Imagine this.
It's early on a cold morning. You're standing at a start line with a number pinned to your chest. Your heart is pounding. There are people everywhere, music blaring, and somewhere in the crowd someone you love is holding a sign with your name on it.
Six months ago, you'd never have believed you'd be here.
An hour later, you cross the finish line. Muddy, breathless, and so proud you could burst.
That feeling? It's available to you. I know, because I was the least likely person to ever feel it.
The girl who couldn't do the monkey bars
I was never sporty. I was rubbish at PE. I was the kid in the park who couldn't hold on to the monkey bars. Physical stuff was just not my thing.
I'd lost six and a half stone, and I needed something to keep me going. Then a friend of mine, who'd done moonwalk marathons through the night, signed up for a 5k Spartan race in Madrid. I was living in Malaga. She asked if I wanted to do it with her.
I looked it up. It scared the living daylights out of me. Mud. Crawling under cargo nets. Lifting Atlas stones. And a rope climb. I'd never climbed a rope in my life. I nearly backed out.
But I signed up.
What happened when I had a date in the diary
Everything changed. Suddenly I had a reason to train, so I turned up. I had a reason to fuel properly, so I ate well. My training meant something, so I actually got excited about it. And the more I practised, the more I felt, well, like a bit of a badass.
On the day, I walked some of it and ran some of it. I didn't care. I did it.
And that rope? I went away and learnt how to climb it. Here's the secret: it's not about your arms or your grip. It's all in your feet. You lock the rope around your feet and climb it like a ladder. It's far simpler than it looks. I've since taught women in their seventies to climb ropes.
Learning that rope climb is what got me into CrossFit. CrossFit led to competing, and I went on to podium and win professional competitions. I went on to do a half marathon, the Spartan Trifecta (the 5k, 10k and 20k in one weekend), and a Spartan Hurricane Heat: 12 hours, starting at 5am, with more than 1,000 burpees.
I would never have done any of it if I hadn't said yes to one small race that terrified me.
Why a big goal changes everything
When the only goal is the number on the scales, it's easy to feel defeated. The scales don't always move, and "lose a bit more weight" is rarely exciting enough to beat the cake or the wine.
An event is different. It gives you:
- A date. Your training builds towards something real.
- A reason to fuel. You stop eating less and start eating for performance.
- Accountability. You can't wing a rope climb.
- Resilience. You learn you can do hard things, and that spills into your business, your family and your confidence.
And here's the thing about identity. Athletes sign up for events. When you sign up, you stop being someone who's "trying to get fit". You become someone who's training for something.
Find your rung on the ladder
You don't have to start with a Spartan. Meet yourself where you are, then stretch.
- Beginner: walk a parkrun, Race for Life, a local charity walk, your first full press-up or 10 of them.
- Stretch: a 10k, a half marathon (the Bath Half is two flat laps), open water swimming, your first pull-up, a Hyrox, deadlifting your bodyweight.
- Adventure: a marathon, a Spartan, a Tough Mudder, the Three Peaks, a sponsored trek abroad, a pilgrimage walk.
It doesn't have to be gritty or grunty. Kayaking, paddleboarding, a powerlifting meet, a dance or pole competition. The best goal is the one that lights you up.
Age is not the barrier you think it is
One of my one-to-one clients is 65. She's doing a Hyrox in December. Sixty-five!
One of our women, Sophie, walked 87 kilometres. Emma, who loves lifting, is now looking for her first powerlifting competition.
None of them were born athletes. They decided to be.
Who's watching you?
Most of us lead our households. Our kids are watching. Our partners are watching. If you lead a team or a group of women, they're watching too.
What are you showing them is possible when you step outside your comfort zone?
When the doubt creeps in
It will. The moment you think about signing up, a little voice will say "that's not for me" or "I could never".
Ask yourself: is that the woman I am now talking? Or is that an old voice, from school, from an old diet, from someone who once told me I couldn't?
Your four questions
Grab a pen and answer these honestly:
- What would make me ridiculously proud of myself?
- What scares me enough to matter?
- Who could I do it with?
- What would it teach me about myself?
Then find a date. Sign up. Tell someone. This week.
Six months from now, you could be standing at that start line. Heart pounding. Someone you love in the crowd.
I'll be cheering you on.