Fitness has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember—but not in the way most people picture it.

While other high schoolers were playing team sports, I was busy showing horses and working with livestock. My “training” looked a lot more like moving hay bales, scrubbing stalls, dumping water buckets that were nearly as big as me, catching horses from the far pastures, and riding daily to keep them exercised. Sometimes, I even jumped in to help the ranch boys with the bigger chores—because that’s just what you do on a ranch. Without even realizing it, I was building strength, endurance, and grit.

Fitness wasn’t a scheduled gym class. It was part of life.

But it did eventually lead me to the gym. My dad, who was deeply into weightlifting and had played multiple sports growing up, began taking me with him when I got old enough. He taught me how to lift weights, use proper form, and most importantly—he showed me how empowering it is to feel strong in your own body. Those gym sessions with my dad are some of my favorite memories and the reason I fell in love with fitness.

He saw how much I loved working out and encouraged me to explore a future in Physical Therapy. At sixteen, I got my first job as a Physical Therapy Aide. That experience changed everything—it gave me purpose, direction, and a deeper understanding of how the body works and heals.

That led me to pursue a degree in Kinesiology (Exercise and Sports Science) at Oregon State University – Cascades. I absolutely loved college. I soaked up every anatomy lecture, every biomechanics class, every opportunity to apply what I was learning to my own health, training, and goals. Fitness wasn’t just something I did anymore—it became part of who I was.

But then, life threw me a curveball I never saw coming.

The week of finals before my college graduation, I started experiencing some unusual and alarming symptoms. I went to urgent care, but after a few tests, nothing concerning came back. The symptoms cleared up after a few days, and I moved on.

Fast forward to 2023, and I’d had six more episodes—two of which landed me in the hospital with symptoms that mirrored acute kidney failure. I was exhausted, scared, and no longer willing to write it all off as “just stress.”

I started fighting for answers.

After a Cystoscopy, CT Urogram, and endless rounds of bloodwork and urine tests, I finally got a diagnosis:
IgA Nephropathy — a rare autoimmune kidney disease.

As a 27-year-old woman who still wants to start a family, the diagnosis was devastating and terrifying. I had always believed that my health was something I could control through movement, food, sleep, and consistency. But this diagnosis reminded me that sometimes, your body has its own plans.

Thankfully, I’ve found an amazing nephrologist who is helping me manage the disease with the best care available. And while this journey has forced me to reevaluate everything I thought I knew about wellness, it’s also deepened my purpose.

I’m choosing to share this because wellness isn’t linear. It’s not just about workouts and supplements and kale smoothies. It’s about listening to your body, advocating for yourself, and sometimes facing uncomfortable truths with courage.

Being strong now means something completely different than it did when I was tossing hay bales in high school or maxing out my deadlifts in the gym. Now, strength means being consistent even when it’s hard. It means showing up for myself through doctor’s appointments, lab work, tough mental days, and still choosing to believe in healing.

This is only Part 1 of my story—but I wanted to start here, because the path to true wellness isn’t always smooth. Sometimes, it’s muddy and messy. But it’s real.

And I hope, if you’re reading this and walking through your own health challenge, you feel a little less alone.

Thanks for being here. I’ll be sharing more soon.

xoxo Grayce