The Way We Work is the Way We Live

We're not building experiences about presence, challenge, and genuine connection Monday through Friday, and then clocking out to live disconnected, comfortable, performative lives.

If we're asking people to step out of their bubbles, we have to be willing to step out of ours. If we're inviting people to do hard things in beautiful places with genuine community, we have to be willing to do the same—not just on trips, but in how we build this thing.

The work can't be separate from the values. The culture can't be separate from the product. Because people feel it – they can smell the inauthenticity. They know when something is a brand exercise versus when it's real...

We Don't Optimise Everything

There's a business model that says: optimise for efficiency, scale at all costs, remove friction, maximise output per input, turn everything into a system.

We understand that model. We respect parts of it. We use it where it makes sense. But we don't worship it.

Because some things shouldn't be optimised. Some friction is valuable. Some inefficiency is actually the point.

Like: we could scale our trips to 30 people instead of 12.

But we don't. Because the experience degrades. The community doesn't form. The transformation becomes transactional.

The "inefficiency" the small group size, the high-touch nature of it—is what makes it work.

Or: we could automate more of the guest experience process. Push people through a funnel faster and faster. Reduce the number of actual human conversations we have with prospective guests.

But, again, we don't. And we won't. Because those human conversations matter. Because understanding why someone's actually interested in this—what they're looking for, what they're afraid of, whether this is right for them—makes the difference between someone having a transformational week and someone showing up disappointed.

We optimise for what matters. Not for what's measurable. And that philosophy—that willingness to do things in ways that don't scale perfectly, that require human judgment and care and presence—extends to how we work internally.

We Work Like We're Building Something Worth Building

Most startups work like someone's going to steal their idea or the window will close or they'll run out of money before they prove the model.

But (we've learned!) urgency without intention is just chaos. And we're not interested in chaos. No thank you.

Instead, we're interested in building something that lasts. That evolves. That gets better over time because we're learning and adapting and staying true to what actually matters.

So we work with urgency, yes. But also with patience. With space to think. With room to try things that might not work. With permission to say "actually, let's not do that because it doesn't align with who we are."

We Choose Who We Work With

We're selective about the athletes we partner with. Not because we're snobs. But because fit matters. An athlete can be world-class in their sport and still be wrong for Loaf. If they're ego-driven, if they can't drop the performance, if they don't genuinely care about community or mentorship or showing up as a real human—it won't work.

We need athletes who understand that the experience isn't about them. It's about what they can create with a group. About how they hold space. About their willingness to be present and vulnerable and genuinely invested in other people's growth.

That same philosophy extends to our team: We're very selective about who we work with. Skills matter, obviously. But skills without alignment is a disaster waiting to happen.

We need people who care about progression—their own and the team's. Who value community over ego. Who are willing to do hard things with honesty and humor. Who understand that the work matters and that life outside the work matters.

People who get that the journey is the goal. That how we do the work is as important as what we produce.

If you're just here for a paycheck or a line on your CV or because you want to work for a startup that sounds cool at dinner parties—this isn't it.

But if you're here because you actually believe in what we're building, because you want to be part of creating something that matters, because you want your work to reflect your values—then welcome. You're our people.

We Live What We're Doing

We can't sell transformation if we're not willing to transform on a mountain. We can't sell challenge if we're not willing to be challenged in a desert. And we can't sell genuine connection if we're hiding behind professionalism and performance in how we work together.

We have to live it.

That means: when things get hard—and they do, because building something new is inherently hard—we don't retreat into corporate modes of operating.

We lean into the discomfort. We have the hard conversation. We admit what's not working. We ask for help. We show up honestly, even when (especially when) it's uncomfortable.

That means: we actually build community within the team. We care about each other as humans, not just as functions in an org chart. We make space for people to bring their whole selves to work—the parts that are struggling, the parts that are thriving, all of it.

That means: we practice what we preach about mindset. About approaching difficulty with curiosity instead of ego. About learning from failure. About finding joy in the work even when it's hard.

We're not perfect at this. We fail regularly. But we're trying. And we're trying in ways that are consistent with what we're asking of our customers, our athletes, our partners.

The way we work is the way we live.

If there's a gap between those two things—if we're one way internally and a different way externally—people will feel it. And they should. Because that gap is inauthenticity, and inauthenticity is poison.

What This Actually Looks Like

Concretely, in practice, on a Tuesday afternoon when things are messy and deadlines are looming and someone just made a mistake that's going to cost us time and money:

• We don't panic. We assess. We figure out what we can learn. We adjust. We keep moving.
• We don't blame. We take ownership collectively. If something failed, it's a system failure, not a person failure. We fix the system.
• We don't optimise for looking good. We optimise for actually being good. Which means admitting when we're not. Which means being honest about what's working and what isn't.
• We make space for life. If someone needs to take a Wednesday afternoon to go ride their bike because they've been grinding for two weeks straight and they're fried—they take it. Because we're humans, not machines. And human sustainability matters.
• We have hard conversations early. If something's not working—in the product, in the team dynamic, in a partnership—we talk about it now, not six months from now when it's a crisis. Discomfort now is better than disaster later.
• We default to trust. We hire people we trust and then we actually trust them. We don't micromanage. We don't require performative busyness. We set the direction, provide the resources, and let people own their work.
• We stay humble. We're building something cool, yes. But we're not special. We're just people trying to do good work in a way that aligns with our values. We stay curious. We stay open to being wrong. We stay willing to learn.

That's what it looks like. Day to day. Week to week. When no one's watching and when everyone's watching.

Why This Matters

You could build a version of Loaf that's purely transactional. That optimises for profit over everything else. That treats athletes like inventory and customers like revenue and team members like resources.

It would probably work, for a while. But it wouldn't be Loaf.

Because what we're building isn't just a product or a platform or a business model.

We're building a way of doing things. A proof of concept that you can build something successful without compromising on what matters. That you can scale without losing soul. That you can be profitable and purposeful. Efficient and human.

That the way you work can reflect the way you want to live. And that matters because the world doesn't need another soulless, optimised, growth-at-all-costs business.

It needs models for how to build things differently. How to work in ways that actually sustain us rather than drain us. How to create value that's measured not just in money but in meaning.

The way we work is the way we live.

Not separate. Not compartmentalised. Not a performance for Monday through Friday and a different reality on the weekends. One life. One set of values. One way of showing up.

In the mountains and at the desk. With customers and with each other. When things are easy and when they're hard. All of it, integrated. All of it, aligned.

That's what we're building. And we're building Loaf by living it.