THE MIND GAME: TRAINING SMARTER, NOT HARDER

I can feel the sweat dripping off my face as I push through the next set of squats on the Smith machine. My heart pounds, my music blasts through my AirPods, and my legs shake. I lock the bar back into place and stare at myself in the mirror. The person looking back is nearly unrecognizable.

MY RELATIONSHIP WITH SPORTS

Growing up, I had a complicated relationship with sports. I wasn’t a D1 athlete, but I had the strength and capability to be one. I wanted to be sporty like many of my friends who cycled through different teams and seasonal school sports, but I never quite fit in. My history with sports was short-lived—except for one.

I was recruited onto my town’s swim team around the age of seven and quickly became one of the strongest swimmers. But when my family moved from New Jersey to Connecticut, I struggled to make friends and felt out of place as the youngest on the team. Eventually, I gave up swimming. In middle school, I played lacrosse and even won “Most Improved” in my first year, but I quit to focus on my grades in high school. The only sport that truly stuck with me was horseback riding. I continued riding throughout high school until COVID-19 changed everything.

THE PANDEMIC

In March 2020, COVID-19 shut down the world. I had to say goodbye to horseback riding, pack my bags, and prepare for a new chapter at High Point University.

That summer was a wild one. While most people were stuck at home, I found a loophole—outdoor adventures. I spent my days on Connecticut’s beaches, taking ferries to nearby islands, and soaking up the warm tidal pools of the Long Island Sound. By the end of summer, I was sun-kissed, freckled, and ready to start fresh at HPU.

High Point was everything I had dreamed of: freedom. Freedom from chores, from Connecticut, from responsibility, from parents. But freedom comes with consequences. My active lifestyle of swimming, running, and healthy eating turned into late-night fast food, movies, and partying with new friends.

A few weeks into the semester, my roommate and I decided to keep each other accountable. “You know about the ‘Freshman 15,’ right?” she asked. Determined not to gain weight, we started running at night on HPU’s track, blasting music and chasing the runner’s high. It became our thing. But as she made new friends, she stopped joining me. I kept running, determined to hit three miles every day—until my body gave out.

THE CRASH

It started with headaches. Then, weakness. I was out of breath walking up the stairs, going to class, even just moving around my room. My three-mile runs became a mental battle, and midday naps became a necessity. Eventually, I went to the health center. No COVID-19. No answers.

Two days later, I woke up with my face swollen, fluid pooling under my skin. A second trip to the health center confirmed it: Mono. My spleen was severely inflamed, and I was put on strict bed rest. No running. No workouts. Barely any class attendance. I felt defeated.

Weeks later, I went home early for the semester. While FaceTiming a guy I had been talking to, he bluntly pointed out, “You’re gaining some weight.” I explained my situation, but he cut me off: “Caroline, it’s been over eight weeks now. Get out of bed. Go to the gym.”

That conversation hit hard. It was the wake-up call I needed.

BOUNCING BACK—AND HITTING ANOTHER WALL

Determined, I jumped into a strict routine: a diet plan, morning yoga, treadmill runs. But I pushed too hard, too fast. Two weeks in, I woke up with a sharp pain in my knee. Walking hurt. Stairs were unbearable. After some research, I realized I had runner's knee. I needed to slow down.

I educated myself on strengthening exercises, mobility work, stretching, and proper recovery. Slowly, I eased back into running. Eventually, I was back to three miles a day.

THE MINDSET SHIFT

I developed an “unstoppable” mindset. Rain or shine, sick or tired, I forced myself to run. My runs had to be at least three miles. Anything less felt like failure. Friends and family questioned my obsession. “Three miles every day? Really?” they’d ask. I’d just smile and say, “The grind never stops.”

When others tried running with me, they were shocked by my speed and endurance. “You barely even sweat,” they’d say. What they didn’t see was the mental battle I fought daily. Missing a run meant failure. My inner voice was relentless: You’re not good enough. Your pace is slowing. You’re getting fat.

Then, my boyfriend at the time convinced me to join Gold’s Gym. At first, I stuck to the women’s section, intimidated by the bodybuilders. But slowly, I incorporated lifting into my routine. Three miles on the treadmill, then strength training. Over time, I moved from the women’s gym to the main floor, gaining confidence with every rep.

FINDING MY PLACE

What truly transformed my fitness journey was switching to the YMCA in High Point, NC. From the outside, the Hartley Drive YMCA looked run-down, nothing like the pristine gyms I was used to. But inside, I found a home.

I spent months refining my form, increasing my lifts, and immersing myself in gym culture. That summer, I worked a retail job, spending eight-hour shifts on my feet. My knees ached. My ankles swelled. I realized how much my body had endured. So, for the first time in years, I made a choice: I stopped running.

For nine months, I didn’t run a single mile.

When I finally laced up my sneakers again, I could barely run one. I hated it. I questioned everything I had worked for. But then, a small voice inside me shifted: It’s okay. Just run a mile today. You’re doing more than most people.

And that’s what kept me going.

THE RESULT

The gym has introduced me to incredible people and taught me to push my limits while also knowing when to rest. Since graduating from HPU, I’ve moved to a different YMCA. While I miss my old gym, I know that the Hartley Drive YMCA will always be part of my journey.

I never gave up on lifting, even when I tried to talk myself out of it. This past winter, I committed to a 5K training plan through the app Runna. Now, I lift five days a week and run three. But for me, it’s no longer just about the physical gains.

Four years ago, I worked out for all the wrong reasons—to impress a guy, to be skinny, to fit an unrealistic ideal. Today, my goals are different. The gym is my safe space. My sanctuary. A place to challenge myself, process emotions, and find peace. Working out is more than just burning calories or building muscle—it’s about building resilience.

My fitness journey has been anything but linear—twisty, curvy, bumpy, and rocky. But if I had to do it all over again, I would. Because working out isn’t just physical. It’s a mind game. And the only way to win is to keep playing.