I didn’t walk into CrossFit Lincoln fourteen years ago thinking I’d become a coach. I walked in as a member, nervous and a little unsure of what I was getting myself into — just like a lot of the people I work with today. For the first six years, I was purely an athlete. I showed up, put in the work, and fell in love with what this community could do for a person.
Then I started coaching. And everything changed.
Eight years behind the whiteboard has shaped not just how I train, but how I lead, how I listen, and honestly, how I try to show up in every area of my life. I’ve watched hundreds of athletes come through this door. I’ve seen people transform in ways that are hard to measure and far more meaningful than any PR. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, coaching started quietly teaching me things I didn’t even know I needed to learn.
Here are three of the biggest ones.
Meet People Where They Are — Not Where You Want Them to Be
This one took me longer than I’d like to admit.
Early on, I think I coached the athlete I wanted to see rather than the one standing in front of me. I had an idea of what progress looked like, what effort looked like, what a good training session looked like — and I measured people against that picture without always stopping to ask what they were carrying that day.
The truth is, everyone who walks through our doors is dealing with something you can’t see. A hard week at work. A rough night of sleep. A season of life that is quietly draining them. The athlete who seems disengaged might just be running on empty. The one who can’t hit the weights they hit last week might be doing everything they can just to be here.
Coaching taught me to zoom out. To ask more questions and make fewer assumptions. To see the person first and the performance second. And what I’ve found — in the gym and in life — is that when people feel truly met where they are, they almost always rise. Not because you pushed them, but because they felt safe enough to push themselves.
Consistency Will Always Beat Intensity
We live in a culture that glorifies the big moment. The dramatic transformation. The all-or-nothing effort. And I get it — intensity is exciting. It’s visible. It makes for a good story.
But after eight years of coaching and fourteen years of watching athletes grow, I can tell you with complete confidence that the people who make the most lasting progress are not the ones who go the hardest. They’re the ones who keep showing up.
The athlete who comes four days a week, every week, for three years — they will outperform the one who trained intensely for three months and burned out every single time. Not because they’re more talented or more disciplined in some dramatic way. But because they built something sustainable. They made it a part of who they are rather than something they do when motivation is high.
This lesson has followed me out of the gym and into everything else. The consistency of small, intentional efforts — in relationships, in leadership, in personal growth — compounds in ways that no single burst of intensity ever could. You don’t have to be remarkable every day. You just have to keep going.
Showing Up Is the Work
There is a version of showing up that looks like checking a box. You’re there, but you’re not really there. Going through the motions, counting down the clock, doing just enough.
And then there’s the other kind — where you walk in the door and make a decision, consciously or not, to be present. To give what you have that day. To connect with the people around you. To try something that scares you a little.
That second kind of showing up — that’s where everything happens.
I’ve watched athletes show up through injuries, through grief, through seasons of life that would have given any of us a reason to stay home. And almost without exception, they’ve told me afterward that being here helped. Not because we fixed anything. But because showing up — even imperfectly, even on the hard days — reminded them of something important about themselves.
Coaching taught me that showing up is rarely just about the workout. It’s about the identity you’re reinforcing every time you walk through the door. Every time you choose to do the hard thing. Every time you decide that you are someone who doesn’t quit when it gets uncomfortable.
That’s true in the gym. It’s true in leadership. It’s true in life.
Eight years of coaching — and fourteen years of being part of this community — and I’m still learning. I’m still being shaped by the people here just as much as I hope to shape them. That’s the thing nobody tells you about coaching — the lessons flow both ways.
So whether you’ve been here for years or just walked in for the first time — the work you’re doing inside these walls is teaching you something too. Pay attention to it. It might just change your life.