Been There, Now What?

Shedding Shame, Chasing Curiosity, and Giving Yourself Permission to Pivot

I recently caught up with my coached athlete, Marc—a busy business owner and dad in his fifties.

He finished his first Ironman last year in Madison, a place near and dear to him as a University of Wisconsin alum, and was elated, ready to make triathlon a bigger part of his life.

Eager for the next challenge, he registered for the historic Ironman Lake Placid, a difficult yet rewarding course that climbs through the Adirondacks.

But he wasn’t on the start line last weekend in New York. During his build, he battled injuries and illnesses and fell out of love with training, especially cycling. Because he couldn’t consistently exercise the way he wanted, he lost fitness. As a result, he lost confidence and decided to defer to Placid 2026.

After doing his first Ironman, he now felt he had “been there, done that”—a mentality with which I could relate. After racing Kona in the fall and achieving a multiyear goal, I needed a mental and physical break.

The post-race (or post-Ibiza) blues are real. The “Nova Effect” makes it hard to go back to reality after a peak experience. My buddy Chris is dealing with this after an epic monthlong solo trip across Asia. Seeking advice on how to reassimilate back to life in the States, I asked him how he can honor such a memorable time abroad in his daily life back home.

When your goals change, your “why” will likely change too. The reason you do your first Ironman or World Champs likely won’t be the same reason you do your second, third, or fourth.

Getting better to set a personal best is great, but in my experience, there needs to be a stronger anchor. What’s motivating you to not hit snooze and head to the pool at 6 a.m. when you’re fatigued? To get out the door for your transition run after a five-hour bike ride in the heat of the day? To get your afternoon strength session in after that morning track workout when your friends are at your favorite brewery?

Kona was my North Star for eight years. Because I didn’t have the experience I dreamed of in 2024, it still is in some ways. The goal can be the same, the timeline may just change.

I ask myself variations of two questions when considering my next race, project, or adventure:

1. What do I want to train for?

2. Does it scare me?

If you don’t like the process, it’s not worth it. The race is the cherry on top. It’s the icing on the cake. It’s the celebration commemorating all your hard work in training. Race day is great, don’t get me wrong, but are you enjoying the other 364?

And if you’re not even a little intimidated, or at least excited, dream bigger. What will force you to think outside the box? To become someone you’ve never been? To learn and grow?

Whatever you decide to take on, pursue it with intention and focus so you can look back on the process with pride, regardless of outcome. The immersion is the therapy.

Inspiration and motivation are fleeting. Commitment and discipline are unwavering.

Knowing the destination is not the same as traveling to it.

What do you love so much that you will make it important enough to do every day?

You can keep going through the motions, and broadcasting your intent, but until you fully commit, it's a fucking waste of time…unless, of course, you don't want to be transformed.

Heart—and passion—is the true source of power, while muscle is just the tool we use to express it.

- Mark Twight, Heart

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been one to finish what I start. I persist in the face of obstacles, maybe to a fault, and hope I encourage others to do the same through my actions.

Keeping your word and following through are valuable; however, if your heart’s not in it, listen and adjust accordingly. It’s okay.

This topic came up in a recent conversation with my buddy Greg. After sharing my feelings of self-judgment and shame about my endurance goals changing, he lifted me up:

“But you didn’t quit your job to do Ironman. You quit your job to pursue endurance and coach others, and that doesn’t have to only be triathlon.”

Give yourself permission to pivot. To explore new avenues. For the form, your form, to evolve, especially when your curiosity is leading you down a different path than you’ve previously taken.

What feels like play to you, but looks like work to others?

- Naval