I vividly remember eating everything off the Taco Bell dollar menu in the car with my best friend, standing through the sunroof, screaming Edwin McCain’s “I’ll Be” into the sky, wind whipping my hair as I used a burrito as a microphone. A KFC drumstick worked well, too.

For better or worse, I’m an all-in kind of person. Always have been… Here’s the myth I didn’t realize I was carrying, though, until my physical health demanded I set it down: that being a real writer meant being relentless.

There’s a common message they all seemed to communicate in on way or another, and it’s summed up nicely by Alysa Liu. I have a feeling many of her fellow Olympians share this perspective.

I’ve always written as a way to understand and express humanity, whereas now it feels more like I write as a way to connect with and celebrate it. That shift feels important.