My name’s Tyler Mason, I’m 38 years old, and I live just outside Boulder, Colorado—where the mountains meet the sky and my kitchen meets the grind. My story didn’t start in a professional kitchen or under the tutelage of some Michelin-starred master. It started on a football field, with a torn ACL and a diet full of processed junk that left me slower, heavier, and honestly, pretty lost. Recovery wasn’t just about rebuilding my body—it was about rediscovering what I was fueling it with.

That injury lit a fire in me. I dove deep into the science of nutrition, started experimenting in the kitchen, and swapped Friday night fast food runs for farmer’s market strolls and smoothie bowls. What started as a personal comeback turned into a calling. I went back to school, got certified in sports nutrition, and began helping athletes—from weekend warriors to serious lifters—build performance-enhancing plates that still tasted like comfort food.

But I’ll be real with you—it wasn’t all pretty. I’ve burnt more quinoa than I care to admit, and my first attempt at a beet protein pancake could’ve doubled as a frisbee. Still, every flop taught me something. Now, I balance clean eating with bold flavors, never sacrificing one for the other. I believe that nourishing your body shouldn’t feel like punishment. It should taste like possibility.

These days, I work with clients all over the country, designing meal plans that align with their goals—whether it’s cutting weight for a meet, building lean muscle, or just getting through a week of early-morning workouts without crashing by noon. I share my recipes, tips, and the occasional kitchen fail on my blog and socials, because I think it’s important to show that healthy cooking is a journey, not a destination.

Food is fuel, yes. But it’s also joy, memory, and motivation. And if I can help someone feel stronger, think clearer, or just finally enjoy a salad that doesn’t taste like sadness—then I know I’m doing something right.

Thanks for stopping by my kitchen. Let’s build something amazing—one clean, delicious bite at a time.