When I was growing up, I LOVED adventure. Running and riding bikes on the trails through the woods behind the hundred-year-old Minnesota farmhouse I grew up in, chasing my Dad on my tiny cross-country skis as he trained for the famous Birkebeiner race, and riding horses with my Mom gave way to competitive running, skiing, ultimate frisbee, and cycling pursuits in my high school and college years, and voraciously climbing the high mountains of Colorado as soon as I was old enough to leave home.
I loved adventuring outdoors more than anything.
But I was ALWAYS getting injured. Having to sit out of high school cross-country races because of severe shin splints, stress fractures, and knee pain, spending many of my formative years in physical therapy, ending so many of my mountain adventures in tears through my early 20's because my legs were in so much pain. I couldn't understand it.
Why, when my heart and mind wanted so badly to be so active, was my body not cooperating?
Sometime in my college years, I finally ended up being evaluated by three separate orthopedic surgeons. "Miserable malalignment syndrome" was my diagnosis. Each of them said some version of "you shouldn't do endurance sports at all, and definitely not running!"
Miserable malalignment syndrome?!
I was crushed. To me, that sounded like a death sentence. In simple terms, miserable malalignment syndrome is what they call it when your upper legs and your lower legs rotate at opposing angles, putting a huge amount of stress on the joints of your lower body, especially your knees, and also the tendons and muscles that attach to them. It's a structural problem, due to the angles at which my femurs come out of my hip joints.
After being told there was nothing I could do, I dove into a deep depression and gained a bunch of weight. I truly thought my days of being an endurance enthusiast were over.
I decided to throw myself into rock climbing, which wasn't as hard on my joints. I enjoyed it, and it provided a new outlet for me to experience the outdoors which I loved so much. But my mindset, my body image, and my self-esteem were in the gutter.
Finally choosing to focus on intellectual pursuits rather than athletic pursuits, I decided to become a physical therapist so that I could help others work with the bodies they've got to improve their physical function and consequently their lives.
While I was pursuing my doctoral degree, a strange and wonderful thing happened: I started to learn about functional alignment and motor control. I learned that while we can't control how our body is structured, we can work around that and greatly improve our function by learning how to control our muscle activation and our movement patterns. And if we work to strengthen and mobilize our bodies in those healthy movement patterns, and get ourselves moving in optimal alignment, we can exponentially increase what we are able to do with our bodies.
Unexpectedly, while I was learning to help and heal others through movement, I also began to help and heal myself.
Fast forward over 12 years... filled with education, personal experience, invaluable mentorship under the direction of experts in sports medicine physical therapy, sports psychology, mind-body integration, yoga therapy, energy medicine, and athletic coaching, and diving into my own evolving practice as a physical therapist and performance coach...
...to today.
I've been a professional mountain bike athlete for the past nine years, netting over 25 career wins and podium finishes in multiple disciplines. I've planned and completed six expedition-scale adventure projects around the globe; combining bikepacking, mountain biking, mountain running, backcountry skiing, mountaineering, and packrafting. In 2019 I broke the women's record in the 750 mile Arizona Trail Race, a self-supported bikepacking and hiking traverse from Mexico to Utah. A few weeks ago I ran a nearly 40 mile backcountry traverse across the Sierra Nevada mountains over three days.
The reason I'm telling you this is to show you where I came from and what's possible. The 23 year old me who stubbornly dragged myself up and down mountains literally crying in pain, hating my body and wondering constantly if I should quit NEVER would have believed any of this was possible for myself. The now 37 year old me often has tears of gratitude for my strong, healthy body and what it's capable of in the outdoors. There is no feeling in the world like reaching the other side of an entire mountain range and saying to myself,
"I ran here. And I feel great."
And most importantly, I'm not the only one.
I helped myself for sure, but I began this journey in the first place to help others. Integrating all that I've learned and combining body and mind, science and soul; in the past 12 years I've coached thousands of people through their own journeys from pain and injury to optimal performance, to high levels of competition, and to fulfilling their own personal dreams of having a bold and adventurous lifestyle.
My passion and my life's mission is to meet people exactly where they're at, helping them work with their bodies and minds to become their best versions of themselves in their outdoor pursuits and in their lives. I'm still learning every day, developing and curating new practices to help us all achieve our goals. What I know to be true is this:
Movement, when done in healthy alignment, can be powerful medicine.
Whether you're a recreational adventurer or a competitor, whether you've struggled with pain or injury or you just want to avoid that in the future; whatever your age, your body type, or your perceived limitations, it is possible for you to feel strong, limber, confident, and capable in your body -- your permanent home in this lifetime.
I'm so excited to share my foundational principles with you, to help you start off on the right foot in creating your own personal success story. I'm not special -- I'm a normal everyday midwestern farm girl with miserable malalignment syndrome and big dreams. If I can learn to create an inspiring, adventurous, active life, so can you.
Welcome to the starting line.