A Tribute to Natalie Volz
Natalie was one of those rare people who was simply so much more than words can describe.
She was kind, sensitive, brilliant, determined, fiercely independent, and deeply caring. She had more friends than any of us could possibly count—and somehow, she remembered every one of their birthdays, along with just about every other important date in their lives. Natalie made people feel seen. She asked how you were doing, and she genuinely wanted to know the answer. She made people feel loved and valued simply by being interested in them.
She was a dedicated learner, earning degrees in healthcare and finding a deep sense of purpose in helping others. She spent 12 years at Children’s Hospital Colorado, doing research, much of it focused on pediatric oncology patients. She gave her time, her intelligence, and her heart to helping others.
She was a lifelong distance runner and almost never missed a workout. She was disciplined and strong, but what I loved most about watching her move through the world was that her strength was never just physical.
I had the incredible privilege of training Natalie every Monday and Thursday morning over the past two+ years. While I’ve known her for over a decade, we became close in the past couple of years. Natalie became one of those women in my life who quietly helped guide me toward the woman I aspire to be.
If you ever had the pleasure of training with Natalie, (and many of you did) you knew one thing for certain: she was going to choose the hardest option every single time. In very challenging classes, when I’d give several options for an exercise, Natalie almost always chose the most challenging one. She didn’t need to be pushed to work harder, she pushed herself. She was strong, determined, and completely committed to doing her best. Watching her in those Monday and Thursday morning workouts was such a perfect reflection of who she was in life.
I watched her work hard, push herself and choose the challenging thing over the easier thing, again and again. But what struck me most was the way she approached her body—with respect, discipline, grace, and absolutely no-nonsense determination.
At age 47, in May of 2023, cancer had found its way into Natalie’s healthy body. Not just any cancer, but a rare and vicious metastatic appendiceal cancer—a disease most of us had never even heard of. What followed was a journey of surgeries, rehabilitation, chemotherapy, radiation, countless appointments, difficult treatments, side effects, uncertainty, and the constant need to adjust to whatever came next.
When one treatment stopped working, she faced the next. And through all of it, Natalie continued to show us what resilience looked like.Not the kind of strength that is loud or dramatic, but the quieter kind. The kind that gets up and faces another day. The kind that accepts what is beyond your control while still fighting like hell for the things that matter.The last time Natalie took class with me was in mid-August. I will always be grateful that we had those Monday and Thursday mornings together for as long as we did.
On September 10th, Natalie passed away peacefully, surrounded by her family and held in the love of those closest to her.
I hope she knew how much she taught all of us without ever intending to teach us anything. She taught us about strength, determination and showing up.She taught us that independence and tenderness can exist in the same person.
And she reminded us that true strength isn’t measured by how much weight you can lift, how many miles you can run, or how tough you can be. Sometimes strength is simply getting up and facing another day. Natalie faced more than any person should have had to face. And she did it with courage, dignity, humor, love, and an extraordinary determination to keep living.
Her own wellness business was called Thrive. It is difficult to think of a more perfect word for Natalie.
Natalie was one of those rare people who was simply so much more than words can describe.
She was kind, sensitive, brilliant, determined, fiercely independent, and deeply caring. She had more friends than any of us could possibly count—and somehow, she remembered every one of their birthdays, along with just about every other important date in their lives. Natalie made people feel seen. She asked how you were doing, and she genuinely wanted to know the answer. She made people feel loved and valued simply by being interested in them.
She was a dedicated learner, earning degrees in healthcare and finding a deep sense of purpose in helping others. She spent 12 years at Children’s Hospital Colorado, doing research, much of it focused on pediatric oncology patients. She gave her time, her intelligence, and her heart to helping others.
She was a lifelong distance runner and almost never missed a workout. She was disciplined and strong, but what I loved most about watching her move through the world was that her strength was never just physical.
I had the incredible privilege of training Natalie every Monday and Thursday morning over the past two+ years. While I’ve known her for over a decade, we became close in the past couple of years. Natalie became one of those women in my life who quietly helped guide me toward the woman I aspire to be.
If you ever had the pleasure of training with Natalie, (and many of you did) you knew one thing for certain: she was going to choose the hardest option every single time. In very challenging classes, when I’d give several options for an exercise, Natalie almost always chose the most challenging one. She didn’t need to be pushed to work harder, she pushed herself. She was strong, determined, and completely committed to doing her best. Watching her in those Monday and Thursday morning workouts was such a perfect reflection of who she was in life.
I watched her work hard, push herself and choose the challenging thing over the easier thing, again and again. But what struck me most was the way she approached her body—with respect, discipline, grace, and absolutely no-nonsense determination.
At age 47, in May of 2023, cancer had found its way into Natalie’s healthy body. Not just any cancer, but a rare and vicious metastatic appendiceal cancer—a disease most of us had never even heard of. What followed was a journey of surgeries, rehabilitation, chemotherapy, radiation, countless appointments, difficult treatments, side effects, uncertainty, and the constant need to adjust to whatever came next.
When one treatment stopped working, she faced the next. And through all of it, Natalie continued to show us what resilience looked like.Not the kind of strength that is loud or dramatic, but the quieter kind. The kind that gets up and faces another day. The kind that accepts what is beyond your control while still fighting like hell for the things that matter.The last time Natalie took class with me was in mid-August. I will always be grateful that we had those Monday and Thursday mornings together for as long as we did.
On September 10th, Natalie passed away peacefully, surrounded by her family and held in the love of those closest to her.
I hope she knew how much she taught all of us without ever intending to teach us anything. She taught us about strength, determination and showing up.She taught us that independence and tenderness can exist in the same person.
And she reminded us that true strength isn’t measured by how much weight you can lift, how many miles you can run, or how tough you can be. Sometimes strength is simply getting up and facing another day. Natalie faced more than any person should have had to face. And she did it with courage, dignity, humor, love, and an extraordinary determination to keep living.
Her own wellness business was called Thrive. It is difficult to think of a more perfect word for Natalie.