Five years ago I wore big girl pants and high heels and took a bus down to my job in the financial district of San Francisco every day. I had an office in a tall building that had a fast elevator—one that shot up to the 21st floor so quickly it made your ears pop. I had a big apartment, lots of toys, and a great group of friends. We leased ski homes in the winter, rented booze buses in wine country in the summers. This was the American Dream, right?
Problem was, it was someone else’s dream, and I could never shake the feeling that my own were being deferred. I would stare out the windows of the bus that took me to work every day, tired of being entertained. Wanting a real adventure.
So I quit the cushy job. Sold and packed my things. And I went.
I pressed buttons that ran chairlifts and hucked booters on my snowboard in New Zealand. I became a scuba dive master and learned to tie a bowline knot and change outfits underwater in Honduras. I longboarded all over Sydney and learned to drive stick shift in a vineyard in Australia. I pushed burgers at 10,000 feet in Aspen and racked up a 100-day ski season.
Eventually, I landed in the outdoor mecca of Boulder, Colorado. Until recently, I worked as the content editor for TrainingPeaks, creating training content for cyclists, triathletes, and runners. In February, I left my job to pursue writing full-time.
When I’m not sitting in front of my Mac muttering and typing, I’m racing mountain bikes, skiing inbounds and out, drinking too much coffee from the French Press, and plotting elaborate escape schemes. Currently, I’m spending the summer in Chamonix, France.
The journey keeps rolling, even when your “big trip” is over. And I love every minute of it.