I am a hedonist when it comes to fitness, food, art, and adventure in New York City, and the world. I work out and race because I love the feeling: power, endorphins, productive pain. I see movement as celebration and therapy, food as art and love, creativity as our most human impulse, and travel as a way of awakening and coming home to ourselves, to each other.

I seek out and create moments and practices that unite body, mind, and spirit at a brilliant pulse. Here are some stories from that rhythm.

Full Bodied Yes

This race took every vein, every breath, every member of my peloton to finish. And it gave the gift of unearthing reserves of strength we don't tap often enough.

Ironman is an eating competition, a balancing act between fuel and full. A nonstop confession that we are dependent creatures, as much as a screaming declaration of independent strength. And a mind game. The hardest part isn't the last 6 (or 26 or 140.6) miles. It's doing it all without music, my heartbeat. Nothing to mine but muscle, spirit, silence. Favorite sign along the course: 'Learn to suffer but never surrender.' Make peace with fire. Let it devour all that does not serve.

SPENT. Ecstatically. Dreaming of what's next.

Ironman Mallorca was a journey big enough for my life this year. What's yours?