My Story

I still remember standing on the start line of my very first cross-country race in high school. My stomach was in knots, my legs felt shaky, and I wasn’t even sure if I belonged there. When the gun went off, I ran with everything I had — and finished second to last.

My mom and I celebrated anyway, because I didn’t come last. My team was still cheering for me as I crossed the line, and for the first time, I felt like I had found something that was mine.

The truth is, I wasn’t athletic. I was the kid no one wanted on their team because I couldn’t throw, catch, or kick a ball. But running was different. Running didn’t care if I was “good at sports.” It only asked me to keep showing up. So I did. Rain, snow, or shine, I went to every practice.

Finding My Place

When cross-country ended after my second year, I didn’t want to lose all the fitness I’d worked for. So I joined a city track and field team. I still remember showing up and feeling completely out of place. I questioned if I really “belonged” — because I didn’t look like the skinny, fast runners with cute sports bras (the bigger sports bra’s that I needed weren’t as cute) and matching run kits. I was slower, less confident and had bigger thighs that chafed. But showing up anyway taught me that consistency beats comparison. I didn’t have to look like the other runners in order to get faster.

Week by week, I got stronger. By my last two years of high school, I was finishing top 10 in city races. Qualifying for provincials for the first time — earning my spot on the team that got to travel — was a breakthrough moment. For the girl who had always been picked last, this felt huge. I was SO proud. I had found something I was actually good at.

New Doors

When I entered university, two new chapters opened: strength training and triathlon.

I was nervous stepping into the weight room for the first time, but a friend went with me, and we figured it out together. That one choice opened a big door — not only did I become stronger, but it sparked a lifelong curiosity about how to train better.

Triathlon pulled me in next. Suddenly, my running became an advantage. I was a weak swimmer, I could hold my own on the bike, but once I hit the run course, that’s where I really started to climb the leaderboard.

My big dream was to qualify for the ITU Age Group World Championships. To my surprise, I did it at my very first major triathlon. The following year, I boarded a plane to London, England for my first Worlds — an experience that pushed me so far out of my comfort zone that it remains one of my proudest memories.

The biggest barrier, though, wasn’t training — it was financial. I didn’t have the money to cover travel, race fees, and the Team Canada kit. That’s when something extraordinary happened: the husband of one of my mom’s coworkers heard about my qualification and wanted to help. His company, Prime West Mortgage, sponsored my entire trip — flights, hotel, and race entry. Without his generosity, I wouldn’t have been able to go.

He continued to sponsor me for the next three years, allowing me to race across Canada and compete at two more World Championships in Edmonton and Chicago. That support didn’t just fund my races — it gave me the chance to keep chasing a dream I thought was out of reach.

Shifting Priorities

After my first Worlds in London, I took a semester off school — the race fell right at the start of the term, and I knew I couldn’t balance both. When I came back, a hip injury kept me from running cross-country in my final year. For months after I got home, it was very strange to see 4:30pm show up on the clock Monday/ Wednesday/ Friday and not be at running practice. However, I turned my attention to something new: moving to Spain to pursue a Master’s in Strength and Conditioning.

Spain was exhilarating. I joined a local triathlon team, raced across the country, and even earned a spot on their race squad. Competing in new places, with new people, was pure fun. But it also marked the beginning of a shift. Once the season wrapped up in early summer, I stopped training consistently and focused more on exploring Spain and Portugal — from running with the bulls in Pamplona to joining the world’s largest tomato fight at La Tomatina (and of course, finishing my thesis). Running, for the first time in 8 years slid down my list of priorities.

Coming Home

When I moved to Calgary for a strength and conditioning internship, running took an even bigger back seat. My focus completely shifted to coaching. I spent 6–7 days a week in the gym — not chasing PBs anymore, but learning the craft of coaching. Not just theory, but the practical skills that would shape my career.

I threw myself into the local running community, giving free presentations, volunteering at races, leading group runs, and sharing training tips with anyone who would listen. I wanted so badly to help people discover what running could give them.

But the reality was tough. Gym fees were high, and even though I was one of the top recruiters, I was barely covering rent and food. Eventually, I had to move on.

I worked as an exercise physiologist and strength coach at another private sports center, but deep down I knew I wanted something more. I’ve always had an entrepreneurial spirit — I didn’t want to follow someone else’s rules. I wanted to build something of my own. That was the seed that grew into the business I run today.

And I’ve experienced the moments that make coaching worth everything. Like the runner who could barely run a block, but eventually went from a 5+ hour marathon to a 3:07, fast enough to qualify for Boston. When he crossed the line, we were both in tears.

Who I Am Today

Over the years, I’ve gone deep into the science — earning a Master’s, and now finishing a PhD in Exercise Physiology and Sport Nutrition. I know the research on VO₂ max, lactate thresholds, and recovery inside out. But what I’ve learned is that science isn’t the magic trick.

The breakthroughs don’t come from complicated formulas. They come from the basics, done well: running consistently, strength training to stay healthy, fueling properly, and recovering fully.

That’s the philosophy I coach with today.

I’ve been the runner who had no idea what she was doing. I’ve been the athlete chasing world championships. And I’ve been the coach watching people light up when they realize they’re capable of more than they ever imagined.

Outside of running, my life is full and grounded. I live in Calgary now with my partner and our dog — who we once thought would be the perfect running buddy, but has decided she prefers leisurely walks. I’ve learned to appreciate those dog walks as a time for me to get some fresh air just as much as training runs.

At the end of the day, running isn’t just exercise. It’s a way to transform your confidence, your habits, and your life. And that’s what I want every runner I coach to experience.