Kona 2024: Injury News
Hawaiian dream turned nightmare
I hate when people say, “everything happens for a reason.” It doesn’t. Shit happens, and then we make meaning of the obstacle, hardship, or difficulty after the fact. Some things objectively suck, and that’s okay.
On Saturday 10/5, an MRI confirmed that I have a stress reaction and fracture in my pelvis, specifically my right inferior pubic ramus. This news was delivered to me only three weeks out from the Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii.
For those unfamiliar, Kona is where the world’s best triathletes embark upon a 140.6-mile journey - a test of mind, body, and spirit. The historic race takes athletes through the clear waters of Kailua Bay, along the wind-swept coast, and across the barren lava fields of the Island of Hawaii, where strength, grit, and heart must be summoned to navigate challenging race conditions. Through 40+ years of stellar athletic prowess, emotional performances, and inspiring achievements, the Ironman World Championship has etched a reputation as the pinnacle of the triathlon landscape and an iconic global sporting event.
Like anyone who earns their spot to race on the biggest stage in the sport, I’ve worked toward Kona for many years, especially since I was hit by a car training for my first triathlon in 2019. Kona is the reason I got into the sport. It is the race. I first wrote down my goal of getting to Kona when I was a rising junior in college. I remember it vividly. I was in Snowbird, Utah at Horizons Leadership Summit for Sigma Chi Fraternity. Us Sigs were filling out our “life maps” with our ambitions and specific action items needed to achieve them. For whatever reason, I wrote, “Ironman World Championship by 30.” I wanted to conquer the physical world. Well, that would’ve meant summiting Everest, which I also wrote down, but I saw Ironman as a way to explore my limits by completing one of the hardest single-day endurance events in the world.
Eight years later, here we are. When I learned the extent of my injury, I sobbed, sulked, pointed fingers, and felt sorry for myself. I still do sometimes. I moved to Boulder for triathlon. I quit my finance job to go all in, qualify, and have a breakthrough performance in Kona. For the past six months since Ironman Texas, my training had been going according to plan - until it suddenly wasn’t. It’s been a complete 180°- from training 20+ hours/week and being the fittest I’ve ever been, to being told to fully offload, be non-weight bearing, and that my Kona dream would not be realized this year.
When I shared the bad news with friends, I heard, “you wouldn’t want it to be easy” and “if I know Adam Holz, I know a comeback.” True, but not useful. It hasn’t been easy. This was the comeback. I’ve been grieving and questioning whether the decisions and sacrifices I’ve made to make this a reality were worth it. When I zoom out, I know they were, but to get so close for my dream to slip through my fingers at the last minute was devastating. I held on to the belief that competing, in some capacity, was still possible. Delusional? Maybe, but it didn’t feel right to just call it quits.
Beautifully written ❤️
not an easy one to deal with Adam! the joy is in the process, even if the process sucks sometimes.