It's Getting Hot in Here! The Great Debate About Working Out While Pregnant

At 32 weeks pregnant, I continue doing pull ups, modifying by lessening the amount of reps and using a kipping technique.


This topic is often debated (heatedly, at times) on Chris' and my fan pages, especially after a picture is posted of me doing some exercise of my own during my pregnancy.

Since I began writing this blog, an even more heated debate arose on a national level over a picture posted of a woman CrossFitting at eight months pregnant. In the articles I read about this topic, I saw responses very similar to those on my own FB fan pages. Some supported the level of activity she was able to carry on through pregnancy and praised her determination to stay healthy -- especially during a time that many see as an easy excuse to not workout. Others blasted this woman, suggesting that she is harming her baby and her body.

What do I think?

First and foremost, I must begin by letting anyone reading this know that no opinion is unsolicited. It's incredibly interesting and informative to me to hear thoughts and experiences that support both sides of this debate.

While I could just start typing away my thoughts, feelings, and beliefs on the subject, I thought it might be more entertaining to start a debate... against myself. After reading up on this debate, my research, and my final thoughts, you can draw your own opinions.

Heidi's Pregnancies #1 and #2 vs. Heidi's Pregnancies #3 and #4. For those that aren't familiar with Chris' and my blended family, we are expecting our fourth child in less than two months. Four pregnancies, four different baby-baking recipes, four totally different experiences.

Pregnancies #1 and #2

I was 23 and 25 during these two pregnancies and deliveries. The prime age for our bodies to procreate. Both of these pregnancies were incredibly similar.

While I began each pregnancy as an active woman (lifted weights/cardio five days a week) and was very healthy according to any doctor, I quickly let the little blue plus sign on the pregnancy test become my excuse for why "I shouldn't work out or do any more than walk." Plus, I was experiencing morning sickness in my first trimester. "Who on earth works out when they are sick?" I would ask myself. Another excuse. I vaguely remembered my doctor advising me to continue exercising and moving at my current levels until my body told me to slow down, but truthfully... I wanted nothing more during that sluggish phase than to act like I never heard him mutter those words to me. I was pregnant, darn it, I deserved a break!

During my second trimester, morning sickness had diminished (both pregnancies) and food all of a sudden was like a drug to me. I couldn't contain the excitement that a piece (or two) of my mom's homemade pie brought me. And you better believe portions were doubled. I was eating for two, everyone knew. "Don't all pregnant women do this?" I would think, as I pushed my doc's advice out of my head. I was convinced my doctor was crazy -- only 300 extra calories a day beginning the second trimester? REALLY? Once again, I ignored advice (and every pregnancy book sharing the same information) so I could do what I thought my body was telling me to -- filling up on crap I was craving (and too much of it) knowing very well these foods didn't fall into the healthy food groups. The result: a TOTALLY sluggish Heidi that wanted nothing more than to lay in bed whenever possible.

I didn't make it to my third trimester without some serious pain. From about halfway through both pregnancies, I had the most incredibly painful hip and lower back problems... to the point where I limped when I walked. I spent nearly every single week (if not twice a week) at the chiropractor or doctor's office trying to figure out what the heck was going wrong. I finally conceded and decided this was just how my body carried babies. I figured my hips were too small for a baby, and that every pregnancy was going to nearly handicap me. My doctor mentioned a few times that regular movement and exercise would help this, but I was convinced he didn't know what he was talking about. I was in too much pain to exercise -- didn't he know?

Swollen feet were no strangers to me. One foot was so swollen, my friends and family joked I had a serious case of "elephantitis" in that foot/ankle. The other, swollen beyond recognition, but nothing like the "elephantitis" foot. In all honesty, this wasn't funny to me. It was painful both physically and emotionally, but I laughed about it to keep from crying. When I asked my doc about it, once again, he suggested regular exercise, walking, and a healthier diet. Yet again, I was convinced he was just a man, and didn't understand. I was going to do this my way.

Delivery time. Both babies made their arrival 10 days early. Luckily, they were both healthy, but like any mom would, I had a mild panic attack feeling like they may not have gotten enough time to bake in Mom's womb.

The delivery itself felt incredibly painful. I didn't feel strong enough to do it without drugs, so opted for an epidural. The experience was awesome, but recovery was not. In the following hours, days, weeks, and months, I felt incredibly fragile, weak and tired. I found my drive to get back to the gym, even after the doctor's approval, was harder than ever.

I vowed I was done with pregnancies -- until I met Chris, that is.

Pregnancies #3 and #4

I'm no spring chicken anymore at 29 and 31, but I went into both of these pregnancies fitter than ever. Almost daily CrossFit, hiking with our Extreme Weight Loss peeps at bootcamp, and running after my other kiddos kept me in tip top shape. I felt GREAT!

Terrified at the thought of my other two pregnancies, I decided to try a different route these times... a route prescribed by doctors, and one I had seen work for many others. I committed to be fit during the babies' gestation periods, and committed to not give into my craving in an unhealthy way. I committed to carry on my exercise, as my doctors mentioned I could (along with nearly every other book and reliable resource), and committed to simply modifying my exercise routines enough to ensure the safety of myself and the baby without giving into my natural inclination to let my pregnancy be an excuse to stop working out. I committed to providing the healthiest environment possible for these babies to grow and develop in, no matter how sick I felt. I was doing pregnancy different, because darn it, my babies and I deserve better!

First trimester brought the textbook sickness and sluggishness, but I didn't let it stop me. Believe me when I say that ALL I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and sleep... but I didn't. I got up each and every day and hiked with our Extreme Weight Loss peeps. I used their hard work as motivation to keep going. If THEY could fight discomfort to make healthy changes in their lives, I could do the same. These first weeks were hard to get through, but I made it through, only sacrificing a little bit of my fitness to make sure my heart rate didn't spike too high (per doctors orders -- I'm listening this time).

Second trimester was what I called my "dream trimester" these two times. Would you believe it -- I didn't experience ANY hip pain, ANY swollen feet or ankles, and ANY fatigue! What? These two pregnancies were both during some of the most stressful times in my life (the passing of my father, and travel/work galore, along with 2-3 other kids to run after and care for); I didn't think that was even possible. But it was my reality, thanks to my continued levels of exercise and healthy eating (adding the doctor-recommended 300 extra calories a day).

I made it to the third trimester with a smile on my face and energy to spare. CrossFitting whenever I get the chance (as some of you may see in posted pics), Warrior Dashing (with care, of course), and running 5ks at any opportunity I get with our EWL peeps. While my levels of intensity and exercise naturally decreased as these pregnancies progressed, the workouts have yet to stop. Yes, even CrossFit.

I have yet to deliver baby #4, but let's talk about the delivery of #3 for now. I made it to D-Day with zero medical issues -- no swelling, no hip problems, no gestational diabetes -- and actually carried #3 10 days BEYOND my due date! That's a whopping 20 days longer than my body wanted to carry babies #1 and #2. Needless to say, I was a happy mama knowing my baby had ample time to grow and develop exactly where he should have been.

Speaking of the delivery... ummm, can I say a breeze? This time epidural-free, and maybe 30 minutes of intense contractions before Baby Cash made his appearance.

Now let's talk about recovery. Also a breeze! I would have never imagined that within the hour of delivery, I was feeling good enough to walk to the bathroom. By the next day, I felt like the pre-pregnant me (but I needed to watch my activity, of course). And within the next few days, I had forgotten my body had even delivered a baby (aside from the pooch that gave the appearance that Baby Cash was still inside). As soon as the doc gave me the okay to work out, I was ready to rock and feeling better than ever.

And the Winner Is...




At 32 weeks pregnant, I continue modifying my workouts. Pictured here, a 75 pounds press, down from my pre-pregnancy 105 pounds press.


Pregnancies #3 and #4, without a shadow of a doubt. It turns out that the doctors, reputable pregnancy sources, and loads of pregnancy books I invested in were right after all. Through my own personal experiences, I have learned that as long as the doctor approves, you can continue working out while pregnant! Not only can you, but you should continue working out while you are pregnant!

Myths of the past told us that exercise is bad for pregnant women, and that doing so can put our babies lives at risk. THIS IS A MYTH! Modern day research has proven to doctors (and those reliable online sources) that exercise is incredibly beneficial to the health of Mommy and Baby. Here are just a few of the many benefits:

• A healthy gestational period for the baby

• Lower risk of gestational diabetes by as much as 27 percent

• Increased chanced of a healthy birth weight baby

• Boosted energy for the expectant mom

• Less back and joint aching

• Better sleep for the expectant mom

• Severely reduced pregnancy discomfort

• Reduced stress levels for the expectant mom

• Improved self-image for expectant mom

• Preparation for childbirth

• Higher likelihood to deliver WITHOUT forceps, C-section, or other intervention

• Shorter labor

• Less leg swelling

• Reduced morning sickness

• Lower risk of preeclampsia (leading cause of premature birth)

As far as judgment on moms that appear too "hard core," there is a great chance we have never walked a day in anyone else's shoes. What may appear as "pushing too hard" to one person may in fact be very modified and scaled-down to another. As well, what may seem as "not enough" to one mom may indeed be "pushing the limits" to another.

The most important thing to is to listen to your doctor's advice. If you are not high-risk and are able to exercise, then go do it! Just a word of caution, you should NEVER increase your level of intensity while you are pregnant. If you didn't CrossFit before you were pregnant, you shouldn't CrossFit while you are pregnant. Be smart, listen to your body, modify as needed, and make a healthier baby!

One final word: Let's try judging less and educating ourselves more on what will indeed be in our own best interest while pregnant.

Kids as Teachers

My belief is that kids are here to be your teachers and not the other way around. I don't mean they are here to be your guru, though I've heard more than a few wise observations from my boys, including the dreaded, "Dad, you seem a bit defensive."

I feel that having these wild cards in my life, these other people who were now my responsibility, provided a tremendous opportunity for self-realization. I thought that if I were to somehow allow their divine plan to unfold without my egoic imprint, then the entire process of raising kids might be infused with more grace and less stress. I thought it possible I might become more patient and kind. I hoped to set a good example, be a good listener and a trusted confidant. I'll always feel humbled and blessed by them, and through them, I think it's possible to open my heart to the divine flow in a whole new way.

I also believe that in some wacky way, kids actually choose their parents and owe their folks a measure of gratitude for hosting them. (Perhaps from the un-manifested world they say, "I'd like my soul to inhabit that fertilized egg." Or better, "I bet that guy can cook!) We feed them, wipe their bottoms, work three shifts at the factory, let's face it -- everyone benefits when kids challenge their status as freeloaders and are otherwise disabused of any misguided notions of victimhood.

"Sorry dude. You picked me."

My friend Arthur wonders if laziness has influenced my thinking in any way, and this argument is not entirely without merit, although I prefer to believe that I've done a nice job being a teacher and motivator over the years and am not a diabolical slacker bent on taking over the world one kid at a time. I've also learned that when you let them, kids can give us a nudge to follow our own path, even one with a few unexpected twists and turns...

In 1983, when I was 23 years old, I began to have this dream: I am walking up a stone path with gigantic jagged mountains in the background. An old lady is on her way down and I asked, "Where are we?" "La-dock" she replies. I continued up the path to a large white building and then the dream ends.

After the third or fourth time having the same dream, I mentioned it to my friend Ivan Ussach, and he was amazed. Ivan knew that Ladakh is a real place in northern India, a place where Tibetan culture and Buddhism has run uninterrupted for nearly a thousand years. I was in shock. I'd figured it was some made-up name. Gibberish. I thought it'd be cool to visit one day.

The dreams stopped after I spoke to Ivan that night and the experience faded from my memory. Then, 17 years later, I was 40 years old, in the throes of cancer treatment, and at a yoga class with my friend Dr. Cynthia Ruggero. We were at Mahmood's house in Boulder, Colo., where he taught every Friday morning and served tea and snacks afterward.

After class I went to use the bathroom, where there was a photograph I instantly recognized as the mountains from my dream. I hadn't thought of Ladakh since Ivan had told me about it, and in typical slacker fashion, had not investigated further. Now suddenly, there they were.

I asked Mahmood if the picture had been taken in Ladakh. He seemed surprised.

"Yes! Have you been there?"

I told him and Cynthia the story of the recurring dream. Though busy with cancer treatment, I vowed to make my way one day to Ladakh.

Seven years later, I was telling the story to my kids, and my son Jackson -- who was about 12 at that time -- became quite interested in the subject. He even did a little research on it and discovered that Ladakh was also referred to as Little Tibet, with active and beautifully preserved Tibetan Buddhist monasteries and culture due to its remoteness and extraordinary good fortune.

Jackson looked for the mountains from my dream and over a period of a few months presented me with picture after picture of mountains and monasteries. Monasteries and mountains. Each time I wanted to say, "Yes, that's it." But I couldn't. Until I saw a picture of Lamayuru -- I instantly recognized the image. It turned out Lamayuru was the oldest monastery in Ladakh, founded by Naropa in 1050. Jackson made me promise to take him, and four months later we were off to India.

Upon our arrival in Ladakh we began visiting a monastery each day, traveling by car and hiking too. It was late May, the wild apricot blossoms of spring were in full force, and the tourists had not yet arrived. It felt as if we had all of Ladakh to ourselves.

Now keep in mind, we had no set itinerary and had not made any advance arrangements (there are a lot of monasteries in Ladakh and we planned to see eight or 10 -- it's a big region). Not much English is spoken in Ladakh, and we just showed up wherever, whenever, saving Lamayuru for the end of our journey. We were greeted at each monastery by a boy monk, typically 10 years old, and given a brief, polite tour, though they seemed mostly bored by our presence.

But at Lamayuru, a Senior Lama met us at the front gates and put white scarves around our necks, a traditional gesture of welcome and respect. He ushered us into the private study of the Head Lama of Ladakh who just happened to be visiting that day and the next. The Head Lama invited us to sit with him in his private office while he recited prayers, served tea and snacks. We were treated like visiting dignitaries while Lamas continually scurried around to fill our cups and bring more food.

Jackson and I exchanged silent, knowing looks with each other. Later that afternoon we were given a grand tour of the monastery by a few of the Lamas. We sat in the Lamas' private meditation room overlooking the Zanskar Mountains. We were invited to relax. We were shown the hidden rooms of the monastery and even viewed Naropa's relics. We were served more food and drink and invited to stay the night.

Our experience at Lamayuru was a stark contrast to our visits to the other monasteries. It felt like coming home. And without Jackson's nudge to go to Ladakh, I might have fallen prey to my own laziness and missed an amazing chapter in my life.

Why It Is Good to Feel Competitive

Being competitive can have an ugly connotation in our society. It has become, in some ways, synonymous with greed, envy and narcissism. But feeling competitive isn't always about climbing the ladder, winning the race or getting ahead. Competitive feelings are completely natural. Moreover, they're unavoidable. Like it or not, we all feel competitive a lot of the time.

Most of us are uncomfortable with our competitiveness. Competitive thoughts are rarely nice. They're usually exaggerated, and often unsettling. And why wouldn't they be? Competing itself is, by nature, fairly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, allowing ourselves to feel our competitive feelings cleanly and directly is not only acceptable, it's actually healthy. Our competitive feelings are an indication of what we want, and acknowledging what we want is key to getting to know ourselves.

Competitive feelings don't discriminate. They can be felt toward distant strangers or our closest friends: that attractive co-worker we've only heard about or our best friend since we were toddlers. However, because these feelings often feel unacceptable to us, we tend to ward them off or disguise them in ways that can be hurtful to ourselves and to others. When we suppress these feelings, we leave them to fester and impact us in a variety of negative ways.

It's important to get comfortable with our competitive feelings. We can do this by recognizing that thoughts and feelings are separate from actions. We can allow ourselves to feel whatever we feel, then choose how we behave. By applying this principle to our competitive feelings, we can avoid their many negative manifestations. These include:

Cynicism -- When we fail to acknowledge our competitive feelings, we are more likely to become cynical. This may sound counterintuitive. Wouldn't putting someone else down or wanting what they have make us more cynical? Actually, competitiveness is very different from cynicism. Cynicism arises when we won't accept our competitive feelings simply for what they are. If, for example, our boss was to acknowledge a coworker in a meeting, we may think, "Wait! I want that recognition. I work just as hard and am worthy of just as much praise." We may turn against our coworker. "What a kiss up! She doesn't even deserve this. She's barely competent. Why am I even trying at this company when idiots like her reap all the rewards?"

When this less-than-pleasant thought process arises, we can take one of two courses. We can accept that we are competitive. We can feel outright that we want acknowledgment in our career. When we let ourselves experience these feelings, fully and directly, in the moment, we can more easily move on. We can even channel these feelings into being more motivated, working harder or setting specific goals for ourselves.

On the flip side, we can distort our competitive feelings into cynicism. We can allow them to well up or fester within us. We can confuse them with our real point of view or turn against the person with whom we feel competitive. Instead of seeing that we simply want what the person is getting and moving on, we can engage in a destructive thought process that negatively colors the world we live in.

Gossip -- When we deny our competitive feelings, we may slowly start to distort those around us through a negative lens. Gossip is a way we attempt to release or relieve our anger or cynicism. Instead of feeling competitive with that very attractive woman who is friendly and confident in her demeanor, we may comment on her "slutty style" or refer to her as a "phony tease." We may even gossip about people close to us, saying one thing to their face and another behind their back.

Our feelings toward a person aren't black or white. In fact, the people we most respect are the people we are bound to feel most competitive with. We can be happy for them and hate them all at the same time -- often for the same thing. We may be thrilled that they just bought their stunning dream house and simultaneously wish that it would get termites. If we face our feelings directly, we can get some relief, even laugh them off. If we don't, we may start taking less respectful actions, maybe calling our friend a "social climber" when he isn't around or criticizing his "materialistic goals" or "superficial interests" to a mutual friend. This commentary or gossip may feel good in the moment, but it leaves us feeling pretty lousy within ourselves.

Self-denial -- One of the worst results of denying our competitive feelings is that it can cause us to reject what we really want in life. Because feelings of desire or jealousy make us uncomfortable, we may pretend that we don't want whatever we once longed for anymore. If someone we had a crush on goes out with someone else or if a job we interviewed for falls through, we can easily turn against ourselves and become self-denying. Instead of thinking, "I really wanted that, and I'm furious that I didn't get it," we might think, "I don't even care. I never really wanted that. I'm not going to put myself out there to embarrass myself again." When we engage in this pattern, we become increasingly passive. Rather than going after what we desire, we avoid it, all in the interest of denying our "unacceptable" competitive feelings.

Jealousy -- Competitive feelings can be full of jealousy. Allowing ourselves to have competitive thoughts will not leave us falling victim to unstoppable fits of envy or suspicion. When we hold back our healthy and natural competitive feelings, we strengthen the negative parts of those feelings -- jealousy included. Instead of building a case against someone, we can face the reality of our feelings and adopt a healthier attitude.

For example, a guy I know recently revealed to me a thought process he went through at a party with his girlfriend. He noticed that she was happily chatting with other people, including a few men throughout the night. At first he thought, "She is totally flirting with my friend. Why does she light up around him? Is she more into him than me? I should just dump her before she makes a fool out of me."

At a certain point, he realized that what he was really feeling was competitive. He wanted her to respond to him the way she was responding to other people at the party. His thinking quickly changed to, "I love when she is fun like this. I want to share that with her." Instead of listening to the voice in his head that told him to pull away and act cold to her, he joined her and engaged in joking around with her. By being lighthearted and fun himself, she was naturally drawn to him, and they were both able to feel closer and happier with each other. If he'd acted on his jealous insecurities, rather than admitting he felt competitive, he would have achieved just the opposite.

Self-hatred -- Another risk of burying our competitive feelings is that we may turn them around and use them to feel bad about ourselves. A straightforward competitive thought like, "I hate that he is so smart and always says the right thing," may turn into an attack toward ourselves like, "You are so stupid. You never know what to say. He is so much more engaging than you." When we turn against our competitive feelings, we turn against ourselves. We feel ashamed of who we are and what we want. Instead of seeking to emulate the people we admire, we simply tear ourselves down in relation to them.

With so many negative manifestations of suppressing our direct competitive feelings, how can we face them more honestly and make sure to use them in healthy ways? First of all, we have to remember that feeling competitive is not about letting these emotions take over or ruminating in negative thoughts. It's about accepting our naturally occurring competitive responses, feeling them fully and moving on. We can accept that we have these feelings a lot of the time. We can even have fun with them, letting ourselves have the nastiest thought possible, then letting that thought go.

Doing this as an exercise can feel clean, healthy and even refreshing. As illustrated by the above examples, when we suppress our competitive feelings, they have a way of seeping into and influencing our behavior. Yet, each time we acknowledge that we have these thoughts, we can consciously choose how we want to act. We can be much more proactive in becoming the best version of ourselves, both accepting ourselves and evolving, as the motivated (and competitive) individuals that we inherently are.

Read more from Dr. Lisa Firestone at PsychAlive.org

For more by Lisa Firestone, click here.

For more on conscious relationships, click here.

Are You Living Your Eulogy or Your Résumé?

"Today I want every American to see how these men and women lived," President Obama said Sunday, eulogizing the 12 men and women killed in the Washington Navy Yard shooting. He spoke of volunteers who made time to give back to their communities, like "Frank Kohler, giving dictionaries to every third-grader in his county," and "Marty Bodrog, leading the children's Bible study at church." There were fathers like Mike Ridgell, "coaching his daughters' softball teams and joining Facebook just to keep up with his girls, one of whom said he was always the cool dad." There were mothers like Mary Francis Knight, "devoted to her daughters ... who had just recently watched with joy as her older daughter got married," and grandparents like John Johnson, "always smiling, giving bear hugs to his 10 grandchildren ... who would have welcomed his 11th grandchild this fall."

Have you noticed that when people die, their eulogies celebrate life very differently from the way we define success in our everyday existence? Eulogies are, in fact, very Third Metric. At HuffPost we've made the Third Metric -- redefining success beyond money and power to include well-being, wisdom and our ability to wonder and to give -- a key editorial focus. But while it's not hard to live a Third Metric life, it's very easy not to. It's easy to let ourselves get consumed by our work. It's easy to use work to let ourselves forget the things and the people that truly sustain us. It's easy to let technology wrap us in a perpetually harried, stressed-out existence. It's easy, in effect, to miss our lives even while we're living them. Until we're no longer living them.

For most of us, our eulogy will be not just the first formal marking down of what our lives were about but the only one. The eulogy is the foundational document of our legacy, of how people remember us, of how we live on in the minds and hearts of others. And it is very telling what you don't hear in eulogies. You almost never hear things like:

"Of course his crowning achievement was when he made senior vice president."

Or:

"What everybody loved most about her was how she ate lunch at her desk. Every day."

Or:

"He was proud that he never made it to one of his kid's Little League games because he always wanted to go over those figures one more time."

Or:

"She didn't have any real friends, but she had 600 Facebook friends, and she dealt with every email in her inbox every night."

Or:

"But he will live on, not in our hearts or memories, because we barely knew him, but in his PowerPoint slides, which were always meticulously prepared."

No matter how much a person spends his or her life burning the candle at both ends, chasing a toxic definition of success and generally missing out on life, the eulogy is always about the other stuff: what they gave, how they connected, how much they meant to the lives of the real people around them, small kindnesses, lifelong passions and what made them laugh.

So the question is: Why do we spend so much time on what our eulogy is not going to be?

"Eulogies aren't résumés," David Brooks wrote in June. "They describe the person's care, wisdom, truthfulness and courage. They describe the million little moral judgments that emanate from that inner region."

And yet we spend so much time and effort and energy on those résumé entries, which are gone as soon our heart stops beating. Even for those who die with amazing résumés, whose lives were synonymous with accomplishment and achievement, their eulogies are mostly about what they did when they weren't achieving and succeeding -- at least by our current, broken definition of success. For example, look at Steve Jobs, a man whose life, at least as the public saw it, was about creating things, things that were, yes, amazing and game-changing, but when his sister, Mona Simpson, rose to memorialize him at his memorial service at Stanford University, that's not what she focused on.

Yes, she talked about his work and his work ethic, but mostly as manifestations of his passions. "Steve worked at what he loved," she said. But what really moved him, what he really loved, was love. "Love was his supreme virtue," she said, "his god of gods." And though yes, he loved his work, he loved his family too:

When [his son] Reed was born, he began gushing and never stopped. He was a physical dad, with each of his children. He fretted over Lisa's boyfriends and Erin's travel and skirt lengths and Eve's safety around the horses she adored.

And then she added this touching image: "None of us who attended Reed's graduation party will ever forget the scene of Reed and Steve slow dancing."

And about his wife: "His abiding love for Laurene sustained him. He believed that love happened all the time, everywhere. In that most important way, Steve was never ironic, never cynical, never pessimistic."

And then there were lines like these, sprinkled throughout:

"Steve was humble."

"Steve liked to keep learning."

"Steve cultivated whimsy."

"With his four children, with his wife, with all of us, Steve had a lot of fun."

"He treasured happiness."

"He was an intensely emotional man."

His sister made sure in her eulogy that we knew that Steve Jobs was a lot more than just the guy who invented the iPhone. He was a brother and a husband and a father who knew the true value of what technology can so easily distract us from. Even if you build an iconic product, even one that lives on, what will be foremost in the minds of the people you care about most will be the memories you built in their lives. In her 1951 novel Memoirs of Hadrian, Marguerite Yourcenar has the Roman emperor meditating on his death: "[I]t seems to me as I write this hardly important to have been emperor."

And Thomas Jefferson's epitaph describes him as "author of the Declaration of American Independence ... and father of the University of Virginia." No mention of the presidency.

What the old adage that we should live every day as our last usually means is that we shouldn't wait until it's our last day on Earth to begin prioritizing the things that really matter.

Anyone with a few smartphones and a full email inbox knows that it's easy to live while not being aware we're living. So a Third Metric life would be one lived in a way that's mindful of what our eulogy will one day be. "I'm always relieved when someone is delivering a eulogy and I realize I'm listening to it," joked George Carlin. We may not be listening to our own eulogy, but we're actually writing it all the time, every day. The question is how much we're giving the eulogizer to work with.

This past summer an obituary of a Seattle woman named Jane Lotter, who died of cancer at 60, went viral. The author of the obit was Lotter herself.

"One of the few advantages of dying from Grade 3, Stage IIIC endometrial cancer, recurrent and metastasized to the liver and abdomen," she wrote, "is that you have time to write your own obituary." After giving a lovely and lively account of her life, she shows that she lived a life with the true definition of success in mind. "My beloved Bob, Tessa, and Riley," she writes. "My beloved friends and family. How precious you all have been to me. Knowing and loving each one of you was the success story of my life."

Just months before the historian Tony Judt died of ALS in 2010, he gave an amazing interview to Terry Gross on NPR's Fresh Air. She asked him about his spiritual beliefs. He replied:

I don't believe in an afterlife. I don't believe in a single or multiple godhead. I respect people who do, but I don't believe it myself. But there's a big "but" which enters in here: I am much more conscious than I ever was, for obvious reasons, of what it will mean to people left behind once I'm dead. It won't mean anything for me, but it will mean a lot to them, and it's important for them, by which I mean my children or my wife or my close friends, that some spirit of me is, in a positive way, present in their lives, in their heads, in their imaginings and so on. So in one curious way I've come to believe in the afterlife as a place where I still have moral responsibilities, just as I do in this life except that I can only exercise them before I get there. Once I get there, it'll be too late. So no god, no organized religion, but a developing sense that there's something bigger than the world we live in, including after we die, and that we have responsibilities in that world.

So whether you believe in an afterlife, as I do, or not, by being fully present in your life and in the lives of those you love, you are creating your own afterlife and writing your own eulogy. It's a valuable lesson, even more so while we have the good fortune of being healthy and having the energy and freedom and lack of impediments to create a life of purpose and meaning.

It shouldn't take a near-death experience to remind us of what we're all going to lose one day. According to Colors magazine, something called "living funeral therapy" is becoming increasingly popular in South Korea, which has the highest suicide rate of developed countries. It can involve actually getting in a coffin and having it nailed shut, to experience a glimpse of the finality and closure of death. One operator sometimes has the participants make a list of the people in their lives who matter to them. One woman said the process made her realize she'd been neglecting her husband. "I feel like I've been reborn," she said. "I want to call my husband, to tell him 'thank you,' and 'sorry.'"

It's an extreme method, and hopefully most of us won't need to be nailed shut inside a coffin to get a sense of what we really value. But the good news is that if you're reading this, there's still time to live up to the best version of your eulogy.

Here are some of my favorite eulogies, courtesy of Alison Nastasi of The Atlantic. Do you have a favorite eulogy, or something in particular you remember from a eulogy you heard? Please use the comments section to share.