I had a big goal this past year. And I didn’t hit it. This is not a story I told myself, it actually happened {{laughing}}.

I hit 68% of that goal, which—logically—I should be proud of. But when I realized back in August that I wasn’t going to make it, my brain didn’t focus on the progress I’d made. Nope. It latched onto failure like a Minnesota tick.

It started small: You’re not going to do it.

Then it got louder: Maybe you never will.

And then the full-blown storm rolled in: You didn’t try hard enough. You should have been more disciplined. You shouldn’t have had those brownies with Mom on your birthday. This is just like all the other times you set yourself up for failure.

For days, this was the reel playing in my head. And let me tell you, when you spend that much time listening to a story like that, it starts feeling like the truth. Even if it was only for a few days, that’s all it takes.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves Shape Everything

I’ve been here before, in this exact headspace, and I know how dangerous it is. It’s the kind of thinking that makes you want to throw in the towel altogether. It’s the mental spiral that whispers, Why even try?

Back in 2017, I had a goal to lose 200 lbs that year. It seemed impossible, and it felt impossible for most of the year. But when the clock struck midnight on December 31st, 2017, I had lost 187 pounds. I should have been elated. I should have been screaming, This is incredible!

But I wasn’t.

I was so damn disappointed that I didn’t hit 200 that I spiraled. Me and that jar of peanut butter.

Fast forward to August of this year. It wasn’t that my goal was impossible—it just needed more time than I had allowed for it. Once again, I had convinced myself that I could control time. And once again, time laughed in my face.

I also lost valuable time beating myself up instead of focusing on what I had already accomplished.

That’s the power of the stories we tell ourselves.

If you believe you’ll never reach your goal, you’ll find every reason why that’s true. But if you shift the narrative—even slightly—then suddenly, the path forward looks a little different.

• Instead of: I failed.
  Try: I learned what works and what doesn’t.
• Instead of: I’ll never get there.
  Try: I’m not there YET, but I will be.
• Instead of: I’m not capable.
  Try: I’ve already made amazing progress, and I will keep going.

I’ve Lived This Before

This isn’t the first time I’ve had to rewrite my own story.

Years ago, before I ever walked into a CrossFit gym, I had a different soundtrack playing on repeat: I’m not strong. I don’t belong here. People like me don’t do this.

If I had listened to that, I wouldn’t be here today.

Or what about when I decided to write Lifting the Wait? I wasn’t an “author.” I had zero experience writing books. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But if I had let that story stop me, my book wouldn’t exist, and the thousands of people who connected with it wouldn’t have read those words.

How many times do we hold ourselves back—not because something is impossible, but because we’ve convinced ourselves we aren’t the kind of person who can do it?

Rewriting the Story

So, I sat with this for a while. I let myself feel disappointed. I cried. I got frustrated. But I didn’t quit.

Instead, I shifted my attention. I channeled my energy into other things—projects around the house, small wins I could control, things that made me feel accomplished. Not because I was giving up, but because I knew I needed to stop fixating on what didn’t happen and focus on what could still happen.

And here’s what I know:

• I didn’t fail—I built a foundation to hit this goal in the future.
• I didn’t miss my goal—I made significant progress, and I’m not starting over.
• I’m still on this journey. I’m still working. And I refuse to let an outdated story hold me back from what I know I can do.

What Story Are You Telling Yourself?

Maybe you’re telling yourself that you’ll never be an athlete. That you can’t lose the weight. That you’re too old, too busy, too far gone.

Maybe you’re telling yourself that you’re not meant for something better.

Maybe it’s been playing in your head for so long, you don’t even recognize it as a story anymore—you just think it’s the truth.

But here’s what I need you to hear: You can rewrite the story at any time.

Because your goals aren’t impossible. You’re not incapable.

And you haven’t failed.

You’re just in the middle of the story.