The Frogger Game.

Dear Sister,

I want you to live.

Nothing matters more.

And by God, we will dedicate everything we have to serving you - every one of you - this army of do-gooders called GirlTrek.

Someone told you about it. Or you saw us in Honey magazine baaack in the day. (I’m looking at you, Sandria!). Or on The Kelly Clarkson Show. Or a joyful woman with a clipboard in front of Walmart told you what we were doing. “We rallying a million Black women!” Or a campus organizer invited you to “walk and talk” after a tragedy. Or during COVID, God sent you two goofy friends - me and Vicious V - to walk it out learning Black History, Bootcamp style. However you heard about GirlTrek, you are here.

Welcome. 

And you said, 

“Yes, I want to live.” 

Good.

It’s settled.

Pinky?

Pinky. 

We succeeded at mobilizing that million.

Now, we walk.

Not just today.

Not for a fun campaign.

Not even to join a team.

We walk to save our own lives.

Forward forever. Hopeful. Determined. A step-by-step salute to the greatness in our veins. We walk to count our blessings and greet our neighbors. We walk to clear our minds and remember our callings. We walk to sun our souls and breathe our bellies. We walk as resistant to the m oppression of sinking into the smallness of other peoples’ dreams for us. We walk free, brave, whole, and happy, here. We walk to live.

So there it is.

“Less talk. More walk.” …is back.

Take a walk today.

Or tomorrow morning.

It’s “Superhero Saturday” if you’re alone.

“Sisterhood Saturday” if you’re with your crew.

Tag us either way @GirlTrek #GirlTrek

Because starting now,  we are on a journey together. 

Our new mission: TO LIVE

GirlTrek will increase the life expectancy of Black women worldwide by 10 years in 10 years.

Read it again.

Now, read it out loud.

Now raise your hands and see it done.

Tell somebody.

We gotta walk faster than the grim reaper.

And we won’t ask permission to save our own lives.

Y’all, in the last month alone, the most powerful policymakers, corporations, research institutions and actual gazillionaires have leaned in to help us.

Because they know what I know. We are powerful. So when, in exchange, they ask if we can support policy or program X, with two fingers in the air like Celie, I say: “I answer to a million Black women, and if it doesn't increase life expectancy for our families and us, we ain’t doing it.”

Because what we are NOT gon do is die laboring for other people. But what we ARE gon do is get healthy enough and energized to show up at the polls, for our communities, in our gardens, on the trails, at school board meetings - to walk, talk and solve problems together!

First things first. Get healthy.

Before the Ivy League started calling, I researched Google - shoot - the internets are an equalizer!

“Live longer…”

Type. Type. Type.

“Black women…”

Type. Type. Type.

It’s like a game of frogger. 

- Smoke? 5 steps back.

+ Eat plants? 7 steps forward.

- Drink soda or juice? Take 1 back.

+ Drink water? Move 2 forward.

- Sit too much? 4 steps back.

+ Go for a walk? 5 steps forward.

- Work overtime? 2 steps back.

+ Sleep 8 hours? 4 steps forward.

- Go to prison? 3 steps back.

+ Go to therapy? 3 steps forward.

- Live alone? 6 steps back.

+ Join a social group? 4 forward

- Sit at work all day? 3 steps back.

+ Play outside? 2 steps forward.

- Childhood trauma? 3 back.

+ Excellent elder care? 4 forward.

- Live near an MLK Blvd? 3 back.

+ Own land? 5 steps forward.

- Born poor? 7 steps back.

+ Born wealthy? 10 steps forward.

It ain’t just you. There is a whole system of things making us sick. The list goes on. 

But here’s the great news:

Even if we ONLY walked (+5), in social groups (+4), or outside in the healing rays of vitamin D (+2)!!! ..we are ahead of the game. If we add in plant-based diets, it’s a wrap!!! We gon win.

(Y’all, speaking of food, I ate too much salt this week - Ruffles, French onion dip, fried potatoes doused with Slap Yo Mama, and my hips seized up, ankles swoll up around my sock line, and I had heart palpitations. I called my ex-husband, crying like “Am I having a blood clot!? A heart attack? I know the signs; stop playing. He was like, “Maybe.” He’s a doctor. Then he said, “What did you eat?”  We both started laughing.  “You tripping,” he said. I’ma tell you this. My mentor trekker got me on this plant-based life, but all salty-ass plants don’t advance you on that frogger game. LOL. I’ma do better.) 

And that is the point.

WE are going to do better. 

Try something better today. 

Log off.

Go outside.

Drink some water. 

Apologize.

Whatever you got to do!

Oooo! Somebody forward this to Erykah:

 

“Love is on the way,

all I got to say

is it won't let go

You can pray to early May,

fast for 30 days

Still it won't let go, oh

Got a good book and got all in it,

tried a little yoga for a minute

But it won't let go, oh

Tried to turn the sauna up to hotter,

drunk a whole jar of holy water

But it won't let go, oh.”

Try some stuff.

(Shit definitely worked better in that sentence, but I promised y’all your daughters they could read our stuff going forward. Sigh. And before you say it, “Ass” is in The Bible.)

Here’s the plan.

Get it together.

LOL

You got a year and some change to get in the best shape of your life.

I met three Black women in San Antonio last week and they were our sisters. They were like, “We got that email about The Underground Railroad walk.”

I was like, “The Ultimate Freedom Trek?” …cause that’s who I am, Professional Petty.

…and they were like “Yeah!!”

So much joy.

One woman, who was super pretty and runs a doula company - got her own babies - one who is a teenager who was texting, getting on her nerves at dinner, an ex, a new boo, and all of the complexities we have said, “I’m so glad I got 18 months to get my life together! I’m going. I’ll be there!”

My heart leaped. 

I called Vanessa.

“It’s working!”

Excellent.

Y’all all coming.

September 2024. 21-mile relay. Underground Railroad. Harriet will be with us.

Now.

What now?

Well, you got to qualify.

This is going to be The Ironman of Black Girl Healing.

Then you got to get your team to qualify. 

We’ll tell you how at The Harriet House Parties on March 10th. It’s not too late to have your party counted here.

Do that.

Have a Harriet House Party.

(Even if you and your cousin at Waffle House trying to order every vegetable omelet and unsweetened tea you can, Harriet ain’t mad. LOL.) 

Just promise to break bread with a friend - make eye contact, and pledge - to get into the best shape of your life.

We’ll meet you at the victory line.

Over the next 18 months, we’ll do our best to keep you inspired, provide tools, tech, and gear to get you on your way, and mostly to lead the way. 

I’ve challenged the entire GirlTrek staff - that’s 100 Black women and Tanvi, our Indian sister. Shout out to the allies. We don’t discriminate - to do this…

Lead.

Lead the way.

Model the mission.

Get in the best shape of your life now!

THIS year!

I told them to be ready to scout the 21 miles by foot THIS year.

I said.

Don’t talk about it. What?

Be about it!

We can’t hear you.

Show us.

Cynthia Thompson.

Who I know y’all love. 

If the song “I Give Myself Away” was a person…Cynthia organized the whole state of Mississippi and now leads our faith-based work nationally.

When I challenged her to get in the best shape of her life, she said, “You forget Morgan, I’ve already done a marathon.” Then she looked down and shook her head, remembering all those years ago when she prioritized her own health. I think she lost over a hundred pounds.

I caught her mid-memory and said,

“Bet! You’ve got this, Cyn!!”

We got you.

What do you say, Cynthia!?

Are you about to get into marathon shape again?

Good.

We’re watching.

Cheering.

Follow Cynthia’s journey here.

And what you got, Keinika?

Keinika is GirlTrek’s event planner extraordinaire. When I said “best shape,” Keinika started texting me 5 am twilight gym selfies.

“Overachiever” is what I probably texted her back - she’s my sister and we tease.

“Overcomer” is more like it.

…because just a few years ago, Keinika’s valiant father was beaten to death  in the streets of Chicago and she grieves. And she breathes. And she grieves. And she sends her daughter to college. And she grieves. And then kisses her husband goodnight. And grieves. And convinces her baby girl that her short hair is beautiful. And she grieves. And then beats the sun to 24-Hour Fitness to get in the best shape of her life.

She inspires me.

Follow Keinika’s journey here.

Or Christina, who leads GirlTrek’s food justice work. She just had a scary surgery on her thyroid that she shared with us. (Scary is my word, not hers. She’s quite fearless.) I say scary because I know what was baked in that lump in her throat. 5 generations of industrial farming. The early death of countless family members - too young, too much potential - from agrochemicals. A decade of college rebellion. Another decade of guilty sacrifice. Still more of motherhood and wifeydom. So when I make eye contact with Christina tomorrow (we are meeting for a walk in South Carolina, if you’re around, come join us, hit me @MorganTreks on IG), I’m going to ask her, “Christina, What does the best shape of your life even look like?”

What does it look like?

How will you feel?

What are the words that will fill your life?

How will you know?

What will be better?

How can others see it?

What will your family notice?

When will you start?

How will you spend your time?

Will mornings look different?

What about evenings?

How much will it cost?

Who needs to know?

What else do you need?

What will you need to overcome?

How will you celebrate along the way?

When is your first victory date?

Your second?

How can I support you?

These are some of the questions I want to ask Christina tomorrow.

Follow her North Star Journey here.

Oh, that’s good!!

“North Star Journey.”

We are all on them.

To get free.

We will lead the way.

I will be honored to introduce you to all of the women on GirlTrek’s National Team in the upcoming weeks. Until then, you can follow their journeys on social.

All of their handles are here.

So that’s it, my friends…

All the ideas. All the money. All the strategies. Every ounce of energy feels like this cartoon-like cosmic calling of light that is leading to one clear outcome.

Our new mission.

To live.

Sending you all the Love and Light.

We’ve got this,

Morgan (and Vanessa) 

Lacing up now to get some fresh air.

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Year of Yes

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It’s Time To Go!