Every September, the same thing happens in my coaching practice. The trail runs get rained out, the evening light shrinks, and one by one my clients start asking about the same machine — the one gathering dust in the corner of their gym while they wait in line for a treadmill. By October, half of them have a rowing machine in their living room, and every single one of them asks me why they waited so long. I felt the same way in college, when my heptathlon coach stuck me on an erg for the entire off-season to protect a…
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There was a season of my life when I trained twenty-two hours a week. Two-a-day track sessions, lifting blocks at six in the morning, plyometrics while the dew was still on the infield. I was chasing an Olympic heptathlon qualifying mark, and my entire worldview could be boiled down to three words: more is better. It wasn’t, by the way. More was what left me with a stress fracture in my left tibia and a very humbling conversation with my coach about recovery — but that’s a story for another day. So when a new study crossed my desk this…
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Here’s something I don’t say at parties: the most important workout of my week is also the least impressive one. Nobody films it. Nobody cheers. On paper, it’s a 47-year-old woman marching up a gentle hill while a podcast plays in her ears, occasionally reciting Shakespeare out loud to nobody. And yet this unglamorous session — and three others like it — did more for my health than any gut-busting interval set I’ve done in the last decade. I spent my twenties chasing an Olympic berth in the heptathlon and missed it by a margin so small I can still…
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There is a moment every late August when I catch myself checking the long-range forecast for mountain ranges I will not stand on for another six weeks. My husband finds it endearing. My coaching clients find it excessive. The team I train with has simply stopped asking why I am squinting at October precipitation charts before Labor Day. Here is the thing, though: the best trail season of the year is not won in September. It is won right now, in these last quiet weeks of summer, while everybody else is still at the lake. Fall is the open secret…
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There’s a specific moment I replay for every athlete who asks me whether their watch is good enough for heart rate training. It’s 6:14 on a Tuesday morning, I’m ninety seconds into the third round of rope slams, and I glance at my wrist: 132 beats per minute. Meanwhile, the elastic band strapped around my chest says 174. One of them is lying, and my legs already know which one. That gap — forty-two beats at the exact moment the data mattered most — is what kicked off a month-long experiment my team and I now call the dual-wear project.…
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Last Tuesday at seven in the evening, I laced up for my usual neighborhood loop and made it exactly four blocks before I noticed the streetlights flickering on above me. Two months ago, that same run happened under a sky so bright I wore sunglasses. Now I was squinting at cracked sidewalks and dodging shadows I couldn’t quite judge. My training partner laughed when I grumbled about it, but my coaching brain was already doing the math: we are entering the six-week stretch where daylight disappears at roughly two minutes per day, and most people don’t adapt until their routine…
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For fifteen years of competitive track and field, I had a dirty little secret: I spent more time in physical therapy than I did on the track some months. Don’t get me wrong — my PT was incredible. But at $200 a session, twice a month, I was essentially funding a small mortgage on my own connective tissue. When I transitioned out of competitive athletics and into coaching, I realized most of the people I worked with couldn’t afford that kind of investment. So I went on a mission to build a home mobility toolkit that could handle 80% of…
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I’m going to tell you something that would have sounded like blasphemy to twenty-five-year-old me. Six months ago, I voluntarily took apart my beloved squat rack, sold the pieces to a guy named Dennis from Craigslist, and replaced the entire setup with a single cable machine. After two decades of track training, coaching, and building home gyms that looked like miniature commercial facilities, I did the one thing I swore I’d never do. I went all-in on cables. And honestly? My training has never been better. My clients agree. The functional trainer sitting in that four-foot span of wall where…
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I have a confession that might surprise you. After twelve years of coaching, after testing every wearable, supplement stack, and recovery gadget that crossed my desk — the five habits that moved my health markers the most were embarrassingly simple. No cold plunge required. No $400 device. No supplement that tastes like damp cardboard. Just five boring, unglamorous, repeatable practices that I almost dismissed because they seemed too basic to actually work. My team and I spent the better part of this past spring pulling apart my last decade of training logs, sleep data, and bloodwork. We wanted to know…
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Every January, gyms fill with people who made resolutions. By March, those same gyms are ghost towns. I’ve watched this cycle repeat for over fifteen years of coaching, and I’m here to tell you something that might surprise you: January is the worst time to rebuild your fitness. August is where the magic happens. I learned this the hard way. After missing my Olympic qualifying mark in the heptathlon by a margin so small it still stings, I spent most of that summer sulking. I didn’t train. I didn’t eat well. I barely left my apartment. Then one muggy August…