In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who’s left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and the bad—plus why they decided to leave and what life looks like on the other side.

Here, we talk to Wendy McMahon, who stunned the media world last year when she resigned as CEO and President of CBS News and Stations. After four years leading the network news division through a period of profound transformation, she is now advising Beehiiv, a platform that connects independent reporters with major institutions and newsrooms. In this conversation, McMahon reflects on her decision to walk away, what leadership truly demands in moments of crisis, and what keeps her hopeful about the future of journalism.

What guided your decision to resign from CBS?

The company and I didn’t agree on the path forward. That is the reality. As a leader, as a CEO within an organization, when you sense misalignment, when you believe your vision and your values are at odds with how the business is moving—that’s your cue, right? Then you have a decision to make. And that's a deeply personal decision; I know it was for me. But once I recognized that we weren't aligned, then ultimately it became clear that I would end up resigning, which is what happened.

I think it always starts with your gut, that sense of unease. When you have that, I do think you have to challenge your gut and surround yourself with people who are going to be real truth-tellers versus your cheerleaders. And I think it’s important to really identify and know for yourself: Am I running from something, or am I running toward something? That’s how I ultimately arrived at that decision.

Can you share what that moment felt like for you?

It was equal parts exhilarating and painful, and those emotions compete within minutes, hours of each other. You have to acknowledge that you’re standing in the middle of a storm and you’re doing everything you can to keep your footing. I feel like the loss actually comes later. In the moment, you’re inundated with people who want to talk to you, with people who want to tell you how much you mean to them, how much your leadership meant to them, and then things become a bit more quiet. That’s, I think, where the loss piece kicks in.

But when you leave a role that demands so much of you, that requires you to be available 24/7, you suddenly realize how big the world is—how many people there are who are working on incredibly cool projects that you feel a connection with, that you feel passionate about, and you feel a fire start to burn. And so your loss is somewhat replaced with what could be, with what’s new.

What does leaving a big job look like when the stakes are so high?

When I was leading through a big transition moment for CBS News and Stations, and I was sharing my talking points for how I was going to introduce that change, I received a critique on some of my language, that “It's too emotional. It's too personal.” At that moment I thought, Wow, maybe I am showing too much humanity at this moment. Maybe I need to be a bit more stoic, a bit more reserved. That led to an imposter-syndrome thing.

But then I recognized…that’s insane. That's ridiculous. Because those talking points were emotional, they were personal, they were authentic—they were me. It was my attempt to bring light into darkness and to bring some calm to a day that I knew was going to be difficult. And the confidence to show up as a human, to show up as a compassionate leader, is more vital than ever. Especially when the only thing that separates us now, from a messaging standpoint due to AI, is our humanity.

When you look back, what makes you most proud of your tenure at CBS?

We successfully united local and network news teams to pair the trust and connection of local journalists with the unmatched quality of storytelling at CBS News. We transformed legacy brands and operations to create a 24/7 streaming news channel, and, in doing so, became number one in streaming minutes consumed in a year. We introduced data journalism, augmented and virtual reality, and beats focused on issues of importance—climate change, immigration—all to ensure we were designing CBS News and Stations for the next-generation viewer.

None of it would've been possible without the people of CBS News and Stations. And I will always be proud of what we built and of the extraordinary people and journalists and leaders that I was privileged to champion and advocate for.

There’s been a lot of discussion about CBS’s new editorial direction, including the decision to bring on Bari Weiss as editor-in-chief. What was your reaction?

I will always be cheering for CBS News and Stations. So much of my heart, of who I am, is there. I do think the future of news and information will be shaped by how institutions and independent journalists work together. Legacy newsrooms provide the scaffolding; they provide the reporting power and newsgathering sources. Independent journalists bring the scrappiness, the intimacy, the innovation, the personality. I think both are essential. What we can’t have is institutions collapse and, as a result, have newsgathering commitments—to international coverage, to local coverage, to investigative journalism—go away. So much of what we see in the opinion space is built off the reporting of institutions. So what happens when that reporting is not there?

So for me, independent journalism and the ascendance of it is not about replacing legacy news organizations, but about bringing in reinforcements and creating new pathways for credible journalism to survive. And ideally, to thrive. Whenever there's movement of that scale, whenever there's a change that significant, you're going to have quite a bit of reporting and quite a bit of attention paid to it. There's a lot of projection; there's a lot of forecasting. I believe the proof is in what the work ultimately is.

Where do you think legacy news is really heading?

The speed of change is unprecedented. If you look at today's landscape and what leadership looks like within that landscape, it's a high-wire act. First you have to lead with an ambitious vision: "This is what I believe journalism and storytelling will be in the next decade." But that's all while staying true to the mission of the place, the thing that makes people proud to come to work every day. In the case of CBS News, it was the commitment to fact-based, objective journalism, and the calling to public service. So as a leader, you are developing a vision that's future-forward, but you're grounding it in the purpose of the place.

Lesley Stahl said to me once that it's a privilege in this life to test your mettle. I agree with that wholeheartedly. Leadership gives you that privilege.

Is there something lighting you up in this new chapter of your career?

The opportunity to help create the future state of a business, of an industry, of work that I believe is so vital. I do believe that our democracy does not exist without freedom of the press. And so, I’m advising companies and brands on commercial, culture, commerce, and media growth opportunities including at Beehiiv, a newsletter platform empowering independent journalists and creators to succeed.

I’ve also been doing quite a bit of public speaking, and my favorite part of that work is the people I meet across this country who care so deeply about local news, about freedom of the press, about the state of institutions like CBS News, like ABC News and NBC News. People care about journalism. That’s so rejuvenating.

This story appears in Marie Claire's 2026 Craftsmanship Issue.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who’s left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and the bad—plus why they decided to move on and what life looks like on the other side.

Here, we speak with Nancy Pelosi, who is walking away from Congress after building one of the most formidable careers in U.S. politics. The 85-year-old California Democrat made history as the first woman to wield the Speaker’s gavel and led her party in the House for two decades. Last November, she announced she won’t run for reelection when her current term ends in January 2027. We sat down with Pelosi in her D.C. office this January to talk about the new generation of women claiming power, what keeps her up at night about this moment in Washington, and whether someone like her can ever truly leave politics behind.

What do you see when you look at the women in Congress today?

This is one of my favorite subjects, because when I came to Congress, there were only 23 women. I—having been chair of the California Democratic Party—knew how to elect people. And I said: “We're going to make a change here.” So part of the mission was to make sure that women had the opportunity, the confidence, the support that they needed to come here. If there had not been many women members, there would never have been a woman Speaker. This was not a place that was looking to advance others. You just had to go take the power. People say to me: “Well, you have five children, and you went to Congress and you became a Speaker.” But I did it sequentially. Mine were almost [all] in college. These women are raising their children while they’re doing this. And that’s quite remarkable.

What did it mean to be the first woman Speaker?

When I had my first meeting as Speaker, that’s a big deal. I mean, it was a very big deal. And people said to me after: “Do you realize how different that meeting would’ve been if a man had run it?” I mean, how many times have women said, “I was at the table and I made a suggestion and everybody was quiet, then a man made the same suggestion and they said, oh, that’s a great idea.” That has happened to women over and over. But I have concluded that the reason that happens is because they don’t listen to the women. Now we got the gavel. It’s a whole different deal. They listen.

Were there parts of yourself you had to change to lead in the way you have?

It’s important to know I never intended to run for office. People came to me and asked me to run, and I was like: “I have no ambition to run. I’m the chair of the party. That’s important to me because I like to promote other people, but I’m not one to be in the arena.” You know what changed? We lost in ’94, ’96, ’98. And it was like: “Wait a minute. We’re losing. We’re just losing!” I know how to win elections, so people said to me, “Now you have to take responsibility.” And then I did—because quite frankly, I was tired of losing. I never thought of any change in me about it, except that I wanted to win. I went to my daughter who was going to be a senior in high school and said, “Mommy has been asked to run for Congress. I had never had that ambition, but people are insisting that I run. I want to leave it up to you because you have one more year at home, Alexandra. If I win, I’d be gone like three nights a week when Congress is in session, and often for Christmas and all those holidays.” To which she said, “Mother, mother, get a life. What teenage girl doesn’t want her mother out of the house three nights a week?” So she and my husband get along just fine.

What do women in politics need to hear right now?

It’s the authenticity. I say this to women all the time: whatever it is—in terms of your upbringing, the environment in which you were raised, the education you have, the set of values that you bring to it—there’s nobody like you. So when you come here, your authenticity is what is important. Be you, be ready for what comes along. Have your vision, know what you’re talking about so you command respect, and have a strategy that attracts other people, and also shows them what is in your heart. The sincerity, the authenticity, the concern you have about other people. [If] you’ve listened to them, you’ve incorporated their concerns and aspirations into the solutions, you’ll succeed.

There’s a lot of anxiety around women’s rights right now. What do you think people aren’t fully grasping?

I think that a lot of people do not fully understand how it was before Roe v. Wade, and most of us didn’t, but we knew that it was necessary in the history of America. As a Catholic—[who had] five children in six years and seven days—my husband and I are thrilled with our family, but that’s our decision. I’m excommunicated from the church as a Catholic because I support a woman’s right to choose. And it is just amazing to me that so many people in the Congress don’t. And so many women in the Congress don’t support women’s right to choose. And when you eliminate something like that, it’s not just about terminating a pregnancy. It’s about what healthcare providers can provide for somebody who’s in a dangerous situation. This is what I will fight for, because it makes me almost cry to think what women have to undergo—because some guys decided that a woman shouldn’t have a right to choose.

Considering where we are politically right now, how do you feel about stepping away?

When I first came, [to Congress] I mean, we disagreed on issues, but that was the dynamic—to have the debate. That’s not the way it is now. But I do believe that when our founders founded this country, and even some of the early presidents, talked about the goodness of the American people. We have to believe in their goodness. So I have these bracelets that say faith, hope, and charity. When they ask me “Where is hope?,” I say hope is where it always has been—between faith and charity. And if you believe in the goodness of the American people, that gives people hope. And so what we have to do in politics is think more in terms of the goodness of the American people—and not this freak show that we’re in right now.

Are you really done with politics, or just done with Congress?

Right now, I’m still in Congress for one reason: to win the house for the Democrats. That’s it. And my position enables me to do it in a stronger way than if I had retired by now. So that’s what I’m here for. I’ll always kind of be making judgments about races, as to whether they’re owning the ground, disciplining them, disciplining the message. And that’s the word that they’ll probably use for me—I am a disciplined person on that. When you make a decision to be in this, you make a decision to win. At the end of the day, I have three “nos”: no wasted time, no underutilized resources, and no regrets the day after the election that you could have done more.

Have you thought about what you’ll miss?

The first time I saw the Capitol, I was only about five years old, and it left a lasting impression on me. And I love looking at it every day. And to see what happens under the Capitol is very important. So I guess I would say what I would miss... I hadn’t thought about missing anything, quite frankly. But I know that I will miss the people, that’s for sure. But I can see them. It’s not as if they’re going away too. Maybe this will be some clarity for you: People in California do not get Potomac Fever [D.C. slang for politicians’ obsession with staying in power]. We live in heaven on earth, so there’s no regrets about going home to California. And every week when I would get off that plane and they’d say we’re landing in San Francisco, I’d be like: “oh my God, how wonderful.” And so the timing is right.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who’s left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and the bad—plus why they decided to move on and what life looks like on the other side.

Here, we talk to Li Li Leung, who spent nearly seven years as president and CEO of USA Gymnastics. She stepped into the role in 2019, when the organization was still reckoning with the fallout of the Larry Nassar abuse scandal. At the time, trust across the sport had been shattered, and the organization was mired in lawsuits and bankruptcy proceedings. Over her tenure, Leung worked to steady the institution and shift the culture toward one that centers athlete safety and well-being.

In this conversation, she reflects on the pressure of turning around an organization in crisis, the milestones that convinced her the sport was truly changing, and why, after everything, she decided to step down this year.

You announced earlier this year that you’ll be stepping down at the end of 2025. What led to that decision for you personally?

It felt like the right time. Everything I set out to do when I first took the role has now been done, and the organization is in a really great place to be able to hand over to a successor. I'm so grateful for this opportunity to have served in this role, and the people whom I've met throughout this journey, and the evolution of transforming this organization.

We have been through the trenches together over the past six and a half years since I joined the organization, and when you're tested as an organization, you're tested as individuals—and your bonds become that much stronger. And so it was a really, really emotional decision. There's no question I shed tears over it.

When you stepped into this role, the organization was in crisis. What was your first priority on day one?

The top priority was rebuilding the trust of the community. Part of that was really focusing on athlete safety, because that was one of the reasons why the organization got into the situation that it was in.

There were a lot of things that were really difficult and challenging with that, because [it required] an overall cultural transformation of the sport. The only way to rebuild trust is to be present and try to be everything to everyone, even though that's an impossibility to do. I wished I'd had more hours in the day to be present—to the athletes, the coaches, the club owners, and the parents. That was really difficult, so I spread myself really thin.

What kept you moving forward during that period of intense change?

It was the undeniable belief that we were doing the right thing. That's what grounded me. That we were positively impacting the lives of hundreds of thousands of members, and potentially transforming the sport in a positive way for generations to come.

One of the things I had said in my first interview with the board is that this is not a one person job—that it will take a village to do what we need to do. And part of that is the leadership team that I was fortunate enough to build. They were willing to roll up their sleeves, be committed to what we needed to achieve, and run into the burning house that was this organization.

At which point did you feel like the organization was finally turning a corner?

I would say the first corner was turned when we exited bankruptcy, because exiting bankruptcy unlocked our ability to be able to do a lot of other things. Rather than talking about ourselves and talking about the good things that we were doing, we wanted to show that through action. And when we exited bankruptcy, we finally were able to point to something very concrete.

One other major milestone was reengaging with survivors. When they were starting to show up at our events, and talk about us in positive ways, and recognize the work we were doing. And hearing these really moving stories definitely shaped how we operated.

How did the people around you react when you told them you’d been offered the role?

I know there were a lot of doubters out there, but I was rooted in this belief that the organization or the sport could have been turned around. There were a lot of question marks when I told people that I was taking on this role—they were saying “congratulations and condolences.” And there were a lot of people around me who truly cared about me who were questioning whether I should take the role. To protect me as a person and an individual, they actually tried to talk me out of it. [But] I trusted my gut.

The offer came through late on a Friday night. My husband and I were watching a movie—and I got a text. It said, "Congratulations.” And I showed the text to my husband. He says, "Looks like we're moving to Indy!" And he was a big part of my support system.

You’ve described the organization as a “burning house” when you first arrived. How would you describe the “house” you’re leaving behind?

I would say that we have remodeled the house. But there's still more work that can be done on the house.

One of the philosophies that we apply here at the organization is that we can always do better. We challenge ourselves in [the same] way that our athletes challenge themselves. Our athletes don't get one skill and say, ‘okay, great, I'm done. I'm not going to try and be better as a gymnast.’ They always try to improve and be better. And that's the same philosophy that we apply here.

In your view, what’s shifting in how the sport supports athletes?

Before, the mission used to be about winning medals, and that's no longer our mission at USA Gymnastics. Now, our mission is to utilize the sport of gymnastics to develop well-rounded, holistic individuals who will be successful in life beyond the sport. And that's our measure of success. And so you see the Simones and the Sunis and the Jordans be really successful—not just as gymnasts, but as overall holistic people.

What's next for you, Li Li?

I plan to rest, reset and take a moment to reflect as well. I try to live by expanding my comfort zone. It would be more comfortable for me to stay, but it's not in my DNA to coast. So stepping down allows me to figure out what the next challenge will be. This role has essentially been “my life” for the past (almost) 7 years and the people I have worked alongside have become like family. So while I know they will remain friends for years to come, I am also saddened that they will no longer be an integral part of my daily life; that will likely be the biggest change for which I’ll need to adjust.

Who are your role models?

I was asked who my sporting hero was at one point, and a lot of people named famous athletes. But I named my father. He passed away about five months ago.

He taught me true grit and resilience. He played tennis up until the age of 94, and was always motivated, disciplined, had an incredible work ethic, and was a good person. And so I always thought to myself that I would just love to be like him—and always challenge myself and have that resilience throughout life.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who’s left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and the bad—plus why they decided to leave and what life looks like on the other side.

Here, we talk to Sandy Brondello, who spent four seasons as head coach of the New York Liberty, and led the team to its first-ever WNBA championship in 2024. In November, Brondello headed North to take on a brand-new challenge: serving as the inaugural head coach of the Toronto Tempo, the WNBA’s highly anticipated expansion team. In this conversation, Brondello reflects on leaving New York, building a team from scratch in Canada, and—for the first time—the other offers she received before choosing Toronto.

What does this new chapter feel like for you right now—and what are you most excited about?

It's exciting. I've been a professional athlete, a basketball player, for a long time. I retired, went into coaching, and I've loved every part of the journey. Phoenix was great for eight years, and then I had four great years in New York and won their first-ever championship, so that's very special. But I just feel renewed energy—excited to start building a team from scratch in a great city and a new country.

I get to do something and build something from the ground up and have a big input into that. Because of the movement of the WNBA, the Olympic Games, and the World Cup, we've got more eyes on us than ever before. But while we'll be a Toronto team, we're also a Canada team, and that excites me. They've got players in the WNBA and some great young talent coming up, so it's an opportunity to continue to grow the game.

When did you first realize your time in New York was ending, and that a completely new chapter was beginning?

Right after we lost, I knew this was the end of the chapter. And obviously that's sad because you can build such strong connections with these players and the people around you. But in the end it wasn't sad for too long. I love what I do and other opportunities, and I had people reaching out immediately after, so that was nice.

[The other offers she received] were from the Seattle storm and the Dallas Wings. Once I decided, it was leaked, and then the other teams and I knew that I had to make a decision. All of them are just different, but I just felt excited to build something from scratch with the really good people in a really great city [Toronto] and with the whole country behind you. How cool is that?

You’ve been part of the WNBA for decades. When you look back, what feels most different about women’s basketball today, and what gives you the most hope for where it’s headed?

It’s a real movement. There's so many eyes on our game. We've had great players back in my day—Lisa Leslie, Lauren Jackson's—and they were the trailblazers, but now the players are finally getting the recognition that they deserve. And they're more than just basketball players, they’re human beings, obviously. They have their own passions off the court as well.

I’ve been in the WNBA for all but three years, and just to see the growth of the league—the standards have raised, the players keep getting better and better, the technology, the training methods. And now people are watching and taking notice and loving our sport. So women's sport is a real movement. The WNBA is a real movement at the moment. And that makes me very happy.

Looking back at your career as a whole, what are you proudest of—and what stands out most from your time with the Liberty?

I’m a mother—that will always be the proudest thing, my children and my pride and joy. But I’m also very proud that I get to do what I love, which is my passion. Basketball’s been my passion since I started playing at the age of nine. Throughout my whole career, I didn’t win every game. I lost championships—they hurt—but I see it as an opportunity to grow.

[On coaching the New York Liberty]: Winning their first championship, creating history—always being the first head coach that brought a WNBA title to New York—that’s special. But for me, it’s more about the people. The people that you work with, the amazing players, and the great journey together.

What was it like to leave the people you’d built such strong connections with, and what do you hope people remember most about your time in New York?

That I built a really strong culture there that the organization and the players are proud of, and the city should be proud of. I continue to hold myself to the highest level and continue to grow, and that's what I demanded of the players. That we had an enjoyable journey with a leader that was committed to excellence, but also wanted to enjoy the journey as well—and I did.

The players and I will always have that connection—after over four years, going through so many highs and lows—that won’t change. I have so much respect for those ladies in that locker room. I'm a former player too, so I know what it’s like to be in that area. Those relationships will always be ongoing, even though I won’t be their coach.

You’ve mentioned that you’re always striving to grow. How do you think you’ve evolved as a coach—and what are you looking ahead to next?

I was a pretty good player back in the day, but I was quite shy when I was playing. Basketball was my haven. So I'm just more confident, and I've grown in everything—being a better coach, being a better leader. But I haven't changed my values from when I grew up. Even my friends who I haven't seen for years, regardless of what I'm doing or what I've achieved, say, "You haven't changed," and that makes me happy. Why should I? This is my job.

I'm one of two coaches that’s won two championships with two different teams. I’d like to be the first to win it with three. How about that? It's about building sustainable success, playing an attractive style of basketball and growing the game of basketball in Canada.

How do you usually celebrate your wins—and how do you handle your losses?

I might do a dance here and then in front of the players. Over the years, sometimes I wouldn't celebrate the wins enough because the expectation's always so high, and that was expected every single time—and guess what? You're not always going to win. So I made a conscious effort to celebrate wins more in terms of just showing my joy in front of the team, even if we didn't play so well. We are playing in the best league in the world, and it is a journey. I don't like negativity—I don't feel that allows you to get back to where you want.

And that doesn't mean I don't hate losing. So I would always be like, ‘okay, what's our solution to be better? What's our process to be better and to grow and stay together?’ I’m very big on that—on building the culture and making sure all these women are feeling empowered and valued. The lesson of experience is always positive, even if at the time it feels negative.

Who has been the most influential role model in your life?

There are so many, but I had a coach from the AIS (the Australian Institute of Sport, now called the Center of Excellence) who was also the Australian men’s team coach. When I first came in, I grew up on a sugarcane farm. I was a pretty good player, and he told me, “You’re going to play for Australia one day.” I was 17 or 18, and he worked with me and believed in me, and it happened one year later. It’s very rare for a player to make a national team at 18, and I did that. He believed in me more than I believed in myself at that time.

When you’re young, you’re not sure what you can do. I had to continue to grow as a player, but he’s a role model I look up to. I’ve had other great coaches too, and I’ve coached some great players and I’m still very close to a lot of them. I always tell any young coach—‘you need mentors,’ because this journey can get lonely at times. You need people who support you, give you advice, listen—all of it. They believe in you and they've got your back. That's important.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who has left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and bad—plus why they decided to leave and what life looks like on the other side. This time, we talk to Tania Flynn, who spent nearly two decades rising through Nike’s design ranks before joining Athleta as head of design. Almost a year into the new role, Flynn finds herself writing a new career playbook that involves a more hands-on approach to designing sportswear around real women’s lives.

When did you know it was time to move on from Nike?

I look back on that time fondly. It shaped who I am as a creative, a designer, and a leader. But after that long in one place, you naturally start to wonder: What’s next? I became more curious about where I was heading than what I left behind.

When I stepped into my first leadership role at Nike as a design director for the brand’s youth apparel team, I had a chance to help young girls build their confidence through clothing. The stats show a lack of body confidence as a major factor discouraging developing girls from participating in sports. I realized that my work could actually help to change that.

Then I became the label’s VP of Apparel Design, where I worked more broadly across styles, overseeing product design for women’s, men’s, kids', and accessories categories. Because of the scale of my role, I was more focused on leading large teams and overseeing a broad vision for global product lines. While I had influence over product direction, a lot of the day-to-day creative decisions were managed by others.

So when Athleta offered me the chance to reconnect with my passion for helping women and girls unlock their potential—while being more involved in design choices—I knew it was the right move for me.

At the time, I was also pregnant with my little girl, Lucy. And when I thought about the world I could help create for our future generation of young women, this new role felt like the perfect place to do that.

What did it feel like to make such a big career shift while you were pregnant with your daughter?

Leaving Nike while pregnant was both exhilarating and overwhelming. It felt like I was stepping into two new chapters at once—one in my professional life and another in my personal life. There were definitely moments of self-doubt, as there often are when you’re navigating major life changes. But I maintained my confidence by focusing on the lessons I gained from the transition. For one, I learned how to manage my time and energy more effectively, both of which become increasingly limited during pregnancy. I also developed a stronger sense of patience, with myself and with others.

What was the most emotional part about the move from Nike to Athleta, and what unexpected challenges came from the transition?

I was emotional about walking away from the legacy that I had built at Nike. I created lifelong friendships with coworkers, contributed to designs that became cultural icons, and experienced the evolution of sport and style on a global scale.

Leaving such a familiar world felt extremely daunting and I surely didn’t anticipate the adjustment period that followed my departure. Adapting to new processes and unfamiliar people required patience. I had to recalibrate how I led teams and communicated my ideas, but in those moments I was reminded that meaningful growth rarely happens inside our comfort zones.

Are there any personal experiences that influenced your decision to move to Athleta?

Athleta’s commitment to empowering women resonates deeply with my own story. Similar to a lot of other girls, I struggled with my self-esteem while going through puberty. I got my period when I was 11 years old and I had boobs in the fourth grade. I had an ill-fitting bra that I layered underneath my school uniform, and I wore two of them to do any physical activity. Developing early—and ahead of my peers—was a really emotional experience. I can think of so many embarrassing moments—not only as a child, but also as an adult—that could have been avoided if a sportswear designer had considered my not-so-unique set of pain points.

Now, I’m in a position at Athleta where I can be that conscious-driven designer. That’s what keeps me fired up every day.

What was the toughest piece of criticism you received in your previous role, and how did it help you to become a better leader?

Someone once told me I’m too direct in my communication style. I took that to heart and began studying leaders who deliver honest feedback with both clarity and respect. Their example showed me how to stay candid yet considerate, and that’s the standard I work towards.

I want my teams—past and present—to see what authentic, courageous leadership looks like. By bringing my full self to work—as a woman, a person of color, a mother, and a wife—I’m modeling a multifaceted identity in leadership and encouraging others to do the same.

Which lessons from your previous work experience are guiding you now?

Early in my career, I took several roles that—on paper—didn’t match the long-term vision I had for myself. One example was moving into a position leading Nike's kids' business, which felt like a sharp departure from the work I had done—and candidly, not as exciting.

At the time, I was frustrated, but with distance, each detour stretched my skill set and widened my network. That experience ended up unlocking a new sense of purpose. It taught me the importance of showing up where I’m needed most, even if it doesn't fit my original "plan.” Rather than resist the change, I chose to lean in. I viewed those pivots as opportunities to stretch and grow. Each of those roles added dimension to my career and prepared me to be a better steward of the business.

At Nike, I also discovered how a strong narrative can give every seam and zipper a reason to exist. That insight forced me to listen harder to the athlete, not just what she does, but how she feels. Empathy became foundational. My team and I map the emotional context of a woman’s life—whether she’s moving from teen to adult or juggling a new baby and a marathon plan. We ask, What motivates her? What challenges her? And then design with that awareness.

Getting dressed is an emotional decision; what we put on our bodies is an extension of identity. So every product has to work twice: perform technically and serve as a tool for self-expression.

In hindsight, the sum of all those winding choices—and the narrative focus I honed at Nike—brought me exactly where I’m supposed to be.

For anyone eyeing a career pivot but paralyzed by “what-ifs,” how would you help them reframe that fear?

Making a career pivot is rarely easy—in fact, it’s usually uncomfortable. But if you find fear along the path toward your purpose, that’s actually a good sign; those uneasy moments are where the biggest growth happens.

Transitioning from Nike to Athleta felt intimidating. Not only was I pregnant, but I had to navigate an entirely new environment and its dynamics. However, taking that leap was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I had to look inward for the strength to navigate tough stretches and trust that my skills and experiences would carry me forward.

I also leaned hard on my trusted tribe—mentors, close friends, and especially my family. Spending time with them always re-centers me—drawing superheroes with my seven-year-old, playing peekaboo with my eight-month-old, or debriefing the day with my husband. Stepping away from my desk and connecting with my people brings me peace, recharges my energy, and reminds me that I’m never tackling a pivot alone.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who has left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and the bad—plus why they decided to leave and what life looks like on the other side.

Here, we talk to ex-Nike employees Vida Delrahim and Ronit Menashe, who forged a remarkably close and supportive relationship as each other’s work wives for nearly 20 years. Together, they navigated some of life’s biggest milestones—with serendipitous synced marriages and firstborns—and leaned on each other during more complex challenges, including trying to conceive. After both experienced miscarriages in their late 30s and early 40s—dismissed by doctors with comments like “You’re lucky you even got pregnant”—they set out to find better guidance, ultimately leaving Nike to launch WeNatal, a California-based prenatal supplement.

Marie Claire: How did you land in the wellness space after your marketing careers?

Vida Delrahim: When Ronit and I met in Nike’s corporate marketing department 20 years ago, we instantly became best friends. We always assumed we might team up professionally one day, likely in events or marketing. But life had different plans. In early 2020, we both had miscarriages within a week of each other—my second and her first—and our doctors were surprisingly dismissive, saying, "It just happens.” Separately, we were both given little optimism or practical guidance—basically told there was nothing we could do. The doctors' offices were very matter-of-fact, which just happened quite a bit with "geriatric pregnancies." Since this wasn’t my first miscarriage, I took it at face value and assumed it was my fault.

Ronit Menashe: I’ve always wanted to work in the wellness space. When I got my MBA at USC, all my classmates interviewed for every job under the sun—places like Taco Bell, Kellogg’s, or General Mills. Those are considered prestigious positions from business school because they pay well, but there was a disconnect for me. I wanted my career to make a real impact.

While at business school, I had just one interview at Nike, which I got. I thought, “Wow, this will be the best thing ever. I’m going to make an impact at a huge company.” But after eight years at Nike, I realized I still didn’t feel like I was truly changing lives in the health and wellness space, so I decided to pursue functional medicine.

After Nike, I got a job with Dr. Mark Hyman, who I worked with for four years. He's a leading functional medicine doctor. When I had a miscarriage at that time, I knew that what my conventional doctor was telling me was a little bit of gaslighting and just a little bit of lack of information on her end. Researching on my own, I learned there are many root causes of miscarriage; women can do a lot to improve egg quality at any age, and men account for half the fertility equation.

VD: I was still working at Nike and remember getting a call from Ronit where she revealed what felt like a groundbreaking discovery—that men contribute just as much to fertility as women, yet nobody discussed men’s prenatal. We realized there was not only a nutritional gap but also an emotional gap: women often shoulder the entire fertility burden. Given our own experience with pregnancy loss, we knew something had to change. We wanted to educate, shift gender paradigms, and spark a broader conversation. It was the start of the brand.

MC: How did your experience at Nike shape the way you developed WeNatal?

VD: Nike is at the top of their game, and being a premium brand was ingrained in both of us when we started working on the start of our own company.

RM: We learned the importance of a strong visual identity and brand experience there. They excel at integrated storytelling across all platforms and that premium experience from customer service to how you check out, how you open the box, and the messaging. That mindset has been rooted in everything we do.

It's why we initially contacted Brightland's brand designers but received quotes in the hundred-thousand-dollar range—way beyond our budget. That led us to work with Kati Forner, who had recently left a design agency. She’s an incredible designer who helped us establish our brand’s foundation and brought our vision to life, creating the elevated experience we learned to value at Nike.

MC: What was it like getting a small brand off the ground?

VD: We kept telling ourselves, “We’ll launch next month,” only to discover we needed to do something else. We were meticulous about our formula, continually updating it as new research emerged and double-checking every detail. Our background taught us that we’d only have one chance to make consumers fall in love with WeNatal, so we invested heavily in the brand experience—from the website design to the packaging—ensuring every touchpoint would be memorable, innovative, and unlike anything else on the market. Otherwise, what’s the point of launching another prenatal product? That commitment to getting it right explains why it took two years, but it also shaped a truly holistic offering that addresses real needs in prenatal care.

MC: Vida, you still worked at Nike at the time. How did that go?

VD: I was open about the project from day one, sharing updates on social media because it truly was a labor of love—and a healing journey after my two miscarriages. It felt good to help other women facing similar struggles and to let them know they’re not alone. Since we bootstrapped the entire venture, I couldn’t afford to quit my job. I even mentioned it in Nike meetings, explaining that this was my second passion, but it had nothing to do with athletic apparel or footwear—I never wanted to compete with Nike. Since it was so different from Nike’s day-to-day work, it didn’t conflict with my role. I squeezed in work on nights and weekends. Ronit and I would get together, and while our kids played, we’d be busy cranking out work.

MC: How did your co-workers react?

VD: My boss had an idea, and honestly, so did everyone else. Every now and then, people would say, “I heard you started WeNatal!” Everyone who knew was incredibly supportive. Even now that I’ve fully left Nike, it’s rewarding to hear former colleagues—sometimes even current employees—saying they loved hearing me on a podcast or seeing what I’m doing with the brand. Friends from our Nike years have been an enormous source of support, and we’re all still cheering each other on as our careers evolve.

MC: What did you learn about work culture?

VD: My time at Nike taught me that people are at the heart of a brand; they’re the ones who truly bring it to life. We’ve been fortunate to hire people we love, respect, and admire—those who genuinely believe in our mission. The work will get done, but it’s crucial to surround yourself with a community that cares as much as you do. For instance, one of our newest hires had been taking WeNatal for two years before reaching out because she wanted to be part of what we’re building. That kind of passion is a blessing. We treat our team like family, and that’s something I learned there: when you invest in people above all else, the brand becomes real.

MC: Would you have done anything differently?

RM: The biggest learning I think we've both had is to trust our gut. When we saw red flags, we knew we should not proceed, but we didn't have the expertise to negotiate out of a contract or say the money is sunk—let's get out now and move on.

VD: Sometimes, as a first-time entrepreneur, you second-guess yourself. And I think the reality is we've been around the block long enough to trust our intuition.

Now we go back to that, and we're like, "Nope, let's stick with it. We know what we need for this brand." And trusting our gut as a female founder, I think, is a very important skill set you need to reinforce.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who has left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and bad—plus why they decided to leave and what life looks like on the other side. Here, we talk with Hoda Kotb, who for nearly three decades has been a beloved face on NBC, first on Dateline, then on TODAY, where she co-anchored the show for the past seven years. But after turning 60, she knew it was “time for the next wave."

How long had you been thinking about leaving the TODAY show?

Hoda Kotb: It was something that was nestled in the way-back of my mind, and especially with my kids and the ages they are, I thought about it on days that were long or days that I missed things. When you're in love with something, it's like, why would you ever break up with someone you're in love with? It doesn't make any sense to do that. But I realized that there are phases of life, and the TODAY show and NBC has been my longest relationship of any I've ever had. I wanted to see what kind of possibilities were available to me beyond this incredible job.

Someone put it to me this way: “When you choose to jump, you have to be able to imagine yourself on the other side. You can't just fling off of a cliff and go, Yay, I hope it's amazing.” I was imagining myself on the other side. After working at NBC for 26 years, it really hit me clearly on my 60th birthday. It was like a rocket ship. I looked outside, I looked out at the plaza, and I just knew. This is the mountaintop. This is the top of the wave. I’ve reached the pinnacle. And I just knew. I thought to myself, It's time for the next wave, whatever it is.

What made you think there's another chapter for you?

HK: My run at the TODAY show has never been better than it is right now. Never. I kept meeting people who had left jobs and I was asking them questions on the show. Trevor Noah was one. He said, “You have to go before you start resenting the job.” I didn't feel that, but I don't ever want to feel that. Then Chris Martin was here and he said that the last album they were going to do was [coming up]. And I said, So Coldplay’s over? He said, “Yeah.” And I was like, Well, how do you know? And he goes, “Because I know it's two more. And then we're done.” As painful as it is, you can hold two things. You can be heartbroken and also know you're ready for a new adventure and to give something else a try.

Who else did you turn to for advice when you decided you were ready to leave?

HK: Maria Shriver is kind of my north star and she had a piece of advice for me. She said, “Plan your day the Monday after. You need a mini plan.”

So here is my mini plan: I'm getting up for a SoulCycle class at 5:45. I'm going to do that until 6:30. I'm going to come home because my kids get up around then. I'm going to make the most delicious cup of coffee. I’ll enjoy breakfast with my kids. I'm going to put my coat on over my sweaty outfit and I'm going to walk my kids to school and I'm going to walk home. I'm going to take a hot shower and I'm going to do some work on a couple of things that I'm excited about in the wellness space. I'm going to have lunch dates with people who I have been dreaming of having lunch dates with but I never had a minute to eat lunch. I'm going to do a couple more hours of work and then I'm going to walk to that school. I'm going to bring my kids home. I'm going to put some steaks on the barbecue. I'm going to pour a glass of wine and I'm just going to have a day.

So many people you hear when they stop doing something they've done for years, they feel rudderless or directionless. I don't want that. So I’ve got my plan. I'm ready.

Let’s talk about what you’re working on in the wellness space. You’ve previously said you’re working on an app and may host wellness retreats. What can you share about that?

HK: Over the last three years or so, I've had my toe in the water of all of these things. Things that I would've thought five years ago were sort of "woo woo" and weird, I now find very incredible. It started off with a woman who taught me breath work, which I thought was breathing. I thought, Thank you very much. I've been doing that pretty well my whole life. But then I started the technique and after I was breathing for 10 minutes, I burst out into tears. And I said, “What was that? What happened there?” It's a release of things. That was a real life-changer for me, probably the most life-changing experience I've ever had, after Haley and Hope, my two kids.

We're still in the infancy stages of the company, but it's going to be something that is for everybody. My company's not going to be product-driven. You're going to try things.

What advice would you have for somebody who's looking to make a pivot and is nervous about doing something different?

HK: I remember some good advice, weirdly, from Bethenny Frankel. She said, “If you're in a job, put 10 percent of your time and 10 percent of your money toward the thing that you’re thinking about but not doing.” You can't leave your job because you need your insurance. And you can't just jump and say, What the hell! Because you're not an idiot. You have to pay your bills. But it reminds you of your other goal.

We’re all doing things because we think we should, or maybe it sounds good, or our parents wanted us to. But at the end of the day, you really have to find your thing. And [former co-host of TODAY’s fourth hour] Kathie Lee Gifford used to say, “Find what you love and figure out how to get paid for it.” If you're doing a job where you're just waiting on payday every other Thursday, that's a lot of days where you're not happy. You get one ride around the sun. That's it.

What are you looking forward to in your next chapter?

HK: Little things, like a road trip with my kids in my minivan. Spontaneous things. I never had any spontaneity because—how could you take the whole winter break? Also, the idea of not having to go to bed at eight o'clock every night. Being normal and going out for dinner and to have a date and to do things and to not be thinking constantly about, How late is it? When can we get home? Seeing my family in D.C. without it being a thing. And summers! Holy mackerel, summers! I am signing a deal with NBC to do certain things like the Making Space podcast and we're going to do the Olympics. So I'm excited about that.

Does anything scare you about this next step?

HK: It's out of my comfort zone. It's hoping that this wellness idea succeeds. It's doing something I've never done, although it feels like it fits me. I've always been a person who's worked for a company and suddenly to be like, Okay, you've got to make this thing work. That’s scary. I want my kids to see that you can change and stand tall and say, “I want to try that.”

After 26 years at NBC, what are you going to look back on and remember most?

HK: The friendships. I was sitting on the set yesterday and Savannah held up a screenshot of a song that she had texted me one day when I was feeling like I needed it. The lyrics were, “May you find the light to guide you.” Those tender, poignant friendships.

The other thing I'll really miss is I actually love the plaza. I've always felt like I was actually more suited to be out there than inside. It was my happy place. I remembered going out there and a woman saying to me, “Hi, your dad was a professor at WVU.” My dad passed when I was in college, and I said, “Yeah, he was a professor at WVU.” And she goes, “You know how I know that? I was your dad's secretary. And he brought all of us at the office these bracelets when he went overseas, and I thought you'd like to have them.” I'm in tears looking at this lady.

Months before that, this woman goes, “Do you recognize me?” And of course I was like, “No.” She goes, “Mrs. Spork.” Mrs. Spork was my third grade teacher. She had laminated in my horrible handwriting a note that said, “Mrs. Spork, I'll miss you over the summer,” and she handed it to me.

Then you have all these incredible people who you don’t know but have waited a lifetime to come to this one spot. You can't beat it. It's literally like the heartbeat of Manhattan. No matter who's on the show or who warms the seats, it's going to rock. It's always been that way. And I'm just glad that I got to be there for a minute.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who has left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and bad—plus why they decided to leave and what life looks like on the other side. Here, we talk with ex-Lululemon executives turned swimwear entrepreneurs Shannon Savage and Laura Low Ah Kee, the cofounders of the swimwear brand Left On Friday. Six years in, they’re becoming a household name in the activewear space, but they aren’t done growing yet.

When did you know it was time to leave your roles at Lululemon?

Shannon Savage: I was drawn to my career there because I had this really strong entrepreneurship value, and I grew with them from a small company to such a giant one. I remember when I started, I was like, I’m going to do this job until I get bored, then I just had this seven year itch after going from the lead designer in the women’s running and outerwear category to design director to vice president of design. A little whisper asked, Is this what you want to keep doing? I just found that the job felt repetitive—the company was way bigger than when I started, and the work wasn’t as satisfying anymore.

Laura Low Ah Kee: I had a six-year itch, which led to a sabbatical and the insight about starting Left On Friday. During my last three years at Lululemon, I was in my dream job as the director of merchandising. I was so proud of the work I had created in different roles. I was respected, impacting the business, felt I had made major contributions, and was on my career high. But what more was I going to contribute? What was I going to learn beyond that? Shannon and I had been talking about bathing suits, and that sounded so much more exciting than continuing to do the same thing. I knew I could always come back to Lululemon, so it didn’t feel that risky.

Was it hard to leave a big company with resources?

LLAK: It’s a bit stressful. As a cofounder, you never turn off. We filled all the roles with just us two at the beginning. Owning everything from start to finish was very satisfying, but we were always working. It’s very gratifying work—but it’s all the time.

Who did you turn to for advice as you started LOF?

LLAK: We both had amazing relationships at Lululemon and exited on really good terms, so we predominantly reached out to our networks there. We had close advisors and mentors, formally and informally, who had built that business and marketing from the ground up. In other areas [like legal and finance], we brought experts in from our extended networks or found people who were recommended to us.

How did your former colleagues view your new venture?

SS: There was a time between when we left Lululemon to work on the launch of LOF, and people were just so curious, like, “What are you guys working on?” Then we launched, and it was a relief we were well received. I remember packing orders in our studio-turned-warehouse in Vancouver to send to the Lululemon head office—former colleagues were just ordering and loving the swimsuits. A few of those people have joined us on the team.

What have you carried with you from your previous role?

LLAK: Lululemon was a training camp for our new business. We brought a lot of things, but we also left our egos behind. We don’t go “this is my idea or your idea.” I also learned that if you’re in a high-growth environment, the place you work now versus in nine months will look like a very different company. You have to always be in that rocketship growth mindset and ready for the future because it comes at you much quicker than you can imagine.

SS: I remember when my boss—one of our mentors now—gave me this advice when I was going on maternity leave. She said, “Always imagine that you won’t be able to do your job in nine months, so who will do it?” It makes me think about doing the job differently and always trying to teach other people along the way, and it’s a very generous way to focus on your career.

What advice would you give to someone looking to leave their job?

SS: I would tell them to really question what they’re going after, and is that something that they can achieve where they are, or is it a pivot or a career change? If you’re starting a business and it becomes a success, just remember it’s not like you’re just gaining a bunch of free time. It will be a journey, so make sure that’s what you want.

LLAK: To help keep you focused, be clear on why you want to leave. You don’t have to have the next phase figured out, but you do need to know what is motivating you to exit.

This article appears in the 2024 Changemakers Issue of Marie Claire.

In Exit Interview, Marie Claire has a candid conversation with someone who has just left their job. We learn all about their experience—both the good and bad—plus why they decided to leave and what life looks like on the other side. In our inaugural column, we touch base with professional athlete Alexi Pappas. In 2016 Pappas represented Greece at the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, setting the national record for the 10k. Now, you can still catch Pappas running for fun, but a “sustainable career in the arts,” as she calls it—a film director, author, and actress is what she’s pursuing next. Her first project is a show launching in August where she talks to people, including Matthew McConaughey, about their mentors.

Marie Claire: What was the reason for your sort of exit?

Alexi Pappas: I still love running. I guide for blind athletes, run marathons and ultramarathons, and am exploring myself in the sport outside of Olympic track running. I also have curiosities elsewhere. A curiosity and a growth that was reflected in a desire—not just to chase objective goals, but to pursue values and feelings. Telling stories, being around artists, seeing what kind of good chaos I could make by bringing my athletic experience into the arts.

I don't think I have even run the fastest 10k I could run, but I was very happy with my performance in Rio because it did feel like at the time my mind and body were peaking at the same time. It was a personal best. It was a national record. It felt like the experience that I hoped to have. I had the post-Olympic depression after that in a way that was life threatening. I actually had to stop at that point for a while. Then, developing this pursuit of the arts was when I found joy again in life.

When you're chasing that Olympic career, it's very objective and it is a moving target and it's hard. To not compete hard, meant that I could pursue the arts fully because it meant I didn't actually have to leave that old passion behind. I still run, it just looks different. You just have to leave the career behind as in the form that it was in.

MC: How did you decide what the next opportunity would be?

AP: My goal is to have a sustainable career in the arts. It's not a hobby for me. It's something that I want to do in a real way. I'm moving toward television for that reason because it's a lot of hard work. But if you happen to be able to work on a television show or create one, which I'm developing a couple, it's more like a sports season. For me it was like transitioning from juggling two careers to actually making them cohesive. I am a jock in Hollywood and it is a strength. A lot of the projects I'm working on are blending that old experience with a new perspective and a new medium. That has become a way to stand out and tell stories that actually are uniquely told by me.

MC: What did you love most about being a competitive athlete?

AP: I love the feeling that I was in a routine that I believed in and could count on and it was dictated by a coach who I trusted and admired. I felt that I was in the right place at the right time when I was there. I felt my time was well spent because I trusted in that environment. I loved the team. I trained with a lot of guys and knew they were going to be there at the track and knew that if I simply showed up, I would feel and try my best. I wasn't always going to be the best. I was going to try my best and that was a great place to try my best.

MC: What did you hate the most about being a competitive athlete?

AP: I hated feeling very high maintenance around a lot of people. Meaning if I was on a family vacation and I had to run 13 miles in an unreasonable place or make people wait for brunch I felt really guilty. I felt like I was being kind of lumped in— and it might have been my perception—with people who are high strung and type A when I was like, no no, this is just my job. You're unchill, you're fundamentally unchill, because it's a lifestyle. I'm really cool and chill but I'm doing a job, where you have to do your job all the time. I think the difficult part was the inflexibility. It's like a character trait that you don't assign to yourself, but you are proud of doing your job.

MC: How did it feel to make that decision to exit from being a competitive athlete?

AP: It was difficult because I didn't know exactly what I would be doing in the same vocabulary terms that I knew about chasing the Olympic dream. You asked me, what are you now? I'm like, do I say actor? Do I say director? Do I say I'm doing all those things? The answer is not as easy to feed people. It's not a sandwich, right? It's more like a plate of mushy food.

It was super hard because a lot of my income started out being dependent on performance. And so to abandon that as my number one narrative meant that I needed to create a future that was not dependent on that. It wasn't as much about what people will think of me, it was will I survive? That was scary. But then I realized that where I was going had never been gone before. I needed to stop trying to define what this was. I am completely feral. And so I need to go full on saturated in the direction that I'm in, whatever that is.

Sometimes I deal with it the same way that I deal with my changing body. I weighed 108 pounds at the Olympics. I'm much bigger now. My body changed and it was really hard for me at first because I looked bizarre in the clothes that used to look really good [in] and I felt bizarre. What I had to do was start to get comfortable with myself naked and be like, wow, I actually absolutely feel like the woman. I'm choosing this because I'm not running 120 miles a week. Once I got comfortable with the choice of lifestyle, I was like, they're just the wrong effing clothes. Change your clothes. If I can stand behind the life choices I'm making as a whole, how can I be upset about not running five seconds faster or…even five minutes even close to my PR right now? I believe in the life I'm choosing.

MC: Was there anyone who you turned to for advice during that time?

AP: I turned to advice from my mentor Janet Pierson, who encouraged me to find a supportive community in Los Angeles. I also asked for advice from another mentor, Chris Bender, who encouraged me to lean in and try the things I am afraid of doing, like writing on my own, and flexing other creative muscles, essentially encouraging me to learn-by-doing. And also, Richard Linklater, who I look up to and whose advice has helped me tremendously in my evolution as an artist and person.

I also have two physiotherapists. I'm admittedly doing things with my body that I am not as prepared for as I once was, like a hundred mile race. I still rely on these physio mentors almost like my coaches because I don't want to hurt my body. I also have had mental health support. My doctor saved my life when I was post-Olympic depressed. I talk to him every other week and he helps me.

MC: What is something that you learned in your role as a professional athlete that you've carried with you?

AP: That winners lose. Losing is normal, losing is part of it, it’s okay to have losses. Don't frame it into this negative thing, get used to losing.

MC: What advice would you give to someone who is looking to make an exit from the current career that they're in?

AP: When you are going through your exit, think about it as an evolution. The world will be here for it. The world will get on board with it, but you have to lead that ship. The other piece of advice would be: actions change first, then thoughts, then feelings, in that order. That's what I learned when I was going through my depression: actions then thoughts, and feelings. It's not gonna feel great to exit, it's not gonna feel great to evolve. Focus on your actions, which will guide your thoughts, which will eventually change your feelings. Lastly, give yourself a window of time. I think some people question the goal itself, when they're in the middle of an interval, if you will. That can really hamstring their ability to grow.

MC: In what ways do you think the competitive running space could improve?

AP: In running, contracts need to reflect the value system that we want you to compete in, but we also want you to be healthy well-rounded full people.. Two, I think if the running world could somehow—and this might be coming from the athletes—if there could be a spirit of true support for other athletes; this spirit of good competition. There's a word in Greek that means good competition. It means you wish everybody to do their best. And you will also try your best. It's like integrity.