10/16/2026
For 30 years, Portland, OR was my world.
It’s where I bought my house, built deep roots, became a climber, runner, competitive bodybuilder and powerlifter, and built a strength coaching business.
Leaving my community and saying goodbye to my clients to start over at 55 was hard enough. But doing it while watching my dad suffer through a sudden, terminal mesothelioma diagnosis, facing a terrifying heart condition with my 9-year-old dog, and prepping for the North American Powerlifting Championships was an overload I never saw coming.
The gym has always been my sanctuary. But when grief hits this hard, the body keeps the score. My strength completely disappeared. I couldn’t lift. I couldn’t fake it.
Withdrawing from Team USA and stepping away was devastating, but it was the most necessary act of strength I’ve ever performed.
Today, my dad is at peace. My dog got a pacemaker and is thriving like a puppy. I’m re-establishing my coaching business here in NY and online, and my strength is returning.
To anyone holding massive loss or transition right now: grant yourself the grace to stop fighting your body. Give yourself permission to go slow. Grief isn’t weakness—it’s human. And when you are ready to pick things back up, the strength you thought you lost will be there waiting for you. 🤍