You know how half the time I’m all I AM AMAZING and the other half I’m like curled into the foetal position with Graham and rocking with silent tears?

Maybe we need more hard-asses who tell us to quit being a baby and eat our fucking pineapple rice.

If you are willing to spend this ridiculously LIMITED time being fucking average, then I’m sorry (not sorry) but I cannot get around you.

No matter what your potential is, world champion, wizard or weightlifter, you have the power to unlock that shit.

I think that so much of strength is being vulnerable, and admitting that you don’t always feel like you’re going to destroy the universe, and that things like surprise muesli and unripe bananas send you over the fucking edge.

Stop whinging, broccoli is currently $2.50 a kilo and everything is going to be fucking fine.

More isn't better. Unless it's listening more, learning more, and doing more of the shit that you suck at. Better, is fucking better.

I refuse to be treated like a Netflix episode.

You fuckers are stuck with me and I am SO happy about it.

I saw this quote once that went ‘fuck God, believe in yourself’, and as aggressive as this is , it’s kinda spot on.

Fuck this. I can legit get an entire new set of eyelashes for what I’m paying this lady.

It’s becoming increasingly apparent that giving a shit about someone other than yourself is actually no longer a thing.

‘It’s OK to fall’ she says as I hover precariously in my left side aeroplane, and for some reason this causes hot tears to prick at the back of my eyes.

It’s easy to be all ‘the obstacle is the way’ and ‘focus on what you can control’ when you’re lifting well, you get a new match on tinder, and broccoli is two dollars a kilo.

You can just choose to show up and be yourself, and you don’t need an invitation to do that.

‘Because, Mum, if the decal is wrinkled, I am obviously a fucking failure, at everything.’

It didn’t really ever occur to me that my obsessive nature and necessity to control every aspect of my life was perhaps not essential.

I know my blog is all about (mostly) me trying to be an athlete, but I honestly don’t seriously consider myself to be one.

Fuck balance and fuck living your life in fear.

Other kids were still piss farting around with their two dimensional felt mice with beads for eyes, and I had made a fucking dinosaur.