Burnout recovery coach with curly hair smiling, wearing red shirt against yellow background.

ABOUT KIM

I WASN’T broken, I WAS BURNT OUT

The worst advice I ever got was: “Success is a little like wresting a gorilla. You don’t quit when you’re tired. You quit when the gorilla is tired.”

I pushpinned that little piece of paper into the corkboards of at least seven different jobs over fifteen years before I finally realized it made no sense for my life.

Because if you plant that seed in the head of a twenty-two-year-old athlete entering the real world with a taste for challenge, a problematically high pain tolerance, and unusually large quads (literal, metaphorical) - say goodbye to balance. 

Say hello to years of No Pain, No Gain; If It Hurts, it Works; of Don’t Believe a Word Your Body Tells You - until you’re crawling across the finish line of yet another job you thought you loved, a lump of apathy, exhaustion, and cognitive mush. 

Say hello to burnout.

MY MOTTO IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE

“ACCEPT CHANGE WHEN IT happens.

LIGHT FIRES when it NEEDS TO.”


Who I am Behind the Screen

Burnout recovery coach performing a deadlift with a barbell in a home gym setting.

fACT 01

Powerlifter and recovering rower

Burnout recovery coach wearing sunglasses and a yellow shirt, inside a vehicle with a blurred background.

Fact 02

Queer twin mom with experience in neurodiverse parenting

Burnout recovery coach smiling with mug saying 'Talk data to me'

Fact 03

Health equity + racial justice data leader

Coffee mug with scientific equations, French press, and tea infuser on a desk.

Fact 04

I drink… a LOT of tea.


I’m writing vulnerable things about myself on the internet because it didn’t have to be that hard for me - and it doesn’t have to be that hard for you, either.

Burnout wasn’t the problem - burnout was just information.

It was many flashing warning signs that I ignored for a long time. 

Fortunately, I eventually listened.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the many years when:

  • I snapped at my kids, whose moods tracked mine, sending us all spiraling

  • My memory lapsed, I couldn’t remember names, people, basic facts

  • My hair started falling out

  • I consistently woke up at 3am, for the day, and fueled myself with caffeine and adrenaline, telling myself I was “totally fine”.

  • I always wore my down jacket in the house because my overtaxed body couldn’t warm itself

  • My heart arrhythmia kicked up, fluttering all day long

I only listened when I pushed beyond denial: As I was teetering on the edge of burnout, I took a leadership role in our state’s COVID response and flung myself off Burnout Falls.

Months and months of high pressure, high visibility, seven-day work weeks finally did for me what years of quiet early burnout symptoms could never do.

I slumped across the finish line of 2020, entered the new year an exhausted, wasted shell of myself, still unclear what was happening - but determined to never, ever feel this way again.

_______

With practical, evidence-backed practices, I taught myself to:

  • Genuinely rest, reset, and regenerate my nervous system - while living my life, in my job;

  • Build my self-awareness, reacquaint with what lights me up, and drop or bound what doesn’t;

  • With confidence and clarity, point this marvelously refurbished rocket to meaning and peace

________

Today, I wake up with joy, not dread. My exercise is paced and my days are unrushed. Work feel playful.

This is possible for you too - if you know you’re built for better, and you’re ready to commit.

What would I tell my twenty-two-year-old self?

Or my thirty-five-year-old self who was about to freefall off Burnout Falls?  Besides “forget the gorilla wrestling advice ASAP”, I’d say:

Ask yourself better questions.

Instead of: How do I survive, how do I keep up, how do I find another splinter of time in the day?

I’d ask:

  • What meaning would “surviving” bring to your life? 

  • What important parts of yourself might get left behind?

  • What consequences might that have for the future?

Or instead of:

  • How can I take the edge off the fear of failure; the pain of misalignment, overwork, and pursuit of goals that bring little meaning to my life?

  • What do I do with all this physical agitation? 

  • WHEN IS MY NEXT CROSS FIT CLASS AND WHY IS IT NOT RIGHT NOW?

I’d ask:

  • If you didn’t have your favorite coping mechanisms, what *would *you have? 

  • And what would that tell you about what’s not working, right now?

  • What would you be doing instead if you didn’t have to cope? 

Burnout doesn’t happen overnight.

It’s years of pushing through signals that something isn’t working.

Layer on a Big Thing - a job without boundaries, or meaning; the grind of working parenthood without support; or yet another moment of being asked to be someone you’re not - and you’ve got burnout.

The most damning thing about burnout is that it’s almost designed to hide itself from you. With anxiety-fueled sleeplessness and cognitive fog, it throws a blindfold over your eyes and marches you forward, further robbing you of self-awareness, judgment, and insight. 

You think the stress is normal, and it’s your fault.

That’s why having some outside help can be so useful. Coaching removes the blindfold and helps you walk the path you actually want to walk.


No gorilla wrestling required

The story doesn’t end there

The verdant forest

So how am I doing now?

Maybe you’re wondering because you want to know… what exactly am I aiming for? What’s realistic?

Lots of folks in burnout can’t imagine an easy, peaceful, thriving future.

They just know — this isn’t it.

I’m a work in progress, not perfection.

But bit by bit, you’ll see some of the most treasured changes I’ve noticed for myself:

  • I wake up with energy. I’m ready, excited, and grateful for the day, even when it involves sick kids or dentist visits or commutes.

  • Decisions are straightforward. It doesn’t mean they’re pain-free, but because I know and accept myself and have come to love even the “worst” parts of me with self-compassion, I know the answers, and don’t let indecision, rumination, and self-doubt drain my energy.

  • I get MORE done, and love my job: because I’ve designed work for me, but I don’t define my worth through my job. It’s a joy, not an obligation, and with that kind of genuine voluntary enthusiasm, “production” feels easy and prolific.

  • I’m a WAY better parent: Burnout recovery doesn’t just give me energy, it transformed every single one of my relationships — especially with my kids. I learned what co-regulation really meant, and how my energy WAS their enegy. I’m neither trying to gentle parent my way through conflict-avoidance, nor am I snapping and shaming them for developmentally normal experiences that I just didn’t want to deal with, or that came from my permissiveness. I set limits, have boundaries, show up full of laughs and possibility.

  • My relationships are thriving, interdependent, authentic — and mirrors for my growth. Self-awareness combined with the skills of self-compassion, loving boundaries, and ownership of the experience mean that I allow people to love me as I really am. My relationships are mutually chosen, thriving, and, when there are rough patches, they show me my next growth opportunities.

  • I have emotional agility. The goal isn’t 24/7 zen, folks. It’s just the ability to come back, quickly and genuinely (repression doesn’t count!). No more anxiety spirals and being hijacked by fear, shame, or anger. I’ve figured out how to notice and welcome feelings (even the hard ones), let them move through me, and come back to earth.

  • I have a life-giving sense of agency. Don’t sleep on this one: remember, burnout tells us we’re fine and don’t need help or changes, it tells us we’re stuck, trapped, this is life, don’t try to change. But that’s not me anymore: I am not the victim, the rescuer, the martyr. I’m the challenger, coach, creator, and I honor my loved ones as I live a life that spirals upward.

  • I am still me, but I honor my burnout tells. Listen. I’m an intensely loving, feeling, working person. That is just not going to change any time soon, and I love that about myself. But damn, does it make burnout a real Hazard of Existing. So I know now how to walk the lines and pull back, nap, say no with love, complete stress cycles, rejuvenate with self-compassion, and get back on the field.

  • Stressors don’t define me: I’m not floating through a peaceful bubble of bliss all the time. Life cranks up to level 10 still, and it sucks. But it is also not catastrophic, nor is it something I pretend is okay. I cut back on workouts (workouts = stress, even if its good stress). I nap more. I slow down. There is blank space. There are a LOT of walks and drives with nothing in my ears. I get less done for a little while. I cry. I grieve. I open up to my safe people.

    I let the hard stuff move through so it doesn’t take up residence.

    But guess what DOES move in? Threads of joy.

    Yes, even in the hardest of times, bright-eyed awe, belly laughs, and delight appear like life boats to carry you through the waves.

This is what burnout recovery can look like.

It’s always a work in progress. It’s always visiting your same weak spots, but each time with better tools, more self awareness, and the self-compassion to fuel the changes your overwhelmed, inner-critic-driven brain won’t dare let you consider right now.

Two bicycles on grass at sunset with scenic field background

What It’s Like to Work With Me