How I Got to Where I Am Today
If I’m being honest, I am sometimes in awe at this life that I’ve created for myself. I can look back on specific moments, core memories, where I could have chosen much easier routes or simply just chosen something different where that choice would have significantly impacted where I am in this moment.
I’m a firm believer that you have to know where you want to end in order to make choices that align with that goal. That doesn’t mean that goal can’t change; it only means that there must be a North Star that guides our internal - and external - choices.
What has always been a constant in my life is movement. I abused this in some ways and also got lost in other ways where I thought I was doing the “right” things to look “healthy” or be “healthy.”
In high school and college, I was a sprinter. All I knew was to run fast and to turn left. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I received a full ride scholarship (my very first offer) to Drake University. Short story is that I focused a little less on running and a lot more on partying, which was coupled with my coach making comments about my weight (read: my need to lose weight). I ended up leaving before my four years were up because it no longer felt like the right thing for me.
It was at this point in my life that losing sports meant losing my identity. I was unclear what it meant to find joy in movement. I didn’t understand how people were supposed to look at me, or worse, how I was supposed to look at myself.
Naturally, I turned to long distance running. I say “naturally” because I see many former high-level athletes revert to half-marathons and marathons because it is a rather accessible means to “compete” after college (whether that competition is against others or against oneself). More often than not, you don’t have to qualify. You sign up. You run.
The second layer of this, which I think is not often discussed, is how these athletes don’t know much about taking care of their bodies. We are not taught to intuitively listen. We are asked to play through pain and injury and illness. Much of this is the athlete’s inner desire to excel. Some of this is both silent and spoken expectations.
In high school and college, this abuse to our bodies often translates to a large calorie deficit that is partnered with (1) a calorie increase with foods that are not very nutrient dense or (2) an eating disorder that exacerbates our bodies’ needs for energy.
When sport is gone, this calorie game in a life that no longer involves extreme exercise has us turn to aforementioned long-distance running as the most acceptable means of continuing to push our bodies.
Running, and running’s ability to push our bodies, is a really beautiful thing. My obsession with movement is because I believe that movement, and our ability to do movements that we lie to ourselves and say we can’t do, is a vital source of self-confidence.
I just think that there is a narrative that running is the only way. It’s not. It’s A way.
I ran three marathons after college. I hated all of them. HATED. I ran through pouring rain. I puked. I cried. I wanted to die.
Why am I doing this to myself?!
Meanwhile, I was working a really boring admin job at an insurance agency while waiting tables. I knew that the longer I stayed in the restaurant industry, the more challenging it would be to get out, and my “dream job” was to work at an advertising agency (I blame too many episodes of Mad Men).
I took a massive pay cut by quitting my server gigs and started working full-time in marketing at a second insurance agency. Meanwhile, a friend of mine had been asking me for WEEKS to go to a bootcamp at the park as part of her gym. I finally accepted.
This would go down as being one of - if not the - biggest life-changing choice.
After the bootcamp, I continued to go to this gym. For eight months, a couple of the trainers asked me why I wasn’t a trainer myself.
I want to work at an advertising agency, remember?!
When I really sat down with myself and thought about training, there were three things that I could not deny as being core part of my happiness: people, lifting weights, and positive vibes.
I’m in!
I got my group certification and started training right away. As the weeks and months progressed, I wanted to teach more and be around the people at the gym more. By the time I did get that “dream job” at an advertising agency, I was up to about 8-10 classes a week. I would teach a couple classes in the early mornings, go to work 9-5, and then I’d teach a class or two a couple nights a week.
It was a GRIND. But I loved it. Everything about it.
I also loved the ability to have two separate worlds that overlapped a bit. I started building up a fitness based Instagram and loved connecting with people digitally about my love for fitness as well as being in the gym.
I wrote more about my transition to full-time fitness here, but as you can imagine, I ended up finally quitting that ad agency job.
Newsflash. It was not in fact my dream.
Ten years later, I am now ACTUALLY living my dream. Since my group certification, I’ve now received countless certifications in personal training, kettlebells, mobility, olympic weightlifting, yoga, fitness in menopause, hypertrophy, and more.
I’ve evolved a lot over the years.
I’ve worked with thousands of people on the gym floor and online. What’s the one thing I’ve learned from all of it?
Every body is different. Every one wants their voice to be heard. And movement really can heal.
I know that I am on this planet to help inspire, motivate, and educate on movement.
I will continue to make choices that align with this end goal.
Thanks for being along this journey with me.