If you didn’t read my last post (Kona 2024: Race Day), the second story of this four-part Kona series, click the link below:


I’ve received many flattering messages since the race. I don’t take that for granted; however, it’s weird to receive praise from others when you’re not proud of yourself. In response, I’ve felt the need to justify my marathon time. Instead of simply appreciating the compliments, I’ve replied, “…best I could do with a broken pelvis.”
There’s danger in putting all your eggs in one basket. Your self-worth and identity aren’t wrapped up in or tied to one race or even pursuit. Only you care about your finish time. Sure, your loved ones want you to do well because it’s important to you, but they’ll still love you, whether you cross the finish first, last, DNF, or DNS. You are not your results and accomplishments. It’s not what you do, but who you are.

Sometimes the work and fitness don’t show. Sometimes you don’t get the chance to even show them. The frustration is tough to deal with, which is why it’s never good to put too much weight on one day. Keep trusting that you will shine when the right opportunity meets the right day. It’s beautiful when it happens because it’s rare. Enjoy it when you taste it and remain hopeful when it eludes you. The day you’ve been working toward for weeks, months, and even years will come if you keep putting yourself out there and believing.
Just keep in mind that if you keep pushing the edge, you’ll eventually find it. As Sebastian Kienle once said, “there’s a fine line between fit and fucked.” You can’t show up in peak form without running the risk of injury or overtraining. It’s a painful way to learn, but maybe the only way to do so.
I was emotional throughout parts of the race, but oddly didn’t feel much after crossing the finish line in Kona, a moment I’ve visualized for years. What do I make of this? There’s greater fulfillment in the journey of pursuing goals than in the moment of achieving them. To live only for some future goal is shallow. It’s the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top. You’ve already achieved goals you said would make you happy.
After all, Ironman was just an idea made up as a bar bet. You can display your fitness, fortitude, discipline, and resilience in many other ways. There’s more to all this than triathlon. Still, when you drop blood, sweat, and tears (and vomit and urine) in a place, you’re forever connected to it. I’m excited to make some changes, grow stronger, earn my spot back, and see what I’m capable of in Kona when I’m at 100%.
When checking the tracker and results post-race, I noticed familiar names. Guys I shared the podium with at Ironman Texas stood on the podium in Kona. If I can finish in the top half of my AG with a fractured pelvis, I am confident I will be competitive at this event in the future. While I didn’t get the chance to race to my potential this time, I’m leaving with opportunity to wake up every morning and still work toward that performance. The scenic route’s beautiful too.