As someone who’s spent a good part of life in athletics, I’ve always known the value of showing up, staying consistent, and taking care of my body. But something shifts when you become a parent. Suddenly, the things you do without much thought—the morning stretch, the way you prep meals, your commitment to movement—become moments your kids are quietly absorbing.
They’re watching us. More than we realize.
And that’s a powerful thing.
It’s not about putting pressure on them to follow in our footsteps—it’s about giving them something steady to look up to. When we move with purpose, speak positively about our bodies, and make time for health in the midst of a busy day, we’re planting seeds. Seeds of discipline, of joy, of self-awareness. Seeds that, with time, start to grow into their own curiosity and confidence in movement.
I see it in little ways all the time. A mirrored stretch on the living room floor. A question about what muscles a certain exercise works. That spark of pride when they nail a skill they’ve been working on. It’s not just about sports—it’s about watching them build a relationship with their own bodies, fueled by a foundation they’ve seen modeled in our home.
We don’t have to be perfect. We just have to be present.
The goal isn’t to raise athletes who chase wins. It’s to raise kids who understand the value of moving their bodies, caring for their health, and enjoying the process. Fundamentals matter, absolutely. But so does fun. So does freedom. So does letting them fall in love with sport and activity in their own way.
When we show them that movement is a celebration—not a chore—they carry that forward. When we make space for rest, teach the importance of listening to their bodies, and remind them that growth takes time, they begin to understand what wellness really means.
At the end of the day, I don’t move for them—but I know they’re watching. And because of that, I move with intention. Not just to keep myself strong, but to show them what it looks like to love and respect your body, to stay curious, and to keep showing up—for yourself and the people you love.
That’s the legacy I hope to leave behind: not trophies or records, but a lived-out example of balance, joy, and strength—both inside and out.
Now look at V crush this drive!
