It sounds a little bleak, giving up.
To say farewell to something you've invested in so tirelessly?
Yet the act of giving up immediately landed me in the most exciting, hopeful time of my career so far (i'm too young to be saying things like this).
I'm ruthlessly stubborn.
Once I've made a decision - there's no turning back.
The decision to study Sport and Exercise Science was one that came to me quite easily.
Granted, it took me two years, acquiring one Diploma in Event Management, and working full time at a sports retail store to get there - but I got there nonetheless.
When my acceptance email rolled through, I remember thinking "surely it's meant to be harder to get into uni?".
Perhaps I wanted God, to decide for me. I'd apply, half-committed. If I was accepted, it's where He wants me. If not? Then I'll do something else.
Flash forward three years. I'm sitting in a lab in the UTS Moore Park facility, desperately trying to understand how to translate lactate threshold data into a training plan. Upsettingly, it's for an exam. Science and maths? What on earth was I thinking.
Regardless, I pushed on.
Passed.
Did my placement.
Managed to pull a Distinction average.
Graduated, allegedly (cheers lockdown).
Began working as a personal trainer.
Questioned my life choices repeatedly.
Loved working for myself, at least.
Finally got more comfortable with it.
Got headhunted for a full time PT job. Said no twice. Then said yes.
My hesitation was self-awareness. My acceptance was made in fear. Fear of disappointing someone else. Fear of missing out. Fear of failing in my own business.
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I loved fitness. I still do. I love lifting, I love helping people get better at lifting, seeing people realise just how capable they are, and treat their bodies, and minds, with compassion. But I am not built for week on week, days on days of back-to-back PT sessions.
Becoming a personal trainer was a form of rebellion, I think.
I was rejected from dance, tennis and the netball team in primary school. Not so athletically inclined, so therefore not given the chance to become so.
By high school, I was a hater. Cross country season was my personal nightmare. I walked the course on event day just to spite the teachers so unkindly forcing us to partake.
By some miracle, I started running of my own accord at age 16. I came 14th in cross country the next year. Proving people 'wrong about me' is one of my favourite pass times.
Cut to me becoming an exercise scientist. Overqualified Personal Trainer.
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Back to our story - I'm working full time as a PT, dreading any day with more than 3 clients scheduled.
At this time I was also acquiring my Sports Nutrition accreditation. I was ready to go all in on this, balancing PT and Sports Nutrition in any way I could.
But there was something else calling my name. Something I couldn't put down. My weekends were spent on anything, and everything creative.