Top 4 Favorite Tri Memories of the Decade

This has been such a fun exercise. I’m always looking ahead, so it’s nice to look back once more.

Before I share my final favorite memories, now is a great time to thank the people most responsible for empowering and encouraging me to pursue this crazy sport 10 years later.

Everything starts and stops with my wife, Stephanie. She could have been done with me a long time ago, considering it’s true what people say about spouses and triathlon “widows.” Instead, Steph still leaves Post-It notes on the bathroom mirror, encouraging me by saying how impressed she is that I’m up at 5 a.m. to start my training. Steph is the one who really pushed me over the top to start Good Wolf Coaching. I’m an extremely lucky man to have such a special wife.

Obviously, my mom, dad and children have been a huge inspiration too. I hope I’ve set a good example for them, win or lose.

I’d like to thank my coaches. I learned a lot from them over the years, and their imprint can be found in various ways as I form my own philosophies and approaches.

Next, I’d like to shout-out my teammates past and present. You’ve always motivated me and been the best team-oriented support network in any sport I’ve played.

Of course, I must mention my Good Wolf Coaching family. You saw something in me even when I wasn’t so sure at the onset, and now we’re on a roll. Thank you for believing in me!

Finally, I’d like to thank the people who read this blog. I’m surprised whenever anyone tells me they have or still do read. I write for myself, but it’s so nice knowing I’m not alone.

4) “Daddy, we can look at the ducks?” Going into Ironman Arizona 2018, I brimmed with confidence. Training was on point, and for the first time in the last three years, I was sleeping and training regularly. I expected that to translate to a possible sub-10 hour Ironman performance. It did not. I found myself chasing the clock following a slower-than-expected swim and a bike ride that felt harder than it should have.

By the time I got more than halfway through the run, I knew I’d not even be able to match my previous best race times at Ironman Arizona. I was dejected. So dejected that my mind became preoccupied with quitting rather than setting a good example for Audra, who was old enough to attend her first Ironman race and appreciate what was happening.

I trudged past Steph, my friends Jason and Russ, and Audra at mile 17. I slowed to a walk and flatly told everyone I was done. I wanted to quit. I sucked, raced two Ironmans already in 2018 and just didn’t want to be there anymore.

Audra could tell I was really hurting, physically and mentally. She lovingly looked up at me and pointed to Tempe Town Lake, “Daddy, we can go watch the ducks?”

That sounded like the best idea ever. And it was. Audra and I sat to look at the lake water and talk about ducks. In the middle of a race. It was a moment of daddy-daughter joy in the middle of a total sufferfest disaster.

Meanwhile, Steph, Russ and Jason all were trying to convince me to get up and keep going. Finally, Steph used reverse psychology. “Fine, let’s go home. Audra is hungry, I’m hungry and you’re right, there’s no need to finish what you started in front of us.”

Um, OK. Done and done. Off I went, and finished what I started that day.

Sometimes, stopping to “watch the ducks” is what we need to put our challenge in perspective, along with a good nudge to wake us from our complacency.

3) “I can go faster!” Fast forward several months to Ironman Santa Rosa this past May. Many of you know that my dad has been battling blood cancer. Mitch had undergone a stem cell transplant, writing a novel in the process as he recovered. I saw what he endured and dedicated my race to him before the starting gun had gone off.

Once again, life had caught up with me and I had barely trained going into the race. Nothing more than about six weeks.

Inevitably, that also caught up with me around mile 12 or 13 of the marathon. My pace slowed, cramps started to set in, and I could picture my friends tracking me turning off their cell phones in disappointment. Then I remembered my dad. Deep down I got really pissed off and vowed that this race was going to be different. It was time to fight and push past this garbage.

I took some Advil from my special needs bag, walked with purpose and tried to jog. What started as, “Not today,” became, “I’m feeling better,” which became, “I think I can go faster,” which steamrolled into, “I’m going faster,” and then finally the flywheel took hold, “I can go faster!”

I ran the fastest back-end of an Ironman marathon, finishing running just over 8-minute miles with a vengeance.

After nearly 10 years of Ironman races, I had found my mental and physical breakthrough moment.

Sometimes, when the pain feels too great to continue, you just have to refuse to accept it. You might just find the breakthrough you’ve been looking for.

2) I’m Going to Worlds! In summer 2013, I raced Ironman 70.3 Boulder in the best shape of my life. I’d never been physically stronger. That resulted in the best single 70.3 race from a pure finish time perspective, nearly cracking 4:49. My then-coach, Gerardo, thought I might have a shot at an Ironman World Championships roll down slot if I was patient at the awards ceremony. I didn’t think it was going to happen, but then Mother Nature intervened.

It rained leading up to and during the awards ceremony, which was outdoors and not tented. People started streaming out for shelter. Not me, I knew this was my best chance to earn a slot. Sure enough, my name got called and I raised my arms triumphantly. I couldn’t believe I’d be able to claim a spot at the World Championships, which were held in Las Vegas that year. I remember calling Steph and my family so thrilled, and the dinner that evening with my then-teammates was so joyful.

Showing up to Las Vegas, I remember seeing the World Championships finisher’s chute being constructed. The pit in my stomach grew as I knew I was about to race with the best triathletes in the world. My pride swelled too though. Even if the water was brown with mud and rain, and the air swirled with dust from a windstorm. Yuck.

Sometimes, you have to be patient to earn what’s yours. And when the moment comes, you have to grab onto it!

1) First Ironman Finish Chute: Everyone remembers their first time.

By today’s standards and the way Ironman races are now managed, I probably wouldn’t have finished my first Ironman. I needed medical attention on the course during the marathon when my IT bands locked up and I literally couldn’t walk. Today, you won’t find on-course medical support where you can just pull over for a quick massage. I started dry-heaving late in the race too. If the medics had seen me, I probably would have been pulled. I was clearly dehydrated and out of gas.

Yet, reaching mile 25 on the marathon, I vividly remember thinking about my grandfather, who had passed five years earlier. I knew how proud he’d have been and how happy that made me feel. I felt like I was lifted off the ground in that last mile, and by the time I came into the finish chute, you would have thought I was dead Palpatine brought to life the way I was screaming and my fingertips were spread in the air —practically shooting electricity bolts to the heavens.

I don’t remember running through the finish chute but I do remember feeling afterwards like I was Rocky Balboa at the end of a 15-round fight. I remember my training partner Bob picking me off the ground like I won a prizefight. I remember how excited my family and friends were. Probably relieved more than anything else.

Sometimes, we just have to realize that how we finish doesn’t always matter as much as finishing what we started. Just get to the damn finish line. And if there’s no finish line in sight…keep going. Just keep going! You never know what insight or breakthrough is right around the corner.