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For too many female college athletes, food becomes complicated. Between social media pressure, team weigh-ins, and comparison with non-athlete friends, eating “enough” can start to feel wrong — even when it’s exactly what your body needs to perform, recover, and stay healthy.


You’re Not Like Your Non-Athlete Friends

Let’s be real — your training load is different. You can’t eat like your roommate who studies all day and doesn’t have practice at 6 a.m. You train, lift, sprint, and compete. You break your body down daily — and if you don’t refuel, it can’t rebuild. Under-eating isn’t discipline; it’s self-sabotage.


A Little Humor from My College Days

Back when I was a top collegiate athlete, we didn’t know half of what we know now about sports nutrition. My idea of post-match recovery? A Papa John’s pizza at midnight — and maybe a Diet Coke to “balance it out.” Let’s just say that’s not quite the same as strategic fueling! But we did our best with what we knew. Now, you’ve got access to better knowledge — so use it.


The Performance Cost of Under-Fueling

When you don’t eat enough, your body fights back. You lose energy, focus, and strength. You recover slower, your hormones get disrupted, and injuries creep in. You might think you’re “leaner,” but in reality, you’re running on empty — and your performance will show it.


Food Is Fuel — Not the Enemy

You can’t expect your body to perform like a Ferrari if you fill it like a scooter. Fueling right means eating enough of the right things, at the right times. Food gives you energy, power, and mental clarity — it’s not something to fear or earn.


Coaches and Parents — Your Language Matters

Talk about fueling, not dieting. Replace “watch your weight” with “how are you fueling today?” When young women hear consistent, positive messages around strength and nourishment, it builds confidence — not guilt.


The Bottom Line

You don’t have to be perfect — just be aware. Listen to your body, fuel it with respect, and trust that strong always outperforms skinny.


Your body is your most important piece of equipment. Take care of it — it’s the only one you get.



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I’ve always believed in helping where I can. Whether it’s connecting someone to an opportunity 🤝, offering advice 💡, or simply opening a door 🚪 they might not have known existed, I operate from a place of generosity and integrity. It’s how I was raised. It’s how I coached. And it’s how I do business.


But what happens when you pour your time, energy, and heart ❤️ into helping someone—and they don’t acknowledge it? No thank you. No follow-up. No loop closed. Just… silence.


It stings. 💔


Most of us who lead or coach from a service mindset have been there. You do something to support someone—often going above and beyond—and there’s an unspoken understanding that it’s not just a favor, it’s an investment. In them. In their journey. In the relationship.


And then you find out through someone else, or see something posted online 📲, or simply never hear from them again.


That sting? It’s real. 😔 But so is the question: What do we do with that disappointment? 🤔


When you’re in the business of helping people—whether you’re a coach 🎾, a leader 👩‍💼, a teacher 📚, or just someone who leads with heart 💕—this is the paradox we face. We give with no guarantees. We invest with no certainty of return. We hope people will match our integrity, and sometimes they do. But sometimes… they don’t.

So where’s the line? When does generosity become self-sacrifice? When does helping become enabling? And how do we keep giving without becoming jaded?


Here’s what I’ve come to believe:


1️⃣ Not every seed you plant will bloom the way you hoped. 🌸

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth planting. Sometimes your impact shows up in ways you never see. Sometimes your name gets passed along quietly. Sometimes your influence lives in the lessons they carry forward—even if they never say it out loud.


2️⃣ Expectations without boundaries lead to resentment. 🛑

It’s OK to have clear agreements. To say, “If I do this, I’d appreciate that.” Not as a condition of kindness, but as a mutual respect for time and energy. Next time, I’ll be clearer. Wiser. Still generous—but with structure.


3️⃣ You either act from your values or you don’t. 🌟

And my values don’t change based on how people respond. I believe in helping people. I believe in doing the right thing, even when no one’s watching. That doesn’t mean I won’t feel disappointed—but it does mean I can sleep at night. 🛌


And I’ll keep showing up. I’ll keep helping. And, I’ll also keep learning. 🚀

 
 
 

This past week, I won two golf club championships. On paper, that sounds like a dream. But here’s the truth: I didn’t play well in either event. In fact, leading up to them, I was battling the dreaded “shanks”—arguably the worst word in golf. (Shout out to Kevin Rhoads - the best golf coach out there - for talking me off the ledge and convincing me I could fix this issue before the events started)


There were moments I wanted to quit. Walk off. Throw in the towel. But something deep inside wouldn’t let me. That “something” comes from years as a collegiate athlete, where grit wasn’t optional—it was the standard.


College sport teaches you to compete even when everything feels off. To show up, fight for every point, and trust that the work you’ve put in will carry you when confidence wavers. This week was a reminder that resilience is often the real champion—not the swing, not the scoreboard.


Winning ugly is still winning. And the grit it takes to keep going when you’re at your worst is the same grit that carries student-athletes to thrive in the U.S. college system. That’s why I’m passionate about helping athletes find scholarships—not just to play a sport, but to build the resilience, discipline, and character that last a lifetime.


Because when the “shanks” show up—in sport, in studies, or in life—you’ll need that same inner voice that says: Don’t quit. Keep going.


Indian Peaks Golf Club
Indian Peaks Golf Club

 
 
 

©2025 by Transition Coach 4 Athletes.

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