The first time I set foot in a weight room, I was fourteen. Despite feeling overwhelmingly self-conscious and scared, my dad encouraged me to strength train as a way to support my goals as an aspiring track athlete. My parents dropped me off at the gym weekly, forcing me to overcome my fears and slowly understand that the weight room is not just for the jocks and the muscle heads, it's for girls who want to be great.

 

At a young age, I learned to associate exercise with strength and performance instead of weight loss. The reward for working out was faster times on the track, not fitting into my jeans. While many of my peers were unintentionally swept up in 90’s diet culture, I was learning to bench press, squat, and build my confidence in a male dominated domain. 

 

Running and lifting carried me through college and beyond, leading to marathons, triathlons, and representing Team USA at the Duathlon World Championships. Being a competitive athlete helped built a deep understanding of how to fuel my body for strength and performance.

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But the most important thing I gained from my hours of feeling awkward and out of place amongst jocks and barbells, was confidence. Showing up day after day, feeling my body transform, taking up space in spite of feeling like I didn't belong, and eventually finding strength within and a community around me.

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Now in my forties and a mom of two boys, my training looks different. My body has carried me through so many seasons—pregnancy, injuries, comebacks, and everything in between.