Welcome back to The Weight Loss Collab! In this special episode, Dr. Betsy Dovec takes center stage as she shares her inspiring presentation from the Body by Transformation retreat in Orlando. She dives into what it truly means to feel alive—exploring those exhilarating moments when fear and hope collide, and discussing how to move from mere survival to intentional living. Dr. Dovec opens up about her own transformative experiences, from panic attacks to triumphs, and invites us all to identify the times we've felt most alive in our own lives. Whether you're standing on the edge of big change, striving for growth, or searching for more meaning in your day-to-day, this episode is packed with stories, encouragement, and a powerful call to live with intention. Don’t forget: you can catch Dr. Dovec in her fabulous pink dress on our YouTube channel for the full presentation!

She's a doctor and I'm a dietitian and together we are the Weight

Loss collab. And today on the podcast we have a very special

episode. We are bringing to you Dr. Dovec's presentation

from the Body by Transformation retreat for from May of

2026 in Orlando, Florida. We're so excited to

share this. She's going to talk all about how to feel alive,

the moments in her life that have brought her the most exhilaration,

and really trying to think about how to live your best

life and not just let it pass you by, but truly,

really living. So enjoy. We hope that

you get so much from this. If you want to see Dr. Dovik presenting it,

look us up on YouTube. Just search the weight loss collab and you'll find

it. You can see her in her glorious pink sparkle dress.

We'll see you next time. Bye. Welcome to the Body by

Transformation retreat. I have had a

panic attack two times in my life. The

first time was on Friday,

October 2, 2009

30pm Eastern Standard Time. It was the night

before my wedding. And I know that that time is pretty precise.

My heart was racing, I was shaking, my

pupils were dilated. I could not catch my

breath. And I was just staring

up at the ceiling thinking, I can do

this. On the outside, it probably looked okay, maybe even

composed, I don't know, calm. But internally, everything was

so loud, so fast. I felt chaotic.

It was this surge of adrenaline that completely took

over my body. It was excitement and fear

colliding together at the same time. And I felt certain,

of course, about the big A. But I also felt

completely out of control. I couldn't sleep. I just felt

hyper aware, overstimulated and just overwhelmed.

And somehow I. I also felt alive.

It's a feeling I hear described almost universally

among my bariatric patients as well. The moment

right before everything changes, when the

fear of the unknown starts to compete with the hope for something better.

For some, that fear wins. They step back. I can't do this. Not right now.

But others, more often, you lean in, you move

forward anyway. Not because you're not scared,

but because you are. Because

somewhere inside of that discomfort is just the hope and the

possibility for a different life. Aaron,

my husband now for over 16 years, was the opposite of me

that night. He was very calm and collected. He was confident. I mean,

he was getting me. But he was certain in a way

that looked almost effortless. And some of you are like that.

You look into the unknown with just peace that you're gonna Trust yourself and go

all in. And I admire that when I'm looking at you in the pre op

area. And yet, two decades later, what I will tell you this.

From that moment, I am so proud of it. Not because

of what I just did for myself or the decision that I made, but I

was choosing to step fully into a situation. I didn't

know what was gonna happen. It was unpredictable, but I didn't

realize that it could be so meaningful in all the best ways. And that's what

you do all the time, too. And I know I'm not,

obviously the only one that's had moments like that. Some of

you have had your own versions of lying and looking up at the

ceiling. Maybe it was the ceiling of an operating room. You

could hear the bright lights, the cold air, the sound of machines.

The moment where everything slows down and also

seems to speed up all at the same time, where your heart is

racing, your mind is spinning. You think, let me go out of body during

this moment just so I can get through it as Dr. Fitzsimmons brings down

that oxygen mask on your face. Pick out a good

dream. We'll see you on the other side. And still you

stayed. You leaned in. You felt it all, and you didn't run.

That's powerful. That's brave. That takes so much courage.

These moments aren't isolated. I so wish that you had one bad moment in your

life and then that easy button was activated and you never have one again.

Clearly, life doesn't work like that. It just keeps bringing you

back to the edge in different ways, over and over

and over again. The second time I had a

panic attack was about a month ago. I got a long stretch without

one, and now we turn around, and I find

myself literally on all fours scaling the

side of a mountain. I had dirt under my fingernails as I was

trying to make it up on a hike. I'm questioning every

moment and decision I made that led me up to this moment. We

decided we were going to take a family hike. We're going to go to see

the iconic Devil's Bridge. This is in Sedona, Arizona. It

sounded simple. It was supposed to be two miles in each direction.

Moderately difficult, relatively flat. We packed water,

sunscreen, looked at the trailhead map, started walking, set

my watch to outdoor hike. Okay, let's go. The

first part was easy. Truly, it was flat. It was pretty

casual. Then it started to elevate. And

along the way, I saw people of different ages

and different body size and clearly different fitness levels. And some were

really beet red. And they were struggling, and they were out of breath, and they

were exhausted. And I remember thinking, why are they doing this?

And as I started to get out of breath, I thought, why am I. Why

am I doing this? Why am I here right now? My two oldest

kids, Adrian and Ev, they were in front of me, and they were having a

good old time running. And now I'm, like, lightly jogging up this mountain,

trying to keep up with them. The problem was, as I moved forward,

Erin and our youngest, Liv, they were falling behind. So now there's a pretty

big gap between us. And what was more important than just

the separation from them was they had the water okay.

And so I was really struggling. So now two miles passed.

We were promised to be done at this point. Now it's three, now it's four.

They are getting upset. And this moderately difficult hike took

on a whole different level all at once. The terrain turned

very steep. People, including myself, were now you

had to climb up on all fours. Or maybe I was just being dramatic, but

I had to do that. My kids were crying. They were super, super

thirsty. I went from frustrated to angry at Aaron,

too, irrationally scared about what could happen.

I started thinking that I was going to tumble down this

hill and I was going to slip and fall, and any misstep, my ankle would

give out. I was having all these irrational thoughts. I thought for sure

they were going to see my body at the bottom of these red rocks. My

heart was racing. My mouth was dry. I couldn't breathe. I didn't know if it

was the altitude. I didn't know what the problem was, but I felt

anxiety. I felt overwhelmed. And. And it was coming on really fast.

And then we reached the top, and there it was.

Devil's Bridge is a skinny, little, narrow part of land right there

amongst this beautiful expanse of those red mountains. It

looked almost unbelievable, unreal, surreal. It looked like

a screensaver, like a place you weren't quite supposed to

be. It was so impressive, so triumphant, unfilteredly

perfect. But what you didn't see, of course, when I took

the pictures and posted them on Instagram, was that dust was the

dirt caked on my body, was the dirt in my nose and my mouth and

random orifices that it shouldn't have been, and you're just

completely covered in the climb. It's all beauty when we're up

there smiling, but it's none of the struggle that it took to get there.

And as I stood there looking out the view. How could something

so chaotic and so uncomfortable, almost feel

so worth it, all at the same time. And so the question

came back, why are we doing this?

I, we, you, me, all of

us, we just want to feel alive. Through those

moments that shake us, wake us, challenge us, change us.

Through breakdowns that lead to breakthroughs, there's an

undeniable intensity and heightened awareness.

That feeling when your nervous system is fully lit up

and your senses sharpen and your thoughts speed up and your body is

alert, everything is louder, crisper, you're more present,

you are in it. What are those

moments in your life that you can remember with that clarity, with that

alertness, with that heightened energy where you felt

alive? In our workbooks, we're going to be referring to these throughout the day.

There's the agenda, but there's also a space to really think

about that question. What were the specifics of when

you felt most alive? What was it like?

What were the circumstances? Was it panic? I'm awake, I'm alert, my fight

or flight is in. Or was it something else? Because through that

discomfort, there is a clarity. Through fear, there's growth. Of course. And

over the course of my career, I've had this unbelievable

opportunity to have a front row seat to that entire process.

I have done over 10,000 consultations.

I've had 10,000. Thank you.

I have had 10,000 conversations, probably with almost every single

person in this room in one way, shape or form. And what I have

realized in those 10,000 conversations, that people are still standing on

the edge of change. People come in with different

stories, different bodies, different circumstances,

different goals. And on the surface, it does look different

every single time. But when you strip it all away,

when you remove the details, the numbers, the logistics, the

justifications, the why is actually the same.

People want to feel alive. That's why you did this. That's why you're here

today. You want to feel alive. You don't want to just

exist. You don't want to just get through the day, just manage.

You want to feel that energy. You want to feel confidence. You want to feel

that possibility. You want to be present

in your own life instead of just watching it pass you by.

Let me ask you again, what were those moments when you felt

most alive? There are the big milestone moments, those

rare and just unforgettable moments where the feeling of aliveness is

so overwhelming again, it borders on surreal.

And guess what? Two of you in this room

today are going to have the best day of your life,

because two of you are going to walk out of here with a Free

bariatric surgery or a free cosmetic

skin removal surgery. And, gosh, that is going to be one of

those unforgettable moments when, you know, in that moment, your life is forevermore

transformed. I felt that incredible

surge when I gave birth to my first daughter, Adrienne.

I remember the exact moment she was born. It was this

immediate rush of euphoria, elation,

just sheer pride. I had never experienced that before.

It was this deep, primal recognition of what I had just done.

And I remember being wheeled to labor and delivery, and I was holding her.

And everybody that passed me by, I was expecting them to congratulate

me for what I had just done. Like, do you get that I just birthed

a human? Like, this is a huge deal. And I know logically,

billions of women have done this before, but in that moment, it

was extraordinary for me. It was so powerful. It felt

like the highest high I ever had, which is probably why I have three

kids. And I just wanted to keep going. But insert Aaron again.

I wasn't tired, and I wasn't thinking ahead, and I wasn't analyzing everything,

and I wasn't, you know, overthinking it. I was just

completely and undeniably alive in that moment. It was

so beautiful. I asked my kids very

quickly one day, hey, I'm writing this talk. What do you guys think? When was

the time you felt most alive? And all of us, as adults, we're always

overly analyzing and thinking and thinking and thinking. What do we think? My

kids, milliseconds. They had an answer. Adrienne, she

goes first. She told me she felt most alive when she is swimming. When she

is underwater, she feels quiet and peaceful and happy all at once.

Okay. My son, Evan, he said

that he felt most alive when he completed and put the last

lego on a 10,100 lego set of the Eiffel

Tower, which was the second one that. That's biggest one that's

ever been done. That was my most liked story that I've ever put on

Instagram. So some of you in this room had seen it. Like, wow, that is

impressive. It was much taller than him. And it wasn't just because he

finished it, but it was because it was just such an impressive

accomplishment. And then my youngest, Liv, she

said that she felt alive a whole summer previously when we rode

a ride in the Bahamas. She just loved the wind in her face,

and she felt she liked laughing and giggling in that moment.

Accomplishment, peace, joy,

freedom. I feel most

alive when I'm laughing so hard that no sound is coming out. And I'm

just trying to control myself. I feel alive at concerts.

I love concerts because I feel like there are thousands of people singing in

unison and it's just these few minutes where nothing else exists except

for that shared energy. Specifically,

2009 was a great year because in March of 2009, I saw

Britney Spears circus tour, comeback tour, when she descended from

the audience with her. From the ceiling with her top hat. And

I just felt that she was going to put on a show and it was

just truly electric. I felt alive when I was a

sophomore in high school, I won the Ohio Valley Athletic Conference 100

breasts I wasn't supposed to win. Another

senior actually named Annette Perkins from Brook High School

was. It came down to a tenth of a second of photo

finish. And I can still feel that joy and almost disbelief

30 years later. You might feel alive simply

when you're fed or rested or hydrated. You might feel alive when

you feel good in your body. You feel confident, you feel comfortable in your environment

when the temperature is just right, when you're surrounded by the right people

in the right place at the right time,

when you feel safe, when you feel financially stable,

when you feel you can freely speak, express yourself, feel

that you can speak without fear of judgment or retaliation,

when you're in your flow, when you're creative and

grounded and connected, when you're healthy, wealthy and free,

alive. It happens when you let yourself feel.

But most of us are not actually living in a way that

allows us to feel alive. We are operating on autopilot,

myself included. We are moving from one obligation to the

next, one task to the next, one expectation to the next. We're just

trying to survive and we're doing it pretty efficiently. From all outside, she got it

all going on. But we are not experiencing our lives.

And when that becomes your default, the pendulum doesn't just come to neutral. It

swings from moments of alive to feeling dull,

disconnected, flat. Like the volume has

gone from vibrant to just down. It's

dim, there's no color. We know exactly what it feels like

in here to not feel alive. That's an easy one to write.

I felt alive when I was giving birth. I did not feel alive when I

was pregnant. I remember looking at myself in the mirror. And a lot of you

describe this as well as not recognizing yourself.

My eyes looked empty. The feeling that I could not

get back to myself. And then postpartum, and then sleep

deprivation and then hunger. Those moments of loss and grief and

shame and blame and everything that just depletes you of who you think you are.

You, you're just trying to function. Screw being alive. You are just trying to make

it. You're just trying to get to the next hour, the next responsibility. There's no

presence there. There's no expansion, there's no aliveness.

There's just survival. And I see this in myself,

but I also see it in the women on my team. Every single

day, my entire team. You guys know this. You're a

product of this. They are these incredibly beautiful, brilliant,

driven women. And I've had the front row seats

of their lives. I watch them show up in seasons where

behind the scenes they're exhausted, they're stretched thin, they're

carrying things that nobody else sees. I see them navigating

motherhood and relationships and breakups and expectations

and pressure, loss, self doubt

and cancer.

I see the quiet moments where their light feels a little dimmer,

where they're just trying to hold it together and move forward. Don't we all do

that? And I see it in you too. And I hear it in

your stories. I feel in the way that you

describe what you've been through. The frustration, the

exhaustion, the disappointment, and just the hope that this

time I'm going to trust you, that you're going to make this different for me.

And in this room, there's a lot of shared understanding of what it feels like

to carry something like that for such a long period of time. And

what is so striking to me is that sometimes when you're in it, you don't

even realize that you're in a hard season. You think this is just how it

is. But I can see something else. I see this is a season,

it's not your destination. And I can see that what feels heavy right now will

be lighter in no time. And I can see you becoming

stronger and more grounded and more yourself. And I can see that

you're going to be a lot brighter soon. Even when

you can't see it yet. My crystal ball is never wrong.

You don't have to wait till everything feels lighter, easier, better. You

get to decide how you show up in it. And that

decision is where intention begins. Because intention is

not waiting for the perfect moments. It's not choosing ahead of time, how

you're going to meet the moment you are in. And what you're going to do

is you're going to choose it, you're going to visualize it, you're going to imagine

it, you're going to manifest it, you're going to focus on it, you're going to

Create it. You're going to make it a reality. And where you direct your time

and your energy and your attention, that is your intention.

It is asking yourself at the start of the day or even in the middle

of the chaos, what is my intention

right now? Is it to be present? Is it to

have and feel gratitude? Is it to connect? Is

it to push yourself? Is it to slow down? Is it

to stop doom scrolling? Is it to actually experience

this moment instead of rushing through it? What

are your intentions to make sure you feel alive?

This afternoon, every one of you is going to tell me what those are

right here on this stage. Don't panic. We're going to do a little exercise

where I want you to be thinking about what your intention

is so that you feel alive. Because when you live without intention,

yes, you're defaulting to autopilot. And with autopilot

aliveness, it disappears. It's where the days blur

together. You wake up, you look up. Where the time go. It's when you're physically

present, but mentally somewhere else entirely.

But when you live with intention, even the smallest moments become

meaningful. Even imperfect moments can be full. And even in

exhaustion and uncertainty and discomfort, there's always something

deeper you can access. Because at some point,

here we are, we're back to the edge. Maybe it's the

edge of decision. Maybe it's the edge of a mountain,

literally. Maybe it's the edge of being something

that you never thought you could be before. You look

at the climb, you look back at the dust, the struggle, the moments that you

thought you couldn't keep going, and you look what's in front of you

and you realize it was never about the top. It was always about

choosing to climb. It was about choosing to feel.

And it was about choosing to be undeniably,

unapologetically alive. Thank

you,

Sam.