I designed the Skratch Labs Cookie Mix in my home kitchen, and when it came time to write directions on the packaging, everyone was asking questions about how long to bake the cookies.They wanted a specific time to bake them to make the “perfect” cookie. But that could never work because every oven is different, cookies bake differently at different altitudes and different climates, and different people like their cookies to have different textures. The only direction I could give was — “bake until golden.” Bake until they look perfect to you. Do it until it’s golden. This is a lesson from sport that applies to the kitchen; it applies to life.

You’re the ONLY one that knows if it was all you had if it was perfect. And, so, if that race, that cake, was perfect in your eyes than it is perfect in the world. Then it's GOLDEN. When I’m faced with a challenge, and I’m tempted to give up, I ask myself if it’s the best I can do, if it’s truly golden because I’ve baked it/worked it/loved it/tried it long enough. Is my relationship golden - the best it can be? Is that batch of cookies? If not, I’ll work at them, bake them, love them, DO them until they are…whenever that moment is. (#tilitsgolden)

A few years after I graduated and I found myself on Okinawa, Japan with my new husband. He was deployed almost constantly and I couldn’t get a Japanese work visa as a SOFA status military wife. I had my sights set on achieving a graduate degree back in the U.S. so my situation made me feel like I was lacking purpose. I missed my identity as an athlete. I started running marathons to have a goal and to keep fit and fill some time. Not long after, I purchased a used bicycle (that was two sizes too small) from another wife I knew (she had children and no time to ride it.)

I started taking the bike out to explore the island and kicked open a door to empowerment I could never have imagined. I would set out in the morning with a couple of water bottles and some yen and would pedal from one side of the island to the other, stopping along the way to take in the view, see little markets, pass through little villages and get snacks from vendors along my route. I’d return home at the end of the day realizing that all I needed to feel inspired was that bicycle.

One day, I saw a sign for a 70.3 triathlon on a neighbouring island and decided to sign up. So, I started training. I fulfilled every workout dutifully, cooked wholesome meals to satisfy my hard-working body. I took care of myself in a way that I wouldn’t have if I was just trying to get by every day. I went to the race, and won! The village showered me with rice and awamori and celebrity…I remember them placing a flower crown on my head and they asked me to wear it as I boarded the ferry back home. It was the craziest feeling.

Back at home, my curiosity piqued; my time was comparable to professional athletes racing 70.3 all over the world. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to compete against them, but I knew that I had MORE to put out on the course. I knew I could tackle challenges far bigger than I had given myself credit for. So, I set myself on a path towards full Ironman 6 months later. I liked the process of training and racing — I was stuck on an island, alone, frightened. But the training required me to be accountable for my well-being on a whole new level — so I kept at it. I won entry to the World Championships in Kona on my first try. I was hooked. I raced as a pro/elite endurance athlete for the next 9 years. I competed because I wanted to be the best I could be; set goals and achieve them. I became absolutely passionate about surprising myself, being comfortable with the uncomfortable and rising above it.

I knew nothing (I really mean NOTHING) about cycling or bicycles when I started. I remember the first time I got a flat tire on a training ride. I was sitting in the living room - alone - trying to pry the tire off with my bare hands. Then with a screw driver. Then with tears. Then with a beer. Then with YouTube. Changing that stupid tire was the best 8 hours (no joke) of my whole life. I had to sit in it, and know that I didn’t know anything….and I had to learn to handle that with grace.

The people I’ve chosen to surround myself with - both at home in Boulder and just in life - are all people who inspire me, and push me to be my best self; for others, in the world, and in my own life. My “tribe” is comprised of a curious, genuine, open group. They aren’t competitive, and they’re all GOING FOR IT. They’re entrepreneurs, trail blazers, open, honest, folks doing their best to honour their relationships, to explore the world, and all are folks who appreciate the simple things in life. Most of these good people I met while riding bikes, and I think of them as the bravest people on the planet. We don’t bring emotion to the bike, we don’t bring judgement or excuses or apologies. There’s no apology necessary if someone can’t make a ride, or someone wants to crush to the top ahead of the rest of us. There’s no need to explain if you want to stop to take a picture, smell the flowers or drink a beer. I feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by these folks who appreciate and care for me for who I am, who I want to be, and who I have been. We respect each other for being right where we’re at — no matter how fit we are.

I don’t have much interest in formal racing these days, but I do plan to stay fit so that I’m ready for any adventure that comes my way. The top of my adventure list? I’d love to return to the Dolomites and more deeply explore that region on a mountain bike. And I’d love to tour Kyoto on two wheels. I’ve always wanted to go to Iceland and I hear that a mountain bike is a great way to see that place…and some beach time would be pretty awesome. Plopping down on a beach in Mexico - not far from a great taco cart — sounds pretty good right now.