The Miles That Make You with Brooke Johnson

Brooke Johnson spent 119 days skating over 3,200 miles, setting a world record as the first woman to ever skateboard across the entire United States. Mic drop. 

She fell in love with skateboarding young. When she was 13, she bought a longboard off a neighborhood kid for twenty bucks and that was it. By 16, when everyone else was getting their first cars, she was cruising around town on her board instead.

After losing her stepdad, Roger, to a spinal cord injury, Brooke decided to make the cross-country journey in his honor and to show girls what it looks like to trust your body, your instincts, and the goals that feel bigger than you.

She started in Venice Beach (where Margot Robbie’s Barbie and Ryan Gosling’s Ken famously rollerskated) and ended in Virginia Beach, documenting each day on social. Her team followed in a van to make sure she was safe, but for the most part, she was totally alone, building a community of strangers and TikTok friends as she went. 

Brooke joined Sunnie to talk about all of it: how she kept going, what she learned, and how you can stick with your goals, too (even if you’re not out here, you know, shredding gnar).

We were cheering you on through TikTok, as were so many others – but you were the only one actually experiencing it all! What was the most exciting part for you?

I got so excited when we started getting bigger on TikTok. People were stopping. It was the strangers who stopped on the side of the road and were like, “Do you need water? You look thirsty. ” It was people saying, “Please keep going. We're watching your story. We need you.”

I told the team at the beginning of the whole thing, “You know what, our world is kind of a hard place right now, and we get to be the light this summer. We get to show people that there's a little bit of hope out here.”

It started to get attention on TikTok — people got so excited. It was all the comments that started to come in, all the people, and all the support. The calls from my mom, “How you doing? You good? Do you need me?”

In the middle of nowhere, it's really hard to get to us, and people would still show up. I think it's the people who started showing up randomly and just kept cheering me on, or who brought us into their home and cooked us dinner. We were in the middle of Missouri, and this woman was like, “Come stay at my inn.” She cooked us a whole roast. We hadn't had a home-cooked meal in weeks. We couldn't have done it without those people. So if you're ever feeling lonely, it's so special that even on this idea of a solo adventure, you can really still find that community. I was never really alone.

What’s one thing you learned about yourself through this?

I learned that I thrive when I’m fighting for something bigger than myself. Skating across America wasn’t just a physical challenge, it had purpose. Meanwhile, the small routine things, like going to the gym, weirdly feel harder because there’s no finish line to chase. This journey showed me that my heart responds to meaning more than routine. When I anchor what I’m doing to a mission, I become unstoppable.

This was a huge and literally record-breaking trip, and I could imagine there were a few days that might have felt a little impossible. What kept you going when you wanted to stop?

Yeah, so there was a moment when I was about two weeks away from the finish line, and we decided that I had to skate about 50 miles a day consecutively for two weeks. I was coming up on my 50 miles, and I got stopped by a police officer. 

He was like, “You can't skate here,” and I was like, “Come on, please, I'm really close.” He's like, “No, you gotta go. You gotta go around.” And that was a 40-mile detour. It took me another day. I had to add on. I was in tears. I was in shambles. I was like, “You guys, I don't know if I'm able to do this. My body hurts, I'm crying.” He said, “If I were you, I'd be crying.” 

And I sat down by myself and was like, “Okay, you know what? We don't let a hard thing stop us. We've made it this far. I’ve skated hundreds of miles. I'm not gonna let this police officer get me down.” So I turned around, I skated back, and I told my team, “Okay, I'm gonna do 40 miles.” I cried for probably 10 of those miles, just upset and frustrated, and then I pulled myself out of it. I was like, “Maybe something came of that. Maybe I wasn't supposed to go down that road. Maybe it's better that way.” 

I started saying, “Maybe it was my stepdad protecting me,” because I did this for my stepdad. Every sign that came along the way, I was like, “Okay, maybe he sees something I don't.” So I really just looked internally and kept pushing. I think that's the one thing that really kept me going — I didn't have any option but to keep going.

You said it’s about looking internally. What did that look like for you?

I had to find the version of myself that was good enough. Every time I would see my reflection in a puddle, with water splashing on me, crazy things flying off of semitrucks — yes, that happened — I would be so dirty, sitting on the side of the road, and think, “Oh my goodness, I am good enough. I look amazing. I feel good.” And I reminded myself of that.

A lot of it started with my self-speak. That self-speak started in the morning when I would wake up and think, “I don't want to get up today. My feet hurt.” Then I was like, “I'm doing this for so many more people than just me. I'm waking up, I'm going to get out there, and I'm going to be confident. No matter what the world holds, I'm ready for it.”

I used to write this thing on my mirror when I was in middle school. It was a quote I saw: “I didn't wake up today to be mediocre,” and I constantly reminded myself of that. I'm going to show up, because this is the best day ever to be alive.

If there's one thing you take away, I want you all to know it's the way you speak to yourself. It's something I've been working on, something I wish someone told me when I was young — and it's something I'm still working on.

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Did you have any “I’m really doing this” moments?

Yeah, I think the specific moment was when I had come through Joshua Tree right after climbing this massive hill that was really hard. Then I saw a sign that said “No Service for the Next 100 Miles.” And I was like, “What does that mean? What did I do?” But I was like, “Well, I guess I just have to go.”

The desert is a really quiet place. It feels like you’re in a soundproof room. So I was skating for about five miles into this 100-mile stretch, and I just yelled, “Hello!” And there was no echo. I thought, “Oh my gosh… I’m out here by myself.” My team was 20 miles back. It was just me and the road. Not a car for like 45 minutes.

We were just in the desert. And for me, that’s when it really hit. I was like, “Holy crap.” That 100-mile sign—that was the moment. 

What was the hardest part of your day while you were skating? 

It was getting up. Getting up is always the hardest part of the day for everyone, and it’s amplified when your body is exhausted. Getting motivated to get moving—it’s hard. But there were days when standing on my feet felt like stepping on a bed of nails. My team would start pushing me from the van, like, “Okay, get up,” and I’d slowly get out of the van and go.  

My team was always 20 to 30 miles behind me, which feels both close and impossibly far when you’re on a longboard. Every morning, they were the ones who got me going. They’d send me off with, "All right, Brooke, get out there." My assistant, Tara, was especially incredible at keeping the energy positive. That support mattered more than they know.

What advice would you give to someone who's trying to find their own team or community?

Oh my gosh. You have to try everything. My Instagram is “Brooke Does Everything,” and it started because I was like, “I need to try more things, because I feel like I haven't found the thing yet.” 

When you're trying new things, trying to make friends, trying a new community, you’ve got to keep going back. You’ve got to stay consistent, because it's not going to fit right the first time, and it's not going to fit right the fifth time. You just have to keep going back. Like, for example, when I started scuba diving. I'm really terrified of the ocean and sharks, and I was so scared under the water. We were in the most beautiful place in the world. My boyfriend is a great diver, and he was like, “You're going to do great. You're going to love it.” I hated it. I was wearing really yellow-tinted goggles, and everything looked brown. No fish looked like Nemo. I was so disappointed. I didn't feel like the Little Mermaid.

Finally, on our last dive, we switched goggles, and everything was in color. I was like, “I can see everything now.” It took so many different tries, and now I like scuba diving. Now I feel like Ariel. But I didn't feel like Ariel in the beginning.

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When you're doing something, keep going back. You're not going to be great the first time. When I learned to skate, I wasn't good. You just have to keep trying and be easy on yourself.

It's my first time here on planet Earth, too. And if it's someone's first time, are you going to be mean to them? No. You're going to go easy on them. It's your first time. So go easy on yourself. Keep going. Keep trying.

Your journey has been intense, physically and mentally. How do you find or hold on to joy during all of that?

I love to dance. I would dance on the side of the road by myself. If I got sad or bored or just needed a little oomph and to remember that I had a little spunk in me, I would just dance. I love to dance in my room by myself. I love to dance in my house. I've always loved it. I'm not great, but sometimes you gotta wiggle, and that's what keeps me going. Just a little one, and I feel like, “Yeah, I'm cute.”

What advice do you have for girls doing their best while trying for perfection and comparing themselves to others?

I get a lot of not-so-nice comments on the internet, and my best advice is this: an eagle does not concern itself with the matters of pigeons. We do not worry about noise from people who are not flying where we are headed.

Someone once told me, ‘Do not take advice from people who are not where you want to be.’ That has stayed with me. When I said I wanted to skate across America, so many people asked, ‘Are you sure?’ Even while I was doing it, people continued to doubt me.

The truth is, I made it across the country on my own two feet. People will always question you. Do not listen to their doubts, and do not listen to your fear. Keep your eyes on your goal, stay in your lane, and trust yourself.

Any advice for girls chasing their dreams?

Visualize the finish line. I learned the power of visualization in gymnastics. My coach would make me sit still and run my entire beam routine in my mind. To this day, I can still picture exactly what a perfect 10 looks like.

If you want to be somewhere, see yourself there first. Picture the moment, the environment, the version of you who has already done it, and then work backwards. That’s exactly what I did. I knew I wanted to end up on the other side of the country with a skateboard in my hand. So I asked myself, ‘How do I make that happen?’ That is where the magic of life begins, in the questions we ask ourselves when we stop doubting and start believing.

And here’s the other big thing: do not let fear dictate the life you want to live. Perfectionism will delay your dreams if you let it. Sometimes you have to say, ‘This isn’t perfect, but I’m doing it anyway.’ If you want to post the video, post the video. If you want to try something new, try it. Progress beats perfection every time.

On the road, I’d tell my team, ‘We’re heading toward a finish line that is really a starting line for something new.’ That mindset kept us going. I’ve always wanted to do something big, even before I knew what that “big” thing was. So I kept trying, kept experimenting, kept following curiosity. Deciding to skate across America was my Hail Mary. It was me saying, ‘Alright, let’s see how far this can take me.’ And it took me farther than I ever imagined.”

You’ve said that the trip started as a promise to your stepdad, and it became something bigger. How did that shift—from being for him to also being for you?

It was always for him from the beginning. Honestly, it made our relationship stronger. Even though he wasn’t physically there, I could feel him on the hardest days. Like the first hill we came up—I was pushing up and talking to him the whole time: “Alright, Rog, you’ve got me… I need you with me now.” Then all of a sudden, a cop came up behind me and said, “You can’t be skating on this road at night.” I told him, “It’s safer than skating during rush hour.” He said, “Well, you can’t skate here,” and I said:

“If the men before me could skate on this road, I can skate on this road. So you can either escort me and arrest me at the top, or just escort me and see me on my way. I’m setting a world record.”

And he was like, “Okay.” He put his lights on and followed me. I was scared—I thought, “I might go to jail at the top of this hill, but isn’t that kind of the coolest reason to go to jail?” But he smiled, waved, and wished me well. He said he’d tell the next department I was coming. Departments down the road started talking to each other. That’s when I knew my stepdad was fully with me. Whenever I needed help, someone would show up with a characteristic of his. I kept thinking, “How’d you find this one, Roger?”

Going through all those towns—were there people or moments you’ll carry with you forever? Something you’ll take with you for the rest of your life?

There was a lady in New Mexico—her name’s Shay. She ran a honey farm and lived in something called an earthship. I was having such a hard day, and I walked into her honey shop. She was kind of cold at first. I just started crying. She asked what was wrong, and I told her my story. She said she used to live in her car. She was homeless for a long time. She shared her story with me and said, “You are more capable than you think, and you have to keep going.” 

It started to become like… I’m doing it for them, too – the people who stopped on the side of the road. There was this old farmer in White Deer, Texas. He said, “Someone told me there’s a skater on the side of the road. I have to see it with my own eyes.” I was coming up the hill, and he said, “You look hungry.” And I said, “I am hungry.” He said, “Good, okay,” and offered me food. 

What’s next for you?

I want to keep traveling – I love traveling, and I started as a travel creator. Next, I’ll be hiking the Lord of the Rings hike in New Zealand with my best friend.

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