Because of all our snow days this week, I did a few home workouts while things were still shut down. I even recorded one and posted it online. Not exactly my forte, but as a trainer, I felt like I should. Instagram reels and I are still getting acquainted—technology and I are on a first-name basis, but not exactly best friends.
One of my athlete friends commented on the medals hanging in my home gym, joking, “You must be an athlete or something.” I had to laugh. He knew me back in my bodybuilding phase. Yep, that was a thing.
And it made me realize—I don’t think I’ve ever really shared my athletic journey, the “iron” in “ironyogini,” in a blog post. So, here we go! Get ready, folks. This is a read and much longer than my standard 300-400 word posts. I promise to (hopefully) still keep it somewhat entertaining!
The Early Days: Avoiding Sports at All Costs
Growing up, I was not an athlete. I was your quintessential introverted classical musician. “Oh, she plays piano.” Sports that involved my hands? Absolutely not. I dabbled in track and soccer, mostly to get out of my introverted shell. Spoiler: I was not a standout. In college, I cautiously explored the campus gym—mostly sticking to the safety of the cardio machines and avoiding any area where people were grunting under heavy weights. As a performance major, my hands were basically insured assets, so lifting anything heavier than a textbook felt like a career risk.
The Accidental Marathoner
After college, I moved to Northern VA for a teaching position at a local high school (shoutout to my Fairfax County folks—Edison HS!). At the time, I was teaching group piano, and the music department chair was deep in training for an Ironman. She had the brilliant idea of running the Marine Corps Marathon that fall. As a team. Because, you know, bonding.
It also happened to be the 30th anniversary of the race, and my brother had just joined the USMC, so I thought, why not? What could it hurt? I’d done a little running in the past. In my haste, I signed up without fully knowing how long a marathon actually was. I kid you not.
And then I found out.
26.2 miles?! Excuse me, what?!
Panic mode activated, I rushed to Borders Bookstore (yes, my favorite when they existed) and picked up a copy of The Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer. I’m not even joking. That book became my training plan. And somehow—miraculously—it got me to the finish line, using a run/walk strategy. Final time: 6 hours, 8 minutes, and 5 seconds. (Yes, I have a plaque. Yes, I display it proudly in my home gym.)
And just like that, I was hooked. There was something about running that just clicked—the solitude, the meditative rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other, the simplicity of lacing up your shoes and just going. Oh, and the energy of race day? Absolutely electric.
(Side note: None of my music department peers actually ended up running it. Just me. Classic.)
Becoming a (Sort of) Runner
And just like that, I entered Larissa’s Marathon Era. I ran four more, eventually clocking a personal best of 3 hours and 37 minutes—fast enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon! (Which I then proceeded to miss the enrollment for. Doh!)
I will say, 8-minute-mile runners are an entirely different breed. Their vibe? Laser-focused, efficient, and somehow still looking fresh at the finish line. Meanwhile, we back-of-the-packers are out there vibing, high-fiving spectators, and aggressively bonding over shared suffering. Totally different experience. 10/10 recommend.
After a while, though, I started feeling the itch to try something new. Running was great, but I wanted more. Ultramarathons? Not quite ready for that level of madness. (Yet.) I needed a different kind of challenge…
The Ironman Saga
Enter: Larissa’s Triathlon Era.
Like so many others, I found myself glued to the NBC coverage of the Ironman World Championships in Kona—soaking in all the heartwarming stories of athletes overcoming impossible odds. People like you and me. People missing limbs. Cancer survivors. Absolute warriors. And in my infinite wisdom, I thought, Well, if they can do it, surely I can, too. Right?
So, I set a goal: Complete an Ironman before turning 30. I was 28 at the time, which meant I had two years to figure out how to swim, bike, and not die.
Step one: Get a coach. Because let’s be real—I had no clue what I was doing. My swimming was strictly of the don’t drown variety, and my biking experience was limited to childhood joyrides and basic transportation. If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it right—proper technique, good form, fancy gear, nutrition strategies—the whole deal.
When I told my coach my goal and timeline, he basically took a deep breath, sized me up, and said he’d only take me on because I’d already run marathons. (Or is it “had some marathons in my legs”?) Either way, challenge accepted.
Fast forward to 2009—Ironman Lake Placid. 140.6 miles later, I crossed the finish line in 15 hours, 53 minutes, and 59 seconds. (Cutoff was 17 hours. Yep, back-of-the-packer again. But guess what? I FREAKIN’ DID IT!)
Along the way, I raced in a handful of local sprint and olympic distance triathlons and two half-Ironmans as part of my training. And I genuinely loved the sport. Open-water swimming? Thrilling. Scenic bike rides? Gorgeous. Long runs? A runner’s dream.
Things I did not love:
- Two-a-day workouts.
- Dragging myself out of bed at 4 AM to jump into a freezing pool.
- Giving up entire weekends to long rides and runs (and the chaffing!).
- Feeling like I got run over by a truck after said long rides and runs.
But in the end? Totally worth it.
Completing an Ironman was a “check-the-box” experience for me. Would I ever do it again? Absolutely not. Hard. Pass. I gave it my all, crossed that finish line, and happily retired from that level of endurance madness.
The Yoga Chapter
And just like that, the triathlon phase was complete.
Next up? A change of pace—literally.
When I moved to Old Town Alexandria, I just so happened to live directly across the street from a yoga studio. (Shoutout to anyone who remembers Pure Prana Yoga on King St.!) It felt like fate. I started taking classes, and honestly? It was exactly what I needed at that point in my life.
Enter: Larissa’s Yoga Era (a.k.a. “The Yogini Years”).
I got so into it that I started cleaning the studio one night a week in exchange for a free membership—because nothing says commitment like trading elbow grease for downward dogs. Eventually, I took it a step further and completed their 200-hour Holistic Yoga Teacher Training in 2010. And it was incredible.
Did I go on to teach a ton of classes? Not really. But yoga has remained a huge part of my life—even if, these days, my practice is mostly just squeezing in a few sun salutations before sprinting to the gym.
From Endurance to Strength: The Bodybuilding Experiment
Which brings me to my next adventure: Larissa’s Bodybuilding Era.
After years of endurance sports, I finally stumbled my way into a gym. Why? Because I was tired of being all sinew and zero curves. My body had taken a beating from all that cardio—I even lost my period for a while—and I wanted to, as I so eloquently put it, “plump out” a bit.
So, like any determined person in the early 2010s, I bought some books, scoured the internet, and attempted to decode the mysterious world of weightlifting. You know—the one where people actually used all that intimidating gym equipment I had previously avoided like the plague.
Eventually, I started getting the hang of it and making gym friends. One of them happened to be training for a bodybuilding competition and invited me to come watch her show. She was competing in the bikini division, and I was mesmerized by the athletes—their confidence, their muscle definition, the sheer level of dedication. And just like that, I thought: Yep. I want to do THAT.
So, staying true to my go big or go home personality, I hired a coach. Actually, several coaches over time. I learned how to train properly, eat for muscle growth, and embrace the art of lifting heavy things. (Whenever someone compliments my arms, this is why. That, plus good genetics.)
From 2013 to 2014, I competed in the figure division and did pretty damn well—placing top 5 in nearly all my competitions and even winning a first-place trophy. (Yes, I have one. No, I don’t casually display it next to family photos.)
But here’s the thing: bodybuilding is literally a business. And an expensive one at that. So, like all my previous pursuits, it became another “phase.”
That said… I always told myself I’d return to the stage post-baby. And, well, here we are. Am I quite ready? No. Will it happen? Probably.
My husband, however, is very ready—mainly because he loves cooking and can’t wait to meal-prep for my macro needs. (Yes, I know how lucky I am!)
Also, those 5-inch heels we strutted around in? We called them “stripper heels” as a joke. And yes, I still have a pair. Just in case.
Obstacle Course Racing: My Favorite Phase (So Far)
So here we are—past the endurance phase, past the bodybuilding phase, and now just trying to “be healthy.” Whatever that actually means. Eat some veggies? Lift some weights? Avoid eating an entire pizza in one sitting? Who knows.
I spent more time in the gym, focusing on getting stronger, but I also felt like I needed some direction. Because let’s be honest, just “working out” with no goal? Not really my style.
Now, what exactly happened between 2015 and 2018? Oh, that’s right—I met my husband, got married, and basically just maintained my fitness without any race goals in mind. (Love will do that to you.)
And then… I heard about Spartan Races.
Enter: Larissa’s Obstacle Course Racing Phase.
THIS was it. It combined functional training, running (but with a purpose!), climbing, crawling, swinging on monkey bars, and getting absolutely covered in mud. Plus, the camaraderie of the sport? Chef’s kiss.
So, in 2019, I did my first Stadium Race—with my husband!—and was instantly hooked. Then I heard about the “Trifecta” challenge—completing all three Spartan Race distances in a single year. Obviously, I had to do it.
And I did. From May to August, I tackled all three races, got stronger, improved at obstacles, and fell even more in love with the sport.
The only thing I did NOT love? The burpees.
See, in Spartan Races, if you fail an obstacle, you have to do 30 burpees as punishment. Needless to say, I failed a lot of obstacles and did A LOT of burpees. Too many burpees. I was determined to get better so I wouldn’t have to suffer through them.
And then… the pandemic hit.
And just like that, phase over.
Pregnancy, Motherhood, and Finding a New Groove
Ah, pregnancy. A beautiful, life-changing experience … that I went through three times. Twice during the pandemic, only one of which resulted in an actual baby. (But that’s a whole other story.)
During this phase, it was all about taking care of my body. Staying strong and fit, but nothing too wild. No Spartan races or Ironman-level insanity this time around. It was all home workouts, stretchy leggings, and doing what needed to be done.
The result? A relatively smooth pregnancy, a beautiful baby boy, and a physically uneventful postpartum recovery. (Mentally? That’s another story. Hello, sleep deprivation.)
Here’s the thing, though: going into pregnancy strong and fit definitely helped with recovery, but it still took a while. No one warns you about that. There’s this weird misconception that if you’re fit before pregnancy, you’ll just “bounce back” like one of those cartoon springs. Spoiler alert: not true.
Once our son was born in 2021, my husband and I went into full lockdown mode. We were playing it very safe, limiting exposure to, well, pretty much everything. So, my workouts stayed at home. Lots of baby snuggles, lots of creative home fitness routines, and lots of longing for gym life.
But by 2023, I knew I wanted to get back to it. Enter: Mom Friends™—one of whom told me about this gym called Burn Boot Camp, which not only had killer workouts but also childcare included in the membership.
Game. Changer.
Burning Bright: Today
I joined Burn Boot Camp in May 2023, and I was hooked from day one. THIS was what I had been looking for. THIS was my thing. The workouts? Challenging. The energy? Addictive. And the best part? The built-in community I didn’t even realize I was so desperately missing as a stay-at-home parent.
Fast forward a year, and I’m not just a member—I became a Burn Boot Camp trainer in May 2024. And I. LOVE. IT.
So when people comment on my arms while I’m cranking out pull-ups or swinging kettlebells, THIS is my story. All of it. The years of hard work, the different training styles, the phases that shaped me—it all brought me here. And I’m so incredibly grateful for this journey.
The people I’ve met, the things I’ve accomplished, the moments where I’ve surprised myself by doing things I never thought possible—wow. Just, wow.
I thrive on discipline and working toward a goal—that’s always been my thing. Right now, I’m in a bit of a limbo. Sure, I’m focused on being the best trainer I can be, working on my double-unders, getting to 10 unassisted pull-ups (no big deal, right? 😉). But I can feel it—a little itch in the back of my brain.
I don’t know what’s next yet. More Spartan races? A different kind of functional fitness competition? No clue. But I know that when I see it, I’ll know.
Strength doesn’t come from what you can do. It comes from overcoming the things you once thought you couldn’t. ~Anonymous
For now, I’m just trying to trust the process (my all-time favorite mantra) and not stress about not having a big goal on the horizon. It’ll come. It always does.
So there you have it. That’s my fitness journey. If you’re still reading this—wow, thanks! I just wanted to give some context to how I got here, since I know I tend to write more on the “yogini” side of my “IronYogini” persona.
But make no mistake—every phase, every rep, every drop of sweat? It all led me here. 💙