By my definition, to be a ‘beast’ in an athletic sense, you have to be willing to push your limits beyond what an average human would consider safe. You have to know exactly what you want to achieve physically, and be able to get yourself there mentally. You need to accept the idea that injury is likely, and know that if you lose you are probably NOT going to be okay. So pretty much, you have to be a complete psycho, and own it. And now I get it, because thaaaaaat’s me!

I look back on many of the things I have done in my life, and I often question my mental sanity. I spent the vast majority of my childhood in the gym, and I cannot remember complaining about it a single time. From the age of 3 to 16, I spent an average of 7 hours daily, training gymnastics. I only went to school for 4 hours a day, where I had maybeeee five good friends in total over the span of 13 years. I never stayed for lunch, I didn’t even know what PE was because I never had to take it. Instead, I was injured every other month with some sort of cast on my body. I got yelled at for hours a day being told I wasn’t performing well enough. I ate fast food for every meal because it’s all I had time for. I did homework from 9pm to at least midnight every single day, only to go through it all again the next morning. I conditioned with my coaches to the point of tears almost daily. I was a child who did not have a childhood. And I LOVED IT!

Fast forward to 16 years old after a career-ending hand injury, here is a girl who grew up way too fast, and all she had ever known was taken away from her. I was lost as fuck; I had WAY too much time on my hands, no real friends at school... and now I had to take PE?? WTF is that?! Long story short, it was my bright idea to quit eating for the next four years, and completely throw away the impressive and strong body I had worked hard for my entire life up until this point.