gone to bed earlier.
We did not.

Looking Back to Move Forward

We began the retreat not by setting goals, but by looking backward and inward. I'll share the prompts with you here, in case you want to do the exercise too:

• What has changed in the last year?
• What are you proud of?
• What was harder than you expected?
• What's going really well right now?
• What feels unfinished, unsettled, or stuck?
• What are you tolerating? With your health, in your business, in your personal life, from yourself...
• What are you craving more of?
• What do you want less of?
• When the night comes and you think, "That was exactly what I needed," what happened?

Then we told our stories.

Not just our fibromyalgia stories, but the bigger stories of who we are: where our journeys began, what brought us to IFCI, what has changed, the turning points that mattered, what we're proud of,  and what chapter we think we're living in now. Then there was my favorite — who are we outside fibromyalgia and coaching?

I told my story, too. From little Tami who would check out three books from the school library and read them all in a day to being a crazy cat lady with a rocket engineer husband I'm super proud of.

There's No Shortage Of Good Ideas

One of the themes that emerged from our conversations was something I know very well:

Most of us don't have a shortage of good ideas.

The hard part is deciding which ones deserve our limited time, energy, and attention — and which good ideas we're willing to let go.

So I asked everyone to brainstorm all their ideas — both business and personal. All the things they could do. All the things they wanted to do. All the possibilities competing for attention.

Then I walked them through the process I use to choose. What moves me closer to the life I want to live? If I say yes to this, what will I have to say no to? The power of data to tell you the truth about your results.

And finally, I asked everyone to pick one idea to work on. Not ten. One.

Much of the rest of our working time was spent developing those ideas, getting feedback and coaching from the others, and turning ideas into something real.

But working was only one part of the retreat.

What Does A Fibro-Friendly Retreat Actually Look Like?

This may sound silly, but designing a fibro-friendly retreat starts with acknowledging that people with fibromyalgia have bodies.

I know, that sounds absurdly obvious. But we've all attended events where the schedule seems designed around pretending bodies don't exist!

Our working sessions didn't begin until 10 AM. We had a break every two hours. Snacks. Healthy meals. Self-care time.

And in the evenings after dinner? I made sure nothing was scheduled.

There was no pressure to squeeze one more workshop into the day because we'd all traveled so far and needed to "make the most of it."

Instead, we made the most of it by sitting around talking. Or getting in the hot tub. Or going to bed.

Making Self-Care Part Of The Retreat

Every IFCI retreat includes an opportunity to experience some kind of fibromyalgia treatment or self-care modality.

Over the years we've tried a lot of different things, such as: floating, Bowenwork, hyperbaric oxygen therapy, red light therapy, and more.

This year, Cindy Moore of That's the Point Reflexology joined us. Cindy is my personal reflexologist and I wanted everyone to experience the wonderful (and relaxing!) work she does. Each person received a private 45-minute reflexology session.

At the same time one person was having reflexology, someone else had a private one-on-one coaching session with me to get help on anything they wanted — personal, fibromyalgia, business.

And the third person had 45 minutes of free time. That free time was intentional. It wasn't an empty spot in the schedule that needed filling.

Fibro brains and bodies need rest and time to process. So whether it was processing what came up during reflexology or what came up during coaching, rest was one of the activities.

We made the evening even more special by bringing in a private chef to provide a beautiful dinner and dessert overlooking the water.

Because fibromyalgia-friendly doesn't mean clinical.
It doesn't mean boring.
And it certainly doesn't mean giving up everything that makes an experience feel special.

Porpoises, Big Ideas, and Things To Remember

As we got to the end of our final day, we reflected on where we'd been, talked about where we were, and spent time developing what we wanted to take forward.

As part of that, I always close the retreat with a giant brainstorm:
What do we want to remember from this retreat?

We ended up filling six or seven enormous sheets of paper with words and phrases.

Some were profound — like Viktoriia accidentally using the word "borders" instead of "boundaries" and how that shifted our perception of having strong boundaries (borders).

Some were practical — like realizing how having regular meals and snacks can change how you feel.

And some probably wouldn't make much sense to anyone who hadn't been there:

Like "porpoises."
"Introvert with ADHD"
"Don't piss off the person who knows how to kill you." (Hey, we had an army vet in our midst!)

That messy collection of words became its own little record of the weekend — not just what we'd learned, but what we'd experienced together.

At The End, It Felt Different — And So Did We

I've led a lot of retreats — and have attended even more. But something special happened on the last night of this one that I totally wasn't expecting.

Most of my professional life is spent being the person on the other side.

I'm the teacher. The coach. The founder. The author. The person answering the questions, holding the space, thinking about what comes next, and taking care of the thing I've created.

Honestly, it's sometimes lonely being the founder and CEO — and the only person responsible for my business.

That last night, the direction of the care changed. These three women gathered around me, encouraged me, and reminded me of what I've built and what it means — to them and to our community.

They were protective of me in that wonderfully fierce "mama bear" way that good friends can be. For once, I was the person being held up.

Near the end of the evening, as we were all getting ready to head to bed, I looked at the three of them and said:

"I've done a lot of retreats, but at the end, it never felt like this. I don't want to go to bed because as soon as I do, it's over."

We hugged. We cried. It was the perfect ending.

Then, of course, we stayed up talking for another who knows how long. Apparently, we'd learned nothing about bedtime.

Good For Our Bodies, Very Good For Our Hearts And Souls

I believe deeply in the value of education and hard work. I believe in learning new skills, asking better questions, getting coaching, thinking intentionally about what's next, and having people around you who challenge you to grow.

We did all of that. If I'm honest, we'd probably have done all of that back home too.  So, when I think back on this retreat, those won't be the moments I'll remember most.

I'll remember sitting around the table trying — and failing — to come up with perfectly ordinary English words like "vul-ner-a-bil-i-ty."

I'll remember porpoises in the bay outside the window.

I'll remember people curled up on couches and sitting beneath that giant red umbrella.

I'll remember the food.

I'll remember laughter and almost peeing my pants.

I'll remember being cared for — physically and emotionally.

Most importantly, I'll remember what it felt like to be together — and how much we're already looking forward to doing it again.

The 2026 IFCI Alumni Retreat was good for our bodies.

But it was VERY good for our hearts and souls.