Whenever I hear the comment, “You have, like, no body fat,” I cringe a little inside…
The “nice girl” in me awkwardly says, “Thanks,” knowing it’s meant to be a compliment, but the grown-ass woman in me wants to say, “Of course I have body fat! If I didn’t, I’d be dead!”
You can’t see much on my arms right now, but it’s because I’m genetically pear-shaped, so it prefers to live on my thighs more than on my arms and abs.
In order to live the healthiest version of themselves, most people are looking to lose fat, but some people actually need to gain some fat to keep their body functioning and their hormones happy. It’s all about balance.
AS LITTLE BODY FAT AS POSSIBLE IS NOT A HEALTHY GOAL!
If I hadn’t have kept enough fat on my during my 2016 race season, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my period and get pregnant one month after the long, grueling Spartan World Championship, and I cannot imagine my life without our precious Taylor.
In my decade as a personal trainer, rather than focus on a particular weight or body fat percentage, I encouraged people to work out using the peaks and valleys method (hard day followed by easy day), eat healthy 80% of the time, and try not to overthink or over analyze anything.
If people work out consistently and eat well in general, the body will find a healthy composition for it’s unique self, allowing people to enjoy their lives rather than constantly fight their body to look different.
Another comment I get sometimes is, “I’m just not that disciplined.”
My answer to that is usually “Oh, exercise is my therapy,” or “I get paid to work out.”
I realize I could just say “thanks” and leave it at that, but when I see other people, usually women, looking at me with less with a smile of admiration and more of a critiquing frown on their own body, I feel compelled to give some context to my body, and acknowledge that I got there originally because I had a stressful childhood and running (as opposed to singing or art) happened to be my therapy of choice.
Couple that with some natural talent and good coaches and I started getting rewarded for it (high-fives! hugs! scholarship!), so I doubled-down on my dedication and eventually became a professional athlete.
Now I literally get paid to work out, so even though yes, it still takes a lot of discipline, it’s not the level of discipline required from someone with an 8-10 hour job, plus a family to take care of and/or a social life to navigate on top of trying to find time and energy to work out well.
In the same way that it would be silly and stressful of me to compare my mediocre cooking to a professional chef, I encourage anyone looking at photos of professional athletes to remember that not only do we get paid to work out, but the photos you see of us are generally action shots with muscles engaged. (Sometimes I’ll look at a photo of me swinging on an obstacle and think, “My back does not look like that when I look at it in the mirror.”)
And most important, we all have different genes and body shapes, with no one particular size/shape defining what is healthy or fit.
I’ve spent just enough time on the comparison train to know it doesn’t make me happy, so I’ll take my defined arms/abs + thighs that sometimes rub together while others can have their apple-shape with defined legs + love handles, and still others, their whole-body curves, and we can all dance away to the beat of our own drums.
(I’d like to give my friends in eating disorder recovery a huge shout-out for opening up about their experiences and working to change the conversation around body image. One of my biggest anxieties about having a daughter revolved around the fear of watching her potentially get sucked into society’s trap of judging her self-worth on what her body looks like, and I feel more encouraged each day that she can be free to love herself regarding of what the scale says. Thank you, Amelia, Bailey, Cali, Nell, and Rea!)
Let’s be real – many of us stay fit because we love to race and race well. Take those races away and it can be tough to maintain motivation. I applaud people who can push themselves to high levels of fitness without racing – digging deep at the gym or on a trail just for the pure satisfaction of it. I’m married to one of those – my husband, Tim, can SPRINT on the stepmill for 30-45 minutes, sweating profusely, for no reason other than to feel fit, vital, healthy, and alive.
Unfortunately, that’s not me.
I need start lines, big challenges, competitors to push me, and people to cheer me on. Maybe it’s because Tim, is the self-confident oldest of a small, normal, loving, attentive family, and feels he has nothing to prove, whereas I’m the 8th of a big family of nine kids – the youngest girl – stilling fighting for attention and respect even as I (gulp) push 40.
If anyone out there can relate to my experience, going through a long period without racing is tough. We miss the thrill of it, the accountability of it, the celebration after it. I’ve been there – while pregnant, I was fortunate enough to be able run throughout my pregnancy BUT being able to run without the ability to race (at least not all-out) also meant I had to find motivation to get my me and my belly out of bed and onto the track or trails with no races to try win or no personal records to attempt to set.
A few ideas for getting through this weird time:
1. Compete with yourself
Create personal benchmarks, e.j. fastest mile time or max pushups
Do virtual races/charity challenges
2. Compete with others
Chase local Strava segments and FKTs (Fastest Known Times)
Go for a creative Guinness World Record
Enlist a friend in some friendly head-to-head competition
3. Take a break from competing
Do whatever you want to, including something new, with no agenda
Work on mental game, flexibility/mobility/yoga
Take an extra long off-season and focus on other priorities, guilt-free
Whichever you choose – good luck, hang in there, and have fun!
This year taught me important life lessons: believe in yourself, be patient and persistent, forgive, empower yourself, and above all, never give up on yourself and your goals.
How did I learn them? The hard way of course…
One year ago today, I almost gave up.
After a distressing phone call from a long-time sponsor (a beet juice company) telling me they weren’t going to support me anymore because they “didn’t know how to market me” or that I, as I interpreted it, “wasn’t good enough anymore, since becoming a mom,” I realized they didn’t believe in me. They didn’t believe that I still had potential or fire, that anyone would still bother paying attention to who I represented and what I had to say.
I let anxiety get the best of me, turning that week into my worst Christmas ever. I stressed over every penny. We didn’t get a Christmas tree or gifts; Santa didn’t come for Taylor, which made me feel like a bad mom, a failure.
I felt the wolves of depression gnawing at my heels again, trying to pull me back into the woods, after I had finally clawed my way out of the depths of postpartum depression six months prior.
Amidst doubt and frustration, I also felt mad. The people at the beet juice company knew I was my family’s sole income earner while Tim stayed at home with Taylor, searching for a good post-cancer career after our move to Colorado, yet they’d waited weeks before getting back to me about plans for the following year, giving me no heads-up things would suddenly change after 5 years of working together. I felt angry because I knew they had been off enjoying a company holiday party without the courtesy of letting me know I was getting canned while I still had time to find another sponsor before the end of the year.
With no holiday plans or travel, I worked out HARD that week, taking my frustration out on wind sprints and ball slams.
But then despite doing nearly nothing to celebrate, a bit of Christmas magic must’ve found its way into my sad, angry heart, and I suddenly realized the only person who has to believe in me….is me.
So I chose to believe in myself, and that was all that mattered.
The good news? American Ninja Warrior, CLIF Bar (a loyal longtime sponsor), and, eventually, two awesome new sponsors, PurePower, and MitoQ, all chose to believe in me, too, and had no problem finding ways to market this mama, from a feature during prime-time NBC to a full-page print article in the New Zealand Herald.
As for fire, I used it to fuel my training, which propelled me to a podium spot at the first big Spartan Series two months later and secure a fourth place in the Series Championship standings.
They say “holding onto resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die,” so I let go of all anger and resentment, and choosing to focus on gratitude instead – for Tim and our playful toddler, for health, for sunsets, for hope.
They say “when one door closes, another one opens”…
Today, exactly one year later, I am happy and grateful to report that I just had the exact opposite experience: the fantastic CMO of MitoQ just wrote to tell me that everyone there values my partnership, and they are requesting to expand it next year!
If I hadn’t been fired by the beet juice company, which had expanded into supplements, I wouldn’t have been able to partner with MitoQ, and I would not have this fantastic offer before me, which will allow me to train better next year.
And even though at the time it was a tough pill to swallow, I’m also grateful for the lessons I learned, making me a stronger, softer, more grateful and resilient person.
How do you stay motivated? What’s your “why”? Why do you get out of bed and take on hard challenges? Why do you work to be your best? 🔥
One reason I crawl through mud and flip heavy tires is to prepare myself for when life throws mud in my face and when roadblocks try to stop me from forward progress…
Racing helps me establish good habits, like thinking on my feet, and choosing to get gritty when things go wrong (as they often do, like when I got post-partum depression or when Tim got cancer).
Can you relate?
I’m feeling grateful after finishing the last race of the Spartan U.S. National Series in fourth, bumping my fifth place ranking to fourth. As someone who was still pregnant two years ago at this time, I feel encouraged by my progress, and I look forward to taking this momentum into the upcoming championship season!
My sponsors deserve a shout out for their support (Clif Bar, Pure Power, and MitoQ), and YOU deserve a “thank you,” too, for sticking with me throughout my journey!
Three years ago, I was juggling big track meets with important Spartan Races, and competing on American Ninja Warrior, too. People told I was “unfocused,” but ya know what? I had just spent a couple months in Omaha watching Tim, my husband, undergo a 12-hour surgery to remove cancerous mucin and then be confined to the couch with tubes sticking out of him, so enjoying life to the max got bumped up even higher on my list after that.
So when people ask if they should be focusing only on their main sport (say, OCR) or if they can add in things they also love, like skiing, without feeling guilty, I tell them this story…
In 2016, after a year off the track in my new life as a pro obstacle course racer, I felt a yearning to jump back on to the oval that changed my life, giving me confidence as a teen and a scholarship to Georgetown…
So I signed up for the most competitive event I could find: the Stanford Invitational, knowing I could finish last, but not caring about that. I wanted to get pulled to a fast time by the country’s best, and cheer for/feel inspired by those pushing to make the U.S. Olympic Trials.
People told me I needed to focus, but I knew I needed to feed my spirit, too.
Though my 800 meter (half mile) best from before I switched to OCR was 2 min 7 secs, I figured breaking 2:10 after only a couple months of track work was a good goal. I gave it my all (hence the contorted face above) and finished in 2 min and 10.15 secs, just .16 secs short of goal time.
So I trained hard for three more weeks, joining the local professional track group’s workouts, barely able to keep up, and then raced at the next Stanford meet, and hit my goal with room to spare, 2:08.46! (It wasn’t record-breaking, and still 5 seconds off of the 2016 Olympic Trials qualifying time, but very satisfying all the same.)
The first Spartan National Series race was a two weeks later, and even though it was the only one in which I didn’t podium, I was only fourth by a few seconds, and even though the hills felt extra hard after mainly track training, my heart soared, knowing I could still fly on a track and race OCR well (plus qualify for Ninja Warrior Vegas finals a few weeks later, too, and pace my friend for 20 miles of her top-ten Western States finish – quite the neat variety of experiences around the country)!
I felt empowered, challenging myself in new ways, and juggling so many different skill sets, but the main thing is that I loved the experiences of both the activity/sport and the communities of people I got to be surrounded by.
I finished the OCR season strong and most importantly, happy. Doing three sports that year helped me avoid emotional burnout, which can be almost worst than physical burnout.
So if you’re trying to focus on doing your best as a runner (or a triathlete etc.), but a friend asks you to hike the Grand Canyon with them, I say go for it! Your mind, heart, and spirit will thank you. And who knows? A little break from sport-specific training might be best for performing well in your main sport anyway. Either way, I see it as a lovely version of “living life to the fullest,” and if you’re like me and you value experiences over winning, then I bet you won’t regret it. I sure don’t!
This year taught me important life lessons: believe in yourself, be patient and persistent, forgive, empower yourself, and above all, never give up on yourself and your goals.
They say “when one door closes, another one opens”…
Today, exactly one year later, I am happy and grateful to report that I just had the exact opposite experience: the fantastic CMO of MitoQ just wrote to tell me that everyone there values my partnership, and they are requesting to expand it next year!
If I hadn’t been fired by the beet juice company, which had expanded into supplements, I wouldn’t have been able to partner with MitoQ, and I would not have this fantastic offer before me, which will allow me to train better next year.
And even though at the time it was a tough pill to swallow, I’m also grateful for the lessons I learned, making me a stronger, softer, more grateful and resilient person.
One reason I crawl through mud and flip heavy tires is to prepare myself for when life throws mud in my face and when roadblocks try to stop me from forward progress…
Racing helps me establish good habits, like thinking on my feet, and choosing to get gritty when things go wrong (as they often do, like when I got post-partum depression or when Tim got cancer).
Can you relate?
I’m feeling grateful after finishing the last race of the Spartan U.S. National Series in fourth, bumping my fifth place ranking to fourth. As someone who was still pregnant two years ago at this time, I feel encouraged by my progress, and I look forward to taking this momentum into the upcoming championship season!
My sponsors deserve a shout out for their support (Clif Bar, Pure Power, and MitoQ), and YOU deserve a “thank you,” too, for sticking with me throughout my journey!
The first Spartan National Series race was a two weeks later, and even though it was the only one in which I didn’t podium, I was only fourth by a few seconds, and even though the hills felt extra hard after mainly track training, my heart soared, knowing I could still fly on a track and race OCR well (plus qualify for Ninja Warrior Vegas finals a few weeks later, too, and pace my friend for 20 miles of her top-ten Western States finish – quite the neat variety of experiences around the country)!
I felt empowered, challenging myself in new ways, and juggling so many different skill sets, but the main thing is that I loved the experiences of both the activity/sport and the communities of people I got to be surrounded by.
I finished the OCR season strong and most importantly, happy. Doing three sports that year helped me avoid emotional burnout, which can be almost worst than physical burnout.
So if you’re trying to focus on doing your best as a runner (or a triathlete etc.), but a friend asks you to hike the Grand Canyon with them, I say go for it! Your mind, heart, and spirit will thank you. And who knows? A little break from sport-specific training might be best for performing well in your main sport anyway. Either way, I see it as a lovely version of “living life to the fullest,” and if you’re like me and you value experiences over winning, then I bet you won’t regret it. I sure don’t!