As a performance-focused high achiever, I never thought I’d end up with burnout.

I had a PhD degree. I’d worked in high-pressure environments for years. I knew the science. And still, I crashed.

Even worse, I saw it coming and didn’t stop it.

During recovery, I found myself among the towering Himalayas. In the thin, cold air, one question played on repeat in my head:

How did this happen, even with all the knowledge I had?

As Yale psychologist Dr. Laurie Santos says: “Knowing is not half the battle.” Knowing doesn’t override habit or a culture that rewards the wrong things.

When I got back, I treated my burnout like a research project.

I went through everything—neuroscience, organizational psychology, stress biology—to map what actually happened: what was happening to my nervous system under load, what my work environment was contributing, and all the beliefs I’d collected so far about work and performance.

What I discovered seemed pretty obvious once I looked:

The way most of us work fundamentally clashes with how human brains and bodies work.

We reward speed and constant availability. We celebrate people who answer emails at midnight. And then we’re shocked when talented people disengage, sick leave spikes, and ambition ends in wreckage.

As a result of my burnout journey, I left my operations management role at a fast-growing startup and decided to focus on helping other high-achievers perform at their best without destroying themselves.

Today, I work with leaders and founders who want performance they don’t need to recover from.