It Started With A Row
An elite athlete your age might row 2,000 meters in under 8 minutes. That’s all I really heard when the trainer was setting me up for my benchmark row during one of my first gym sessions.
She went on to say something about how my goal should be closer to 10 minutes—but I had already stopped listening. My brain locked onto “elite” and “under 8”, and suddenly that was the goal. No questions asked.
I’m not exactly sure when this started—this need to chase the higher bar, to aim just a little past what makes sense. Maybe it's the former college athlete in me. Maybe it’s just that semi-delusional voice in my head that tells me I should be at the top of anything athletic I take on. Do your best, right?
But that drive can come with baggage. Especially when you’re a woman in her mid-thirties (okay, fine—thirty-six, so maybe “late thirties”) and a mom of two. My body has been through a lot more than a 2,000-meter row. Still, I hold myself to high standards. And nothing ramps that up faster than someone else watching.
Just before I sat down to row, someone in the gym casually said, “I’d be surprised if she doesn’t go sub-nine.”
And just like that, it was no longer a benchmark. It was a mission. There was zero chance I was walking out of that gym with anything over 9 minutes. Not if I wanted to show my face there again. (To be clear, the trainers were all incredibly supportive—it was just my inner voice spiraling into a competition no one else knew we were having.)
Also: I hate rowing. Truly. I can barely sit on my garage rower for five minutes before deciding I’d rather reorganize the cleaning supplies.
But put me in a gym with people nearby—minding their own business but (in my mind) secretly watching—and something flips. I stop overthinking. I lock in. I suffer in silence.
I rowed 2,000 meters in 8 minutes and 36 seconds.
And that’s how this all kind of started.
From Curiosity to Commitment
Shortly after that rowing benchmark, I asked my trainer about HYROX. People at the gym kept mentioning it, and it seemed to be everywhere on my social media feed. She had just competed in the Atlanta race the weekend before, so it was fresh in her mind.
She started explaining the format: running mixed with functional fitness—sleds, rowing, wall balls, burpee broad jumps (which I’m still trying to emotionally prepare for). Before she even finished, I already knew: I was in.
But it wasn’t just the challenge that pulled me in. The more I asked questions, the more I realized this wasn’t about chasing a number on a scale or hitting a certain weight on the barbell. It was about training for something—something that looked brutally hard and strangely fun. Something that felt like a goal worth chasing.
I’d been craving that for a while. A purpose behind the workouts. A reason to keep showing up that wasn’t tied to “getting my body back” (a phrase I truly hate).
Then she mentioned that a group from the gym was planning to sign up for HYROX Toronto in October.
And that was it. I didn’t need a detailed pitch. It became a quiet, internal yes. A deadline. A reason. A target.
I wasn’t just working out anymore—I was training for something.
Something that scared me a little.
Something that excited me more.
Where I'm Starting From
I’m not new to fitness—but training for HYROX? That’s a different beast.
I’m a mom of two. I haven’t competed in anything since college. My body knows movement, but it also knows exhaustion, tight hips, pelvic floor weirdness (hi again, fellow moms), and the kind of soreness that shows up a day later just from sleeping weird.
I’m not starting from zero. But I’m not starting from the place I used to be either. And I’m trying to be okay with that.
This blog isn’t about pretending I’m an elite athlete. It’s about showing up, honestly, from where I’m actually at.
Why I'm Writing It All Down
I’ve always loved the in-between moments of sport—the gritty, unfiltered stuff no one claps for. The fifth lap of an 8-lap run. The middle reps. The internal negotiations that happen between your ears before your body ever moves.
That’s what The Fifth Lap is about.
It’s not polished highlight reels. It’s training journals, stray thoughts, rough mornings, unexpected wins, and the stuff that lives behind “before and after” photos.
What You Can Expect
In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing:
💥 Honest recaps of my HYROX training (wins, fails, and everything in between)
🧠 Lessons learned—mentally, physically, emotionally
🏃♀️ Real talk on motivation, motherhood, aging, and the messy middle
💬 Stories from other everyday athletes I admire
If you're someone who loves the process more than the podium—or you're just trying to figure out how to stay active in a body that’s lived a few lives—this space is for you.
Let’s Do This
So, yeah. It started with a row.
And now? I’m training for a race I’m equally nervous and excited about—and documenting every uneven, sweaty, imperfect step of the way.
If you're along for the ride, subscribe. Leave a comment. Share your own training story or tell me what scares you about starting something new.
Let’s build this thing together.