The Journey of Motherhood and Weightlifting
Being a mom is the hardest yet most rewarding role one can have. There’s never enough time, yet when your kids fall asleep at night, you find yourself wishing you had given them even more of it.
This is my journey from being an athlete aiming to break a South African record to becoming pregnant and embracing the beautiful chaos of motherhood.
I wasn’t always the fit type. Before starting my CrossFit journey, I was a full-time smoker, enjoying drinks and parties on the weekends (okay, I was younger then, too!). My husband, Cam, started CrossFit before I did. I still remember my first CrossFit trial class with Danie, where we had to run, do pull-ups, and squats. My lungs, used to cigarettes, struggled through the run. CrossFit didn’t immediately win me over, but it reached a point where Cam lovingly told me, “Babe, I love you, but there’s just more of you to love these days.” I wasn’t a big person, but I had picked up a little weight.
So, I dove into CrossFit. I was lucky in that some things came naturally to me: handstand push-ups, pull-ups—these skills clicked almost instantly. But running? I hated it. One of the reasons I quit smoking was because every time we ran, one girl would always beat me. Soon, every cigarette I lit brought back that feeling of being outpaced.
Cam eventually left his job to open his own CrossFit box. I’m so blessed to have chosen a man who is a leader, who fights for everything he believes in. I followed him on this new journey, even though we had little money. But I’ve never chased money—it means nothing when you’re with someone who makes you happy.
Cam and I come from very different backgrounds. My parents taught me the value of hard work, and my dad made sure I knew how to fix things, from changing a tire to push-starting my first car. Cam, on the other hand, had a different upbringing and had to quickly learn how to use tools and do hands-on tasks when he opened the box. Together, we did everything ourselves. We’d wake up at 4 a.m. to coach, I’d work my 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. job, and then return to the box to help with evening classes. I cleaned bathrooms, floors, equipment, and handled the admin. It was long, hard hours, but we built it together.
One day, Darryn Anthony came to help us with weightlifting, encouraging us to enter a competition. At first, I thought he was crazy, but we went for it, and I loved it. Weightlifting introduced me to Sinclair, a system that considers your body weight in relation to your lifts. I realized I was strong! CrossFit doesn’t consider weight categories, but in weightlifting, I discovered my strength.
I entered my first weightlifting competition and won (okay, I was the only one in my weight class, but I lifted more than girls 20–30 kg heavier than me!). I started training with my first real coach, Andrew Anthony, an old-school mentor who taught me not to hold back, even if it meant making noise to get the weight up.
I was on track to compete in the South African championships, with a record to beat in my category: 70 kg. I was snatching 67 kg, just 3 kg away, and thrilled to try and break it. But then, God had other plans—I found out I was pregnant just a week before the competition. My heart was shattered. I had trained so hard, and it was supposed to be my moment. But instead, I had to set it aside for the little human growing inside me.
After giving birth to my daughter, Gemma, I got back into the gym, losing all the weight within a year. I even entered another weightlifting competition to stay motivated. However, as much as I wanted to return to competitive weightlifting, my priorities had shifted. I had a new purpose, and spending two hours in the gym wasn’t feasible anymore.
When my second daughter, Stella, reached an age where I had more time to train, I thought about competing again. I even asked my friend Kaylee to join me. We were around the same weight and equally strong. Training together would benefit us both. Soon, I was selected to compete in the Commonwealth Championships in India. Our community came together, and with God’s grace, I was able to go. It was a bittersweet experience—I sustained a neck injury just two weeks before the competition, which impacted my lifts, but I competed nonetheless.
Returning home, I soon found out I was pregnant again. Sadly, that pregnancy ended in loss, and my world fell apart. I struggled to understand why things happened as they did, but some things are beyond our understanding.
Today, we’re blessed with another beautiful baby boy. If it’s in God’s will, I may return to competing someday. But if not, that’s okay, too. I’ve been blessed beyond any record or achievement a competition could offer.
