Category: emotions

  • Training as a Mom: Juggling CrossFit, Kids, and Life

    Training as a Mom: Juggling CrossFit, Kids, and Life

    At 5AM, I’m loading a barbell. By 7AM, I’m loading backpacks. Somewhere in between, I’m loading my heart with the truth that strength starts inside.

    Barbell

    This season of my life is full. Full of CrossFit, Hyrox training, school drop-offs, soccer practices, and bedtime stories. But I wouldn’t trade it, because every rep, every run, every shuffle from the gym to the soccer field is shaping not just my body, but my mindset.

    Why I’m Back in the CrossFit

    Earlier this year, I pressed pause on CrossFit to focus on marathon training. Running was my main goal, and I poured myself into it. But as much as I loved the miles, I missed the barbell. I missed the feeling of strength building in my body, the way CrossFit keeps you ready for real life movements, and most of all. I missed the community.

    CrossFit isn’t just a workout for me. It’s high-fives after a tough WOD (workout of the day). It’s celebrating small wins with people who genuinely want to see you succeed. It’s pushing myself in ways I never thought possible, surrounded by people who believe I can.

    Right now, I’m splitting my time between CrossFit four days a week and Hyrox training twice a week, with two small-mile run days to keep my endurance up (2 miles running + 2 miles walking). Originally, I had my heart set on Hyrox in November, but the event sold out. So now I’m eyeing a CrossFit competition in October instead.

    Strava log August 11 , 2025

    A Recent Win That Lit Me Up

    I just completed a Hyrox simulator, and it left me buzzing with motivation. It was one of those workouts where your lungs burn, your legs scream, and you feel so alive you can’t wait to do it again. That’s the kind of energy I want to carry into competition season. Whether that’s Hyrox, CrossFit, or both.

    Video of Hyrox simulator

    Training as a Mom of Two

    The hardest part? Balancing my own training with my kids’ schedules. At 5 and 7, they’re in year-round soccer, which means weekday practices and weekend games. My workouts have to be planned around their routines but I’ve learned that discipline isn’t just about sticking to my schedule. It’s about finding a rhythm that works for the whole family.

    Some days, that means I’m training before the sun comes up. Other days, I squeeze in a session between school pickup and practice drop-off. It’s not perfect, but it’s possible.

    Faith in the Grind

    My faith shapes how I approach training. I believe in treating my body as a temple fueling it well, challenging it, and also resting it. But just as important is feeding my mind and spirit. Lately, I’ve been deepening my Bible study time, and I’ve found that my spiritual strength and physical strength go hand in hand.

    Every time I train, I thank God for the ability to move. Every time I hit a PR or finish a tough workout, I remember it’s by His grace that I’m able to do it.

    For the Moms Chasing Big Goals

    If I could give one piece of advice to another busy mom chasing big goals, it’s this:

    Don’t wait for the ā€œperfectā€ season — train in the one you’re in. Your schedule may be messy. Your time may be short. But the discipline you build now will carry into every other part of your life.

    Whether it’s CrossFit, Hyrox, running, or just chasing your kids around the yard. You are stronger than you think.

    Your Turn:

    What’s the big goal you’re training for right now? Drop it in the comments. I’d love to cheer you on.

    And if you want to get updates on my training, faith, and tips for balancing it all, join my email list. I’m working on something special for women who want to be strong in every season.

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  • June felt like a finish line and a starting point all at once.

    I ran my first marathon this month.

    Twenty-six point freaking two miles.

    A distance I once thought only existed in movies and Boston qualifications, and now it’s part of my story. Not just a medal or a Strava entry, but proof of every 5 AM wake-up, every Sunday long run, every time I said ā€œyesā€ to the uncomfortable.

    But that wasn’t even the most transformational part of my month.

    Earlier in June, I went on a spiritual retreat with my mom. We shared silence. Tears. Laughter. Prayers. It was healing in a way that no gym or run ever could be. Our bond feels deeper. Like we’re finally seeing each other—not just as mother and daughter, but as two women trying to be whole.

    I also started this blog.

    Back in February, I hit ā€œpublishā€ on my first ever blog post.

    What started as a space to talk about running quickly turned into something more—

    a journal, a mission, a reset button.

    I called it Tips with Marie, but in many ways, it’s been a love letter to myself.

    To the woman rebuilding her life.

    To the mom learning how to chase her goals without guilt.

    To anyone out there trying to figure it all out mid-stride.

    I never expected to grow so much, or feel so seen just by writing out my truth. And honestly? I’m just getting started.

    June Was a Wake-Up Call

    This month forced me to confront some hard truths:

    I had been overtraining but underhealing. I was chasing ā€œstrongā€ but avoiding softness. I wanted discipline but forgot to practice grace.

    So I pivoted.

    I joined a new CrossFit gym—not just for the gains, but for the community and a clean slate. I’m learning to find strength without burnout. Progress without punishment.

    The Halfway Check-In: 2025 Goals

    We’re halfway through the year, so let’s rewind to what I set out to do in January.

    Goals I set at the beginning of the year:

    āœ… Run a marathon

    āœ… Get closer to my mom

    āœ… Build my blog/brand

    āœ… Wake up at 5 AM consistently

    āœ… Stay sober

    āœ… Pass my classes

    āš ļø Heal emotionally

    āš ļø Get financially free

    āš ļø Believe I’m enough

    Some boxes are checked. Some are still messy.

    But growth isn’t linear, and I’ve stopped expecting perfection from the woman who’s still becoming.

    What’s Next?

    I’m not chasing a ā€œnew me.ā€

    I’m coming home to her.

    July isn’t about hustling harder. It’s about refining the habits that already work.

    Running to feel alive, not just fast.

    Eating to fuel, not to fix.

    Writing to process, not perform.

    Loving myself without conditions.

    I’ll keep choosing discipline over drama, faith over fear, and purpose over pressure.

    Let’s see where the next six months take us.

    This isn’t the end. It’s the halfway magic.

    Want to reflect with me?

    Here’s a journaling prompt you can use:

    šŸ“ What have you already accomplished this year that you didn’t celebrate enough?

    šŸ“ What part of your January self would be proud of you today?

    šŸ“ What are you ready to release before you step into the next half of 2025?

  • šŸ Mile 23 Broke Me: How My First Marathon Took Me Apart and Put Me Back Together

    šŸ Mile 23 Broke Me: How My First Marathon Took Me Apart and Put Me Back Together

    By Marie from Tips with Marie

    Let me be clear…

    I did not overthink this. I signed up for a full marathon kind of the way you sign up for a free trial… casually and with zero clue of what’s coming next.

    I didn’t even really look at the course until the week of. That should tell you everything.

    šŸƒā€ā™€ļø Training? Let’s call it… vibes.

    I joined a local run club and followed whatever schedule they had going on.

    Mondays: 4 miles Tuesdays: Track (when I could keep up) Wednesdays & Fridays: 4 to 6 miles Thursdays: Glorious rest Weekends: Long runs that increased by a mile each week

    I got up to 15 miles, hit a wall, cried a little, backed off, and built back up to 20. Was I ready? Meh. But I knew I was finishing.

    My only real goal: don’t die and maybe sneak in under 5 hours.

    ā˜€ļø Race Day: Energy? Immaculate.

    I woke up on race day like a golden retriever on espresso.

    Happy. Energized. Borderline delusional.

    Pointing up at the Rock ā€˜n’ Roll arch display

    The first 10 miles? An actual blast.

    I was smiling like I was in a Nike commercial.

    Runner’s high? Baby, I was flying.

    Mile 15–20? Still good. Suspiciously good. Something felt off, but I ignored it because ✨ vibes ✨.

    šŸ’„ Mile 23: When Everything Fell Apart

    Mile 20 is where the cracks started. I called my kids. Then my friends. Then my parents. I needed voices that knew my heart.

    At mile 23? Everything hurt. Walking hurt. Running hurt. Stopping hurt.

    And then, the worst pain: my own mind turned against me.

    The self-doubt was so loud. I was mean to myself. Ugly. Cruel.  

    That’s when it hit me:  

    How we talk to ourselves matters. Especially when no one’s watching and everything is on fire

    It felt like a movie.

    I flashed back to the little me. I saw things I had blocked out for years. While still moving forward. My body was done, but something deeper pushed me.

    šŸ… The Only Thing That Kept Me Going

    My kids.

    I told them I’d come back with a medal. There was no turning back.

    Every step hurt, but my mantra played on repeat:

    Put in the work. Rest at the end.

    It’s what I tell them before their soccer games. That day, I needed to hear it from them. So I called them again.

    šŸ The Finish Line Felt… Complicated

    I crossed it.

    But I didn’t take pics. I didn’t cry. I didn’t smile.

    I felt numb.

    Instead of joy, I felt like a failure. I thought, ā€œWho do I think I am?ā€

    And just like that, I stole the moment from myself.

    šŸ’¤ Aftermath: Grandma Limping + Electrolyte Love

    It took a full week to function again.

    I swore I’d never run another marathon.

    Spoiler alert: I’m already looking for the next race.

    🧠 What the Marathon Gave Me

    It gave me… me. A new me.

    One who understands that the voice in your head can either drown you or carry you.

    One who still has self-doubt, but also a new rule:

    ā€œWe don’t stop just because it gets hard.ā€

    I still sometimes catch myself feeling like I’m failing at life but I’m learning that failure doesn’t define who you are.

    You can always rewrite your story.

    Running stripped me down. And in that rawness, I saw how much I’d been blocking the very things I once prayed for.

    Love. Joy. Peace.

    The marathon didn’t just give me a medal.

    It gave me my power back.

    ✨ Final Thoughts:

    Thinking of running a marathon? Do it.

    Not for the pace. Not for the medal.

    Do it to meet the version of yourself who’s waiting on the other side of pain.

    She’s strong. She’s soft. She puts in the work.

  • Dear 18-Year-Old Me: You Didn’t Fail. You Just Started Differently.

    Dear 18-Year-Old Me: You Didn’t Fail. You Just Started Differently.

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  • Rediscovering Yourself as a Mom: A Personal Journey

    Rediscovering Yourself as a Mom: A Personal Journey

    HAPPY MOTHERS DAY !

    Story time:

    I got pregnant my senior year.

    And just like that, everything shifted.

    I thought my dreams had an expiration date. That my new job title was just ā€œMomā€ and my only role was to support my partner and raise my son. My own ambitions? I quietly packed them away, like the college brochures I stopped opening.

    I didn’t know it at the time, but that was the moment I started losing my sense of identity.

    When Guilt Gets Loud

    The thing about being a mom is… no one really tells you how much guilt gets baked into the role. Especially when you start doing something for you.

    When I decided to go back to school, I was proud—but the guilt came creeping in fast.

    Should I really be leaving them this long?

    Am I selfish for wanting more than motherhood?

    It’s this unspoken rule society throws at moms: you’re supposed to give everything, all the time. But no one talks about what happens when there’s nothing left to give to yourself.

    The Chaos (and Comedy) of Doing It All

    Let me paint you a picture:

    I tell my boys every night, ā€œOkay, I’m going to wake up at 5 AM and go run tomorrow!ā€

    And recently, one of them looked me dead in the face and said,

    ā€œNo, you’re not. You sleep in.ā€

    Called. Out.

    Nothing humbles you like being dragged by your own kids. So guess who got up and actually ran the next morning? Me—because I had to reclaim my mom-cred.

    Despite the chaos (and there’s a lot of it), my kids cheer me on.

    After a workout: ā€œHow many miles today, Mom?ā€

    During their soccer practices: ā€œYou got this, brother!ā€ when one of them looks tired.

    They’re learning. They’re watching. And it makes the mess worth it.

    Finding Myself Again

    Motherhood stripped me of a lot—but it also helped me rebuild.

    I didn’t find myself instead of being a mom. I found myself through being one.

    It took time. Therapy. Late-night breakdowns. Early morning runs.

    But now I’m back in school—not for the title or the paycheck, but for the freedom it will bring.

    The freedom to build a life where I can show up for them and myself.

    To be fully present in their lives without feeling like I had to abandon my own.

    This Mother’s Day, I’m Celebrating the Comeback

    I’m not ā€œjustā€ a mom. I’m a student, a runner, a woman rebuilding her life one goal at a time.

    And if you’re a mom reading this feeling like you lost yourself somewhere along the way—I see you. You’re not broken. You’re evolving.

    Motherhood may have shaken your identity, but it can also help you rebuild it stronger.

    Your Turn:

    What part of yourself are you rediscovering? Drop it in the comments—I’d love to hype you up.

    And if you enjoyed this post, buy me a coffee (or send me motivation for my next 5 AM run—I clearly need it)!

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  • Bonus Post : You Are Not Broken: Embracing Sadness and Emotional Validity

    Bonus Post : You Are Not Broken: Embracing Sadness and Emotional Validity

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  • Bonus Post: One Month Sober: Embracing Feelings Without Tequila

    Bonus Post: One Month Sober: Embracing Feelings Without Tequila

    One Month Sober: No Tequila, Still Sad šŸ˜…

    It’s been uno full month since I broke up with tequila… and let’s just say: the cruda emocional is real.

    I started this journey because I knew drinking was holding me back—from my goals, my marathon training, my peace. I told myself: ā€œYa basta. Let’s try a year sober. You got this.ā€

    And now? Estoy aquí… feeling all the feelings. Turns out when you’re not pouring tequila on your emotions, you actually have to feel them. Crazy, right? šŸ˜‚

    I’ve been more llorona than usual, but I’m also more connected to myself than I’ve ever been. I’m not hiding behind ā€œlet’s celebrateā€ or ā€œme lo merezcoā€ā€”I’m just sitting with my stuff… and it’s not always cute, but it’s real.

    I went out recently—everyone around me was taking shots and I won’t lie, I felt left out AF. I almost gave in just to match the vibe, pero I remembered: I love waking up without a hangover mĆ”s than I love pretending I’m okay with a lime and salt.

    Weekends still look the same. Just no drinks, more snacks, and way less regret. Growth? Claro que sĆ­.

    11 months to go. If you’re a fellow sober-ish mami out here trying to heal generational trauma one Saturday at a time, te veo.