I'll skate on concrete if I have to. I'm not worried about how fast the ice is. I'm worried about how fast I can go on the ice.

For 20 years I've had the privilege of representing Canada around the globe... first on the bike and then on my blades. The experiences have shaped me into who I am today.

Sport that consumed me for over two decades . . . is now gone. Now it's just me. No pressure, no expectations, no need to be fast, good, strong or to even improve. Yet I can't let go of this idea that I always need to be more than I am. And it is eating me alive.

I had some experience in dealing with people who have mental illness and depression, but I didn't see the signs in myself. I couldn't ask for help because I didn't know I needed help.

All the physical comes from the mental.

That's what is most satisfying, is having overcome that pain. Pain that is so intense that when you finish, it feels like you're going to die. That's what I wanted, and that's what I got.

I still can't believe I won the Olympics. That's what I feel right now - completely alive as a human being. It's a really beautiful moment.