You Are Only Defeated...

You're Only Defeated the Last Time You Try

I was training with my coach one afternoon, trying every mental trick I could think of to get through a heavy set. At one point I said out loud, "This is easy—I haven't lifted anything at all. I can do this!" I was trying to wipe my mind clean of every rep I'd already done and convince myself the fifth set was my first.

I finished, feeling pretty proud of my little mind game. And my coach shook his head.

"You have to relate exercise to real life," he told me. "It IS hard. You've already lifted four sets to your max—and you know what? You still have more in you. Don't lie to yourself and say it's easy. Tell yourself it's hard. Tell yourself it's painful. And then tell yourself you still have more to give."

Then he loaded a machine to its absolute maximum. "I shouldn't be able to lift this," he said. "I've already maxed out. And when you reach this point, there are three sources of power you can draw from: yourself, your rechargeable self, or God—the ultimate source."

He looked that weight dead in the eye and said, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." And he lifted it twelve times. The intensity was staggering. I teared up watching him.

That, I thought, is what a true champion looks like—not someone who lies to himself about how hard life is, but someone who faces it head-on, tells the truth about the pain, and taps into the ultimate source of strength anyway.

The three sources of power

The first time my coach taught me about those three sources was actually on one of my hardest days—right after I'd stumbled badly with my nutrition plan while training for a competition.

I'd been so locked in. I'd asked him exactly what to eat and followed it to the letter—resisting the marshmallows on a camping trip, the birthday cake, the ice cream, all of it. Day after day I held the line, and it felt amazing. I was so confident that I even gave away most of my clothes, because between the weight I'd released and the muscle I'd built, everything was hanging off of me.

And then—bam. I lost it. I slipped, and then I spiraled, and I ate everything in sight, over and over.

That Monday, instead of working out, my coach and I just sat and talked for two hours. I told him how much shame I was drowning in. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

He had me read Hebrews 12:1–2—about laying aside every weight and running with patience the race set before us, "looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame." Despising the shame. Christ already carried the very shame that keeps us stuck with "failure" set on repeat. I didn't have to keep carrying it too.

"Fear comes when you feel alone," he told me. "But you have a team. Make a plan."

Then he explained the three sources of power, and I've never forgotten it:

1. A regular battery. It runs down, and when it's dead, it gets thrown away. That's willpower with no source behind it—it simply loses its charge.
2. A rechargeable battery. It bounces back for a while, but over the years it holds less and less of a charge. That's the person with tremendous willpower who slowly wears down and starts saying, "I'm just not who I used to be."
3. A power plant. This is the one that changed me. Instead of running on your own limited charge, you plug into God—the unlimited source. No more scrambling to recharge, no more running on empty. Settled, steady, and always powered, because you're connected to something that never runs out.

Then he said the line I now repeat to myself all the time:

"You're only a failure, and you're only defeated, the last time you try."

Standing behind Christ

A few more things stuck with me from that conversation.

He told me to build a cocoon of safety around myself while I was in the middle of transforming—and not to let anything bust through it before I was ready.

He stood behind a wall in front of me and stepped in and out of view. When he was behind it, I couldn't see him at all. "That's what standing behind Christ looks like," he said. "Anything that comes at you has to go through Him first."

And we talked about eagles—how they don't run from the storm. They fly straight into it and use the winds to lift themselves up and above it.

For a long time I'd told myself, in a hundred quiet ways, that I needed to hold onto a little extra padding to feel safe—as if it were protecting me. But it never was. Real protection, real strength, real safety were never going to come from anything I could build around myself. Only from the Source I plug into.

So here's to trying again—because that's the whole secret. You're only defeated the last time you try.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

With much love,

Steffi