Colby—better known as Grumps—was my soul dog.

Some relationships shape you slowly over time. Others become so woven into your life that you can’t quite separate who you were before them from who you became after. Colby was that kind of presence for me.

He was with me through years of life changes, growth, and becoming. Through moves, career shifts, relationships, and the quiet everyday moments that make up a life. He wasn’t just there for the highlights—he was there for all of it. The mundane mornings, the long days, the nights when life felt uncertain, and the ones where everything felt possible.

Grumps had a personality that made people smile the moment they met him. Stubborn in the way only a dog with a big personality can be, expressive, and deeply loyal. He had this grounding energy that made everything feel calmer, steadier. When life moved too fast or felt overwhelming, he was the reminder to slow down and simply be.

Long before powerlifting became part of my life, Colby had already shaped who I was becoming. The patience he taught me, the responsibility of caring for something you love so deeply, the quiet understanding that love doesn’t need words to exist—those lessons stayed with me.

When I eventually found strength sports, that mindset followed me into the gym. Strength isn’t only built through muscle and repetition. It’s built through consistency, resilience, and the ability to keep showing up for something that matters to you.

In 2026, Colby passed away. Losing him changed me in ways that are difficult to fully put into words. Anyone who has loved a dog like that understands the depth of that bond—it’s unconditional, steady, and life-shaping.

But love like that doesn’t disappear.

It transforms.

That’s where Lifting for Grumps began.

What started as a tribute became something much bigger. Every time I approach the barbell, I carry the love and the lessons he gave me. The patience. The loyalty. The reminder to live fully and authentically.

I lift for the life I’ve built.

I lift for the person I’ve grown into.

And I lift for the dog who shaped so much of that journey.

Grumps may not physically stand beside the platform, but his legacy moves with every lift.

Because the truth is, I’m only me because of him.

And every lift carries love.