Make the Choice You’ll Be Most Proud Of: How I fell in Love with the Open Water

"We all have a burning desire to thrive in life... The difference is between those who acknowledge the flames and set their world on fire with passion, and those who fear the flames and keep them contained so that they don't disrupt the world. Which are you surrounding yourself with? And more importantly, which are you?" -Chelsea Marie Neal

I always loved swimming. I started taking swimming lessons at an early age, and I’ve loved being in the water for as long as I can remember. We had a boat growing up and went on regular trips to the ocean - I never feared the water. 

My Ironman journey started in the pool. I was at the gym swimming with my Dad, and asked him how many laps I would have to swim to complete a half Ironman swim distance. We did the math, and I had already swam the distance, plus some. By now I had already completed 4-5 sprint triathlons, so the gears in my mind started turning as I started pondering the possibilities. The next day, I asked my dad, “Hey Dad, you’re doing Ironman Waco 70.3, right?” He responded yes and I said “cool, I just signed up.” He must have been shocked. I think he remembers that day better than I do. I’ve always jumped into things head first, so I hit the register button before I could talk myself out of it. 

I had the swimming part down, and I just needed to get better at the bike and running. Or so I thought. I could swim laps in a pool all day, but now it was time for my first open water swim in the lake. No big deal, right? WRONG! 

My first open water swim was in April of 2018. I purchased my first wetsuit, and met a group for a early Saturday morning swim. The first few minutes they were giving tips on sighting but I was just eager to get in the water and go. I was ready! But as soon as we took off, I got kicked in the ribs. I sucked in water through my mouth and my nose, and was swimming all over the place. I was gasping for breathe and my heart felt like it was going to explode. I found a buoy and held on for my life. A man in a kayak came by and asked if I was okay. “How embarrassing,” I thought. My Dad tried to help, but I was so frustrated that I just wanted out of the water. I was freezing, couldn’t breathe, and my ribs were so tender. I made it to the shore and climbed out of the water feeling so defeated. “What have I done? What have I gotten myself into? I can’t do this. This was supposed to be my strength and I could hardly make it a full lap.” 

I was supposed to go for a bike ride after the open water swim, but I felt so defeated. I told my Dad I was going home. He didn’t say anything, but I felt immediate disappointment even in the silence. I got in my car, but couldn’t go anywhere. I started having a full blown anxiety attack - I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stop crying. It was an awful feeling. I just wanted to give up and go home and forget this stupid Ironman race.  

At that moment, I pulled down my mirror and looked at myself. I said OUT LOUD, “SO, are you going to quit? You have two options right now. If you go home, you’ve let your anxiety win - AGAIN. You will feel shame and regret that you gave up and didn’t keep fighting. But if you keep going, then you win. It’s YOUR turn to win. For so many years you’ve rolled over and let your fear eat you up. But you’re stronger than that. This is YOUR moment to fight back, and WIN. So what are you going to do?”

At that moment, I was fired up. I’m not sure exactly what I felt, whether it was anger or determination or both. I thought of all the years my anxiety won, all the years it controlled me. And it made me so enraged because nothing that made me feel so small deserved that kind of power over me. This was MY moment and nothing was going to take that from me. I wiped my tears and put my car into drive and showed up at the bike ride. My Dad lit up as I pulled up. He fully expected me to quit and go home. I fully expected that outcome too. 

From that point on, I had a different relationship with fear. I no longer saw it as paralyzing, but simply recognized it as a challenge. I didn’t always win, but the difference now was that I never allowed myself to be defeated. I would fall, but I would get back up. I would freak out in the water, but I would keep going. I would hear “ I can’t I can’t I can’t” but would fight back with “YES YOU CAN.” 

I didn’t realize at the time, but this would be the very first time in my life that I would consciously alter my state of mind to overcome fear. It would also create one of the many mental building blocks that would lay the foundation for my Ironman Journey. 

"When you FEAR your struggles, your struggles CONSUME you. When you FACE your struggles, you OVERCOME them."

The Beginning: Part III – The Comeback

The Beginning: Part III – The Comeback

April 22, 2017, Ironman Texas 140.6 Race Morning:

The racers suited up in their wetsuits as they prepared for a long, grueling day of racing. The volunteers marked the number “581” on my Dad’s arms, age 57 on his calf. I had seen it all before, I knew the drill - but this morning was different than any other race morning. 7 months prior to this morning, I woke up not knowing whether my Dad would live to make it back to the US, or if he would ever toe another Ironman starting line. But here he was, and I was so full of emotion – nerves, excitement... but mostly gratitude.

We wished him good luck as he approached the dock, and we ran to the bridge to watch the race begin. As we watched the sea of colored swim caps like a school of fish swimming over each other, I did my absolute best to replace all of my worry with faith. My Dad took his time on the swim, strategically staying away from the other racers to prevent getting kicked in his ribs. He completed the 2.4 mile swim in 1:50:08, and I felt an immediate sense of relief as he exited the canal. "He’s got this," I sighed. 

He began the bike portion of the race, and I got to see him on his way out. He looked strong, he was smiling even... That was my Dad - a true Ironman. He completed the 112 mile bike course in 6:10:09. This was slower than his normal pace, but still impressive given the circumstances. I knew once he made it on the run course, there was no stopping him. It was a hot day, but I knew he had the willpower to keep moving forward despite whatever challenges he may face. He completed the marathon, 26.2 miles, in 5:13:00. Heck, that's about my marathon time now!

My Dad completed Ironman Texas 140.6 7 months after the accident in a total time of 13:33:31. Watching my Dad cross the finish line was the proudest, most surreal moment of my life. I remember seeing him approach the red carpet, and tears immediately started falling uncontrollably. I ran alongside the finish line chute, fighting the crowd to get to the end so I could wrap my arms around him and tell him how proud I was. I was overwhelmed with happiness. He did it. He defied all odds against him, he fought the battle before him, and he did it – he made his comeback. And little did I know at the time that this moment would plant a seed in my heart that would change my life forever.  

"Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny..." - C.S. Lewis

The Beginning: Part II - The Recovery

The Beginning: Part II - The Recovery

"Let us run with perserverance the race marked out for us." 

- Hebrews 12:1 

The day had arrived. After a month of waiting, worrying, and praying, my Dad was finally cleared to fly and my parents would be returning home from Australia after what seemed like a lifetime. I remember the moment so vividly – I watched their car approaching the driveway with the excitement of a small child waving down an ice cream truck. They pulled up and got out of the car, and my Dad couldn’t take two steps before I leaped in to wrap my arms around him. Only I didn’t receive the big bear hug I had imagined. He was so weak, so frail, so thin. My arms wrapped all the way around him. I remember pulling away because I felt like if I squeezed too hard I might break him. My strong, Ironman Dad now seemed so fragile. This was an unfamiliar feeling. He still didn’t quite sound like himself either, and he looked like he had aged 10 years since I last saw him. This was going to be a long recovery. But I wanted to be there every step of the way, in any and every way I could.

During the initial weeks of recovery, my Dad spent his days in a recliner. It was still hard for him to move around, and laying in bed was too uncomfortable. He slept sitting up in the recliner every night, and it was heartbreaking to see every morning I came out of my room. My Mom would monitor his medications, and made sure he did his breathing exercises every day. He had to use a machine to train his lungs to fully inflate properly. Breathing and slow movements were the extent of his exercise abilities. I didn’t want to bring up triathlons or his race, because I could tell that it crushed him to not be able to do any of the things he loved, that would normally take up a large portion of his time. He was already retired at this point, so his days consumed of training and teaching spin classes and sharing his passion for the sport. Then one day, the discussion about Ironman Texas came up. He was already signed up to race in April of 2017, but we all just assumed this was out of the question now. My Dad had different plans. He had 7 months to get ready, and he was going to do anything and everything it took to get himself to that starting line, ready to race.

Quitting was never an option for my Dad. If it ever crossed his mind, he didn’t show it. I was a Certified Personal Trainer and had experience with injury rehab, so he asked me to help his recovery as soon as the doctors cleared him. The first time we went train together, he attempted a short spin on the stationary bike, with the lightest resistance. He was in so much pain the next day. The road to recovery was not going to be easy. He still had wounds from surgery that were healing, so he wasn’t cleared to swim for a few more weeks. When he was finally able, he started out just walking laps in the pool. He worked with a physical therapist and had regular doctor appointments.

The support from the Triathlon Community continued through my Dad’s recovery. I don’t think my Mom had to cook for 2 months, and our fridge was never empty. I was working during the day, but it seemed like every time I came home there would be new gifts from people who came to visit them while I was gone. Even people from Australia were keeping in touch online and checking in on my parents. I felt a new connection to the sport and my Dad's Triathlon club, and I finally began to understand why this community was such a big part of his life. 

As April 2017 approached, my Dad slowly began to regain strength, and some of the muscle and weight he had drastically lost in the hospital. When he returned home, Ironman Texas seemed like an impossible journey, but I never wanted to discourage him. He needed that vision to heal, to get through the pain, to work towards something. And he fought hard to get there, every single day, despite the frustration, the setbacks, and the daily challenges that were presented to him. Race weekend arrived, and I couldn’t wait to go to the Woodlands to support his comeback race. Of course my Mom and I were nervous, but He. Was. Determined. No matter how long it took him, this Ironman Finish would be his.

The Beginning: Part I - The Horror Crash

The Beginning: Part I - The Horror Crash

"The righteous man who walks with integrity; blessed are their children who follow them."

- Proverbs 20:7

I didn’t wake up one day and decide I wanted to Swim 2.4 miles, Bike 112 miles, and then run a marathon. The spark that started my Ironman Journey was lit by the Triathlon community, and before I knew it that spark cultivated to a raging fire of passion. I had 12 years of influence watching my Dad and my Uncle race. I always thought they were crazy, that I would never be capable of such a task. In my eyes, there was something superhuman about them that I did not possess. I would go to their Ironman events and think to myself, “These people LOOK normal… How are they able to complete such a daunting, all day event? I’m tired just watching!” For years I asked myself the question, “HOW?” I saw how much work my Dad put into training every week - I would see him leave for his long training days and five hours later he would come home and carry on with his day. It almost seemed easy! I figured surely this sport was only for the naturally talented, because the distances he would go just seemed inhuman. I determined that my Dad and Uncle had some incredible endurance gene, that was clearly not passed on to me. Over time I learned that for years I had been asking myself the wrong question. I was asking “HOW” when I should have been asking “WHY.”

Fast forward 12 years. My Dad was improving every year at Triathlons at all distances. Instead of getting tired of it, he became more focused, and more driven. In April of 2016, my Dad qualified for the Ironman 70.3 World Championship in Australia. He and my Mom traveled there in September of 2016, and my Dad finished strong in his race. It was their 30^th anniversary, so they had plans to sightsee after the race in the country where they had traveled for their honeymoon. Their celebration ended early when they were T-Boned by a dump truck. Instead of exploring the coast of Australia and New Zealand, they spent the next several weeks in the hospital, where my Dad would lay in a medically induced coma while recovering from 2 punctured lungs, a punctured diaphragm, ribs broken in 15 places, and a broken scapula. My Mom stayed at a nearby hotel and walked to the hospital to see him every day, with injuries and broken bones of her own.

I was living in California when I heard the news of the accident. I hadn’t heard from them but I figured they were just busy exploring, and the time difference made it difficult to communicate anyways. But I received a short message from my Mom, that they were in an accident but would be okay. My stomach dropped and I just had this gut feeling that it was worse than she made it sound. I felt so alone and didn’t know who to call, so I called my boss. I rushed to my office to meet her where we called the hospital in Australia and I demanded to speak to my Dad, I NEEDED to hear from him to know he was okay. They were able to get him on the phone (just before they put him in the coma) and I wept uncontrollably as soon as I heard his voice. He sounded so different. He didn’t sound like my Dad. He sounded so weak, so quiet. I thought to myself “I can’t lose him. He can’t die. He is so strong. He is an Ironman. He just competed in the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP. This can’t be happening.” And then it hit me. I thought, “if he survives, his triathlon career is over. And that is going to crush him.” The thought of that broke my heart. I didn’t know what to do, how to help. I was literally on the other side of the world from them. I felt SO alone.

I went home and lay on my couch in silence, staring at the ceiling. I felt paralyzed. I talked to a few family members, who all assured me that it would be okay. I knew they were just trying to be strong for me. I opened up my computer and saw that I had tons of messages – mostly people I didn’t know – checking on my Dad, my mom, and on my sister and I. They were members of his Triathlon Club, and people he trained with, as well as some of their neighbors. They all wanted to help, and they all gave me words of encouragement. I didn’t feel so alone. These people genuinely cared about my parents, and even about me, and they didn’t even know me! I immediately had this longing to be back in Texas, to be home. To be surrounded by the people that loved and cared for my family.

I put in my two weeks at work, and sold everything in my apartment. I packed up my car with all that was left, and my dog, and headed back to Texas. I made a few stops along the way and stayed with family friends, and arrived to my parents house 3 days later, but they were still in the hospital in Australia. My Dad was still in a coma, so he didn’t even know I was moving home. I walked in the front door of their house, and the house was empty. I had secured a job before I left California, and was to start in a few days. But I didn’t know what to do in the meantime. I sat there in the quiet house, alone. But as soon as the word spread that I was home, I started getting messages, and phone calls, and texts. The doorbell would ring, and there would be neighbors and members of the Triathlon Club standing there with food, and gifts. My Mom told me how the local triathletes and clubs were visiting my Dad in the hospital, and sending gifts and signed hats and water bottles from the local pros. My heart was overflowing from their compassion and I finally felt like things were going to be okay. I could finally sleep, and wake up without an instant, gut-wrenching feeling of panic and worry. These strangers, the Triathlon Community, felt like family. I had always thought of triathlons being an individual sport. You get yourself to the starting line, and you find your way to the finish. But after 12 years, I finally realized that it was so much more. There was a special bond these athletes shared. The spark was lit.  

"...From a tiny spark may burst a mighty flame." - Dante

Crash Video

Sporting Groups Support Texan Couple After Horror Crash

IRONman Sharpens IRONman

IRONman Sharpens IRONman

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another."

Proverbs 27:17 

The Ironman Journey is like no other. It forces you to push yourself past your physical and mental limits, and to address every obstacle that stands in your way head on. No Ironman has gotten where they are by pretending to be great. They have gotten where they are because they have put in the time, the preparation, the pain, and the effort to be great. No Ironman has gotten where they are easily. They have not gotten where they are by avoiding their weaknesses, but by acknowledging them and accepting them as a challenge to be better.

As Triathletes, we all acknowledge these truths in one another. There is an unspoken automatic bond among triathletes that they have experienced and fought similar battles. They have fought their ways out of the trenches, they have pushed their way through unfamiliar circumstances and uncomfortable amounts of pain, and they have faced the mental demons that urge you to quit when you've reached the lowest of lows. We can speak of unforgettable memories on the race course, and a lifetime of lessons learned throughout the journey. And that is why, sometimes our greatest weapon in this sport, is each other.

I have created this blog to share some of the most valuable lessons I have learned throughout my journey, what I have learned from other athletes, and how the sport of Triathlon has and continues to change and shape me. I hope it inspires a few along the way who are training for their first Ironman, or even their first triathlon, or even just someone who needs something positive in their life to bring them purpose and passion.

"You have to fall in love with the process of becoming great."