Being a keynote speaker, I get to work with incredible event planners all the time—the real superheroes behind the scenes. Recently, everyone kept telling me: “You need to meet Liz.”

And they were right. Liz Lathan is not only a gem of a human, she’s also a powerhouse in the events world. She’s led global event teams, and today she runs Club Ichi, a community for event pros. I sat down with her to talk about what really goes on behind the scenes—the uncertainty, the pressure, the leadership—and what she shared is pure gold.

The Myth of Control in Events

Event planners are Type A by nature. Spreadsheets, clipboards, color-coded schedules—we thrive on control. But as Liz told me:

“You can never control everything. You can plan, but you can’t control. The best you can do is prepare for a loss of control.”

From weather disruptions to late VIPs (she shared a story about Bill Clinton showing up an hour late!), planners constantly face curveballs. The real magic? Preparing multiple “...

I used to stand in front of the mirror and think, "I should look better by now. I used to be so much stronger." Sound familiar? If you've ever caught yourself in this mental loop, you're not alone.

Here's the hard truth I've learned: If you can't love the body you're in right now, you won't magically love the body you're chasing either.

I know this might sound surprising coming from someone who's competed on American Ninja Warrior six times, but I've struggled with body image my entire life. In school, kids called me "manly" and made fun of my muscles. I wore baggy clothes to hide my body because I was terrified of being "too much." Even now, I sometimes catch myself wondering if I look too masculine or intimidating.

The difference today? I have those thoughts, but I don't live there anymore. I catch them, reframe them, and shift to kindness instead of critique.

The Only Body That Matters

The truth is, the only body you have is the one you're in right now. Not five years ago, n...

When's the last time you did something for the first time? Something that made your hands shake, your heart pound, and that little voice in your head whisper, "Could I really pull this off?"

I used to think I needed certainty before I could take bold action. I thought I needed a five-year plan, complete confidence, and a guarantee of success. But here's what I've learned after helping thousands of people achieve their first pull-up and watching them transform their entire lives in the process: going first isn't about being fearless—it's about being tired of waiting.

The Pull-Up That Changed Everything

I remember the first woman who walked into my gym, arms crossed, staring up at the pull-up bar like it was Mount Everest. "I've never done this before," she said. "I was told this wasn't for me." Sound familiar?

What happened next wasn't magic—it was methodical. We started with just hanging. Then a slight bend in the elbow. Progress, setback, progress again. The classic roller coas...

Picture this: You're gripping your steering wheel during another soul-crushing commute, asking yourself "Is this really it? Is this what I'm meant to be doing?"

That was me five years ago—biochemist by day, dreamer by night, completely lost in someone else's life.

I had everything that looked good on paper: a degree, a stable job, steady income. But inside? I felt like I was suffocating in stainless steel tanks and lab coats that never quite fit right.

The Day Everything Changed

One day, I made a decision that everyone called crazy: I quit my job with nothing but six months of rent saved up and zero business plan.

Zero.

No safety net, no clear direction, just pure, terrifying uncertainty.

And you know what? It was the best decision I ever made.

Why Your Breakdown Might Be Your Breakthrough

Here's what nobody tells you about uncertainty: it's not your enemy—it's your greatest advantage.

Think about your favorite songs. Were they written during perfect relationships and sunn...

I was sitting at my desk this week, trying to figure out why I felt so stuck. I'd been working hard, showing up, pushing through—but I still felt like I was running in place. Maybe you know that feeling?

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks: I'd been making everything WAY too big in my head.

Every goal, every emotion, every task—I was treating it all like I had to jump straight from where I was to pure perfection. And the second I didn't hit that impossible mark? I'd spiral, wondering why I couldn't just get my shit together.

But here's what I realized: The problem isn't that I'm not doing enough. The problem is I'm expecting myself to go from zero to a hundred.

When I first started training for Ninja Warrior, I'd look at what the top women were doing and think, "How will I ever get there?" I beat myself up for not being as fast or as strong, for not having all the answers RIGHT NOW. But the truth is, I had to break it down. I started with grip strength, then controlling my hangs...

This week, something hit me like a freight train. I was scrolling through my phone, avoiding the work I knew I needed to do, when this thought crashed into my consciousness: Angela, you've been saying the same thing for like two years now.

The same promises. The same "this is the week I'll finally break through." The same big dreams that I talk about but never actually pursue. And suddenly, I felt like the biggest fraud in the world.

My friends have been listening to me talk about these massive visions—keynote speaking, building my business, becoming this powerful leader I see in my mind. But here I was, still stuck in the same patterns, still breaking promises to myself over and over again.

You know what's terrifying about breaking a promise to yourself? It gets easier every time. One broken promise becomes two, becomes ten, becomes a way of life. And before you know it, you don't trust yourself anymore. You don't believe you're actually capable of doing hard things.

I sat with...

I'm going to be brutally honest with you about something that nearly destroyed my confidence as an athlete and entrepreneur.

When I first started competing on American Ninja Warrior, I would watch the top female athletes demolish every obstacle like it was child's play. Meanwhile, I was struggling, grinding, and questioning if I was even built for this. The same thing happened in gymnastics – I was never the girl who got skills on the first try. I had to break down every single movement and drill it until my body finally understood.

But here's what really hit me: I lost before I won. I had to become the person who was ready to win.

And honestly? Building my business has been even harder than any athletic challenge I've ever faced. There have been launches where I've crushed it, and launches where I've gotten my ass completely kicked. And you know what I'd do? I'd look around at other entrepreneurs who seemed to have it all figured out and wonder what the hell I was doing wrong.

I'll never forget the sound.

That pop. That sickening, career-ending pop that echoed through the American Ninja Warrior course as my ACL tore on national television. One second I was flying through the air, unstoppable and invincible. The next, I was crumpled on the ground, staring at the ceiling lights while cameras captured every moment of what felt like my dreams dying.

But here's the thing about rock bottom—it gives you a solid foundation to build on.

Lying there in that moment, I had two choices. I could let this injury define me as the girl who got hurt on TV, or I could become something else entirely. I could be the first person I knew to come back stronger than before.

I chose to be the first.

What Does It Really Mean to Be First?

Being first isn't about winning some competition or beating other people to the finish line. It's about being the first person in your own mind to believe something impossible is actually possible.

It's being the first in your family to star...

A few weeks ago, I had one of those moments that stops you dead in your tracks. I was speaking at an event, sitting on a panel, and I did what I always do—I introduced myself by talking about my messaging, my work, the problems I solve for people. Simple, humble, professional.

Then I sat back down, thinking I'd nailed it.

But my friend had other plans. He literally grabbed the microphone from someone else, stood up in front of the entire audience, and called me out.

"Angela," he said, "you didn't say anything about what you've achieved. You didn't mention helping thousands of women get their first pull-up. You didn't talk about being a six-time American Ninja Warrior competitor. Nothing about being Miss Fitness America or being on three fitness magazine covers. You're sitting here like a regular attendee, but you've done things that 99% of people in this room have never done."

I sat there, stunned. He was absolutely right.

Here I was, someone who literally teaches confidence an...

A few weeks ago, multiple women approached me saying the same thing: "Angela, you look different. You look... lighter." They weren't talking about my physical appearance—they were sensing something deeper. A shift in my energy. A weight I was no longer carrying.

They were right. I had been suffocating myself with the pressure to make everything happen exactly as I envisioned it.

The Moment Everything Changed

I was launching something in my business, and I wanted it to succeed so badly. I was clinging to this idea that if I just pushed harder, forced it to happen, it would magically fall into place. But the more I forced, the more resistance I created. It felt heavy, frustrating, and honestly, it was sucking the joy out of what I was doing.

Then I made a decision that changed everything: I released my death grip on the outcome.

I started asking myself different questions:

• What if I stopped forcing things?
• What if I just allowed things to unfold?
• What if I released the press
...