Tag Archives: personal growth

Sometimes You Just Have to Survive

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August 20, 2026

I apologize for disappearing for a few weeks.

Sometimes life gets busy.

Sometimes training gets hard.

And sometimes you have one of those weeks where the goal isn’t to get faster, stronger, or better.

The goal is simply to survive it.

To make it to the other side.

These last couple of weeks have been some of the hardest I’ve had in a while.

And they taught me something I probably needed to learn.

I’m not 20 anymore.

The Follow-Up

Two weeks ago, I went to my follow-up appointment with the GI specialist.

Turns out I have a severe case of H. pylori.

Great.

At least we finally had a game plan.

Two weeks of antibiotics, get the infection under control, and start moving forward.

Except my body apparently had other plans.

The following week, I barely ran.

Two days.

I had been feeling like my internal body temperature was running hot, but I didn’t have a fever.

My wife would touch my skin and tell me how hot I felt.

I figured it was probably the heat.

I had been running in the heat.

I had spent Sunday in the pool.

Nothing seemed completely out of the ordinary.

Until Friday.

The Day Everything Stopped

I was at work when it happened.

I had been running hot, and then suddenly I became cold and clammy.

Then I started shaking uncontrollably.

My first thought was that I had somehow double-dosed one of my medications.

I called Poison Control.

They told me that even if I had accidentally taken a double dose, what I was experiencing didn’t really fit that situation and that I should be okay.

I got off the phone with my wife and told her I was going to the doctor because I didn’t feel right.

I made it outside to tell my manager that I needed to leave.

I finished my sentence.

And then everything changed.

I became incredibly calm.

Not peaceful.

Not relaxed.

Just…empty.

It felt like everything inside my body suddenly dropped.

My heart felt like it was going to stop.

My lungs didn’t want to cooperate.

I told my manager, “I’m going to pass out in a couple of seconds.”

I gave him my list of medications.

My supplements.

How much I had been exercising.

Everything I could think of that might be important for the EMTs because I honestly didn’t know if I would still be awake when they arrived.

And in that moment, I thought I was going to die.

Funny how your brain works when you think you might not make it.

I wasn’t thinking about running.

I wasn’t thinking about work.

I wasn’t thinking about anything I had accomplished.

I was thinking about my family.

Keeping myself together for them.

My heart rate was around 100 beats per minute, which honestly wasn’t terrible.

But something was clearly wrong.

About five minutes later, the EMTs arrived.

They hooked me up to the machines and started checking everything.

They asked if I wanted to go to the ER.

Yes.

Absolutely.

I could barely walk to the stretcher.

I ended up being carried into the ambulance.

And as we drove to the hospital, my brain went somewhere I didn’t expect.

Where did I go wrong?

What did I do?

What mistake landed me here?

I kept going through everything in my head.

The medications.

The supplements.

The running.

The heat.

The lack of sleep.

The infection.

Work.

Family.

Everything.

I was trying to solve the problem while lying in the back of an ambulance.

The Reality Check

When I got to the hospital, my wife met me in the room.

I spent a lot of time evaluating everything that had happened.

What had I done wrong?

What had I missed?

What had caused this?

And eventually, I came to a pretty simple conclusion.

I had been treating my body like it was the body of the 20-year-old version of me.

That guy could tank almost anything.

But that guy didn’t have the responsibilities I have today.

The 20-year-old version of me didn’t have a family depending on him.

He didn’t have a team at work depending on him to lead.

He didn’t have the same responsibilities.

He didn’t have the same stress.

He didn’t have the same life.

I’m 33 now.

I’m a father.

I’m a partner.

I’m a leader.

People depend on me.

And somewhere along the way, I forgot that my body has limits too.

The doctors were concerned about possible heart issues and elevated CPK levels.

I was put on a no-running restriction until I could meet with my primary care doctor.

And honestly?

I took it hard.

I wanted to run.

I didn’t want to lose the progress I had made.

I was afraid that the weeks and months of work I had put in were going to disappear.

I didn’t want to start over.

Then I started thinking about David Goggins.

I mean, this guy ran while pissing blood.

And here I was lying in an ER because my body wanted to shut down.

I was frustrated.

Embarrassed.

Angry.

I didn’t want to be the guy who stopped.

But Then I Looked Back

I started looking at everything I had been stacking on top of myself.

I was averaging four to five hours of sleep a night.

I had been fighting a bacterial infection that had been affecting me for roughly half a year.

I was running during the hottest parts of the day at 300lbs.

I was stacking supplements.

I was still showing up for my team at work because they needed me.

I was still showing up at home because my family needed me.

I was dealing with other personal issues.

I had other ongoing health issues.

And somehow I expected my body to just keep taking it.

No rest days.

No real recovery.

Just keep pushing.

Keep going.

Keep stacking more.

Eventually, the stack became too heavy.

My body finally said no.

And I was paying the price while lying in a hospital bed.

That was probably the most important lesson of all.

Rest Isn’t Quitting

I had to pivot.

That word has become important to me lately.

Pivot.

Adjust.

Make the correction.

Keep moving.

I started taking medication to help me sleep, and I’m now averaging six to seven hours a night instead of four to five.

I came up with a food plan where I’m eating every couple of hours.

I’m working through my personal issues and getting those resolved.

I stopped taking my supplements until I finish my medications.

None of these things are particularly exciting.

But they are necessary.

Yesterday, I finally met with my PCP.

I told him I felt like the appointment was a waste of time and money because I felt fine, but I wanted to do the right thing and get checked out.

He looked at my labs.

Listened to my heart.

Checked me over.

And basically told me I was healthy as an ox.

I was cleared to run.

I could finally get back out there.

The Fear Was Still There

I wanted to run yesterday.

It was the hottest day of the summer.

Of course it was.

But my body was still recovering.

So I took one more rest day.

That was another lesson.

Being cleared to run doesn’t mean you have to run.

Sometimes listening to your body means choosing not to.

Today, I went back.

Forty minutes.

In the heat.

And I felt great.

Honestly, I felt like I could have kept going.

But this was my first run since the incident.

So I stopped.

This weekend, I’m supposed to run six miles.

And I’m not going to lie.

I’m scared.

Before today’s run, I was texting my wife about it.

I told her I was scared of going out there.

Scared my body would react the same way.

Scared of overheating.

Scared about six miles this weekend.

Scared about what this means for my half marathon.

Scared about whether I can actually accomplish MOAB 240 someday.

I was letting fear dictate my running.

Then my wife brought me back to reality.

Just show up.

Listen to your body.

If you can only do 20 minutes of a 40-minute run, that’s okay.

You showed up.

You tried.

That’s the truth.

Sometimes That’s Enough

There are going to be days when you can run for an hour.

There are going to be days when you can only run for ten minutes.

There are going to be days when you don’t run at all.

The important thing is learning the difference between quitting and listening.

I think I had confused the two.

For a long time, I thought toughness meant pushing through everything.

But maybe real toughness is knowing when to push.

And knowing when to stop.

I’ve done scary things before.

I’ve gone through scary situations.

I’ve been through things that, at the time, I wasn’t sure I would make it through.

So why was this any different?

Because this time I wanted to be comfortable.

I’m not 20 anymore.

I’m not the kid who went through boot camp years ago.

I’m a father.

My family needs me.

Being strong doesn’t mean pretending that doesn’t matter.

It means making sure I’m still here for them.

Back to Work

So today I went out.

I ran for 40 minutes in the heat.

I listened to my body.

I didn’t chase a pace.

I didn’t prove anything.

I just ran.

And when I got home, my body felt like a million dollars.

That’s when I realized something.

We’re cooking now.

The engine is still there.

I just need to stop treating it like it’s indestructible.

I need to trust the plan.

I need to trust the process.

And I need to trust myself enough to make adjustments when something isn’t working.

The Storm

These last couple of weeks have been a storm.

H. pylori.

Medication.

Exhaustion.

An ambulance ride.

An ER visit.

Fear.

Frustration.

A forced break from running.

And a lot of uncomfortable self-reflection.

But storms don’t last forever.

Eventually, you come out the other side.

And sometimes you come out a little different.

I made mistakes.

I pushed too hard.

I didn’t recover.

I ignored some of the signs my body was giving me.

But I also learned.

I pivoted.

I made corrections.

And now I’m moving forward.

Maybe that’s what life really is.

You make a mistake.

You learn from it.

You fix what you can.

You keep moving.

You don’t get to go back and change what happened.

You only get to decide what you do next.

For me, what’s next is simple.

Trust the plan.

Respect the recovery.

Listen to my body.

Show up.

One run at a time.

One mile at a time.

One correction at a time.

Slow.

Steady.

Deliberate.

Forward under load.

Mistakes Make Better Runners

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There are weeks when everything clicks.

There are weeks when you set a personal best.

And then there are weeks where every run teaches you something you didn’t know before.

This was one of those weeks.

Showing Up Anyway

I’ll start with some honesty.

This wasn’t my best week.

It wasn’t my fastest.

It wasn’t my strongest.

It was simply a week where I kept showing up.

Sometimes that’s enough.

Sunday started exactly how I wanted it to.

An hour and a half of upper-body strength training.

Running is helping me lose weight, but I know if I stop lifting, I’ll eventually lose muscle too. I’ve always had broad shoulders and good upper-body strength.

Maybe it’s genetics.

Maybe it’s from years of carrying kids, groceries, backpacks, and every random thing my family asked me to haul around.

I’ll let you decide.

After the gym, I headed out for what was supposed to be a four-mile run.

That’s when I learned a lesson the hard way.

The Day My Knees Caught Fire

Earlier that morning, my knees were bothering me, so I rubbed Icy Hot on them.

Seemed like a good idea.

What I failed to consider was the weather.

It was 98 degrees with a heat index of 107.

I also sweat.

A lot.

About a mile and a half into the run, my knees felt like they were literally on fire.

Not uncomfortable.

Not sore.

On. Fire.

I managed three miles before calling it quits because there was no convincing myself to keep going.

Back home, I tried everything to get the burning to stop.

Then I made mistake number two.

I jumped into a warm shower.

If you’ve ever put Icy Hot on your body, you already know what happened next.

It somehow burned even worse.

The cold shower finally brought some relief, and I spent the next couple of hours sitting in my recliner with cold towels draped across my knees wondering if I was about to become the first person to visit the emergency room because of muscle cream.

Thankfully, by that evening, everything was fine.

Lesson learned.

No more Icy Hot before running.

A Bigger Engine Doesn’t Mean You Floor It

After taking a couple of days off, I was back on Wednesday.

The weather had cooled into the mid-80s.

The plan called for an easy recovery run.

My brain had other ideas.

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve started feeling something different.

I finally feel like I’m becoming a runner.

My stride has naturally started getting longer.

My body is changing.

Running feels…different.

So instead of following the plan, my ego decided it wanted to see what this new engine could do.

I ran my first mile in 13 minutes and 29 seconds.

For me, that’s flying.

For about thirteen minutes, I felt unstoppable.

Then reality showed up.

The remaining sixteen minutes became an exercise in survival.

Every step reminded me why coaches tell you to trust the plan.

I paid for that first mile.

But I’m glad I made that mistake during training instead of on race day.

Sometimes experience is the best coach.

Running in the Rain

Thursday brought another first.

Rain.

Thunder.

Heat.

And somehow…

Peace.

There’s something difficult to explain about running through a storm.

Knowing everyone else is inside where it’s comfortable while you’re outside chasing a goal creates a different kind of energy.

It isn’t about proving anything to anyone else.

It’s about proving something to yourself.

Those are the runs you’ll remember.

Solving Problems on the Fly

Yesterday’s run reminded me that running is really just problem-solving in motion.

My heart rate was running much higher than normal.

I was frustrated.

The weather wasn’t terrible.

I hadn’t changed much.

Then I noticed my right calf.

It felt swollen and tight.

That’s when it clicked.

Over the last week, I’d changed my stride.

Longer strides meant different muscles were doing more work.

I shortened my stride back to what felt natural.

Almost immediately, things settled down.

Problem identified.

Adjustment made.

Keep moving.

That mindset feels familiar.

In operations, things rarely go according to plan.

You don’t panic.

You troubleshoot.

You adapt.

You solve the problem with the information you have.

Running isn’t much different.

Every mile is collecting data.

Every run teaches you something.

The goal isn’t perfection.

The goal is learning fast enough to keep moving forward.

One Battle I Still Haven’t Won

If there’s one area that continues to hold me back, it’s sleep.

I’m still averaging far less than I should.

I’ve tried melatonin.

I’ve tried CBD.

I’ve tried magnesium glycinate.

I’ve even tried prescription medication, but I’d rather not rely on it long-term.

Some things make me feel drowsy.

None of them have consistently helped me sleep.

I know recovery isn’t optional.

It’s part of training.

It’s probably the next habit I need to figure out.

Because fitness isn’t built only during the workout.

It’s built while your body recovers afterward.

If you’ve struggled with sleep and found something that genuinely helped—not just another supplement—I would love to hear it.

What worked for you?

Leave me a comment. I’m always looking to learn from people who’ve been where I am.

Looking Ahead

This week wasn’t about breaking records.

It was about making mistakes.

Learning from them.

Adjusting.

And showing up again anyway.

Burning knees.

An ego check.

A rainstorm.

A sore calf.

None of those things stopped the journey.

They simply became part of it.

I’m beginning to realize that becoming a runner isn’t about learning how to run.

It’s about learning how to adapt.

One mistake.

One adjustment.

One mile at a time.

Slow.

Steady.

Deliberate.

Forward under load.

Choosing Forward

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There are weeks when the miles matter.

There are weeks when the scale matters.

And then there are weeks where simply refusing to quit is the biggest victory of all.

This week was one of those weeks.

The Reality Behind the Progress

My current weight is 295 pounds.

When I started documenting this journey back in June, I weighed 310 pounds. Seeing 295 isn’t the finish line, but it reminds me that consistency adds up, even when life feels like it’s pulling you in every direction.

Running continued this week, although not as much as I had planned.

This week’s numbers:

  • Weight: 295 lbs
  • Runs: 3
  • Total distance: 9 miles
  • Longest run: 4.2 miles in 1:16:40
  • Average pace: 19:05 per mile
  • Average heart rate: 139 bpm
  • Total steps: 53,030
  • Total walking/running distance: 24 miles
  • Average daily steps: 8,698
  • Strength training: Upper body session
  • Average sleep: 5 hours, 32 minutes

One run stands out more than the others.

The temperature was in the 90s with a heat index around 110 degrees. Every logical excuse said to skip it.

I ran anyway.

Not because it was enjoyable.

Because becoming the person I want to be means learning to keep promises to myself, even when the conditions aren’t ideal.

A Wake-Up Call

This week also brought something I had been dreading.

I had an EGD, and if I’m being honest, I was scared.

I’ve never been put under anesthesia as an adult, and sitting there waiting forced me to think about how years of drinking and eating poorly have caught up with me.

Thankfully, the news was better than I feared.

There was no cancer and nothing immediately serious. The doctor found inflammation and red spots in the lining of my stomach, and I’ll learn more at my follow-up appointment.

A previous ultrasound also revealed that I have fatty liver disease. My liver is enlarged, and it’s another reminder that my health isn’t something I can continue putting off.

Exercise, better nutrition, and Omega-3 supplements are part of the treatment now.

There isn’t a shortcut out of this.

Only better decisions made consistently.

Running Gave Me Another Option

I’ll admit something that’s uncomfortable to say out loud.

With everything happening in my personal life, my health, and the uncertainty at work, I’ve wanted to drink.

The old version of me would have.

That was how I handled pain.

I would numb it.

I would run away from it.

This time has been different.

I don’t know if it’s because I found running.

Maybe it’s because I’m 33 years old.

Maybe it’s because I have children who are watching me more closely than I realize.

Maybe it’s all of those things together.

Whatever the reason, when life has pushed me toward self-destruction, I’ve chosen to lace up my shoes instead.

Running hasn’t solved my problems.

It has simply given me a healthier direction to carry them.

And for right now, that’s enough.

My greatest accomplishment this week wasn’t another mile.

It wasn’t a faster pace.

It wasn’t a lower number on the scale.

It was staying sober.

Learning to Take Care of Myself

One lesson surprised me this week.

I realized I need time for myself.

For years, I’ve tried to be present for everyone else.

My wife.

My kids.

My job.

The people who depend on me.

Recently, I decided not to attend one of my kids’ basketball weekends.

That wasn’t because I don’t love them or don’t care.

Anyone who knows me knows I’ve spent years coaching, supporting, and investing in them. Basketball has been a huge part of my life since I was young, and I still believe in what they’re capable of becoming.

But I also realized something.

You can’t keep pouring from an empty cup.

For thirteen years, I’ve made sure everyone else’s needs came first.

This Sunday, I stayed home.

I sat in the quiet.

I listened to music.

I wrote.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was taking care of myself instead of simply surviving another week.

That doesn’t make me a bad father.

It makes me a healthier one.

Looking Ahead

There are still storms I’m walking through.

Some are health-related.

Some are personal.

Some are happening at work as our organization continues to change.

I’m not ready to share every detail yet.

Maybe someday I will.

For now, I’m choosing to keep moving.

The goal for the next seven days isn’t perfection.

It’s simply to be better than I was this week.

One better decision.

One more run.

One more healthy meal.

One more night without alcohol.

I’m learning that resilience isn’t surviving until the storm passes.

Sometimes resilience is learning how to live while the storm is still here.

Slow. Steady. Deliberate.

Forward under load.

Resilience Is Built in the Difficult Weeks

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This past week was a reminder that progress is not always measured by perfect days.

Sometimes progress is measured by continuing to show up when life feels heavy.

There have been some challenges behind the scenes that have made this season difficult. I’m not going to get into every detail, but I will say that life has been testing my patience, my discipline, and my ability to stay grounded.

What I’ve learned through this process is that rebuilding isn’t just about physical transformation. It’s about learning who you are when things are not going according to plan.

And this week, I learned something important:

I am more resilient than I realized.

The Physical Progress

My current weight is 294 lbs.

While I know I still have a long way to go, I can truly feel the progress I’ve made. The weight I’ve lost has made running feel completely different. My body feels stronger, my endurance is improving, and I’m starting to see what consistency can create.

This week I completed:

  • 5 runs
  • 13 total miles

The biggest accomplishment came when I ran for one full hour straight, completing 3.4 miles.

That moment meant a lot. Not because of the distance, but because I know how much work went into getting there. Running for an hour was something that once felt out of reach, and now it is something I have accomplished.

I also completed another longer run where I ran for 50 minutes and 3 miles.

The following day, I attempted another long run, but my body had a different plan. The soreness from the hour-long run caught up with me, and I completed 35 minutes instead.

Funny enough, my Garmin watch even told me I needed recovery after my hour-long run. It was a good reminder that listening to my body is also part of becoming stronger.

Recovery is not weakness. Recovery is part of the process.

Movement Outside of Running

The running was only one part of my activity this week.

My total movement was:

  • 63,733 steps
  • 30 total miles
  • 10,572 average steps per day

Every step represents the commitment I’m making to become healthier and build a better version of myself.

Nutrition and Sleep

This was not my strongest week nutritionally.

I’ve continued trying to make healthier choices, but the stress and challenges of life affected my consistency. My nutrition wasn’t where I wanted it to be, and that is something I want to improve moving forward.

Sleep has also been a challenge.

I averaged around 5 hours of sleep, which is not where I want to be. I know rest plays a huge role in recovery, energy, and overall health.

This is another area where I need to continue improving.

The important thing is that I recognize where I need to make changes.

Strength Training Update

The gym was another area where I missed the mark.

I did not complete any strength training sessions this week.

The reason came down to excuses. Going to bed late affected my mornings, and I wasn’t waking up when I needed to.

Instead of continuing that pattern, I found a solution.

My workplace has a gym available, including a stair stepper, and I’m going to start using it after work. The goal is to remove the obstacles that were preventing me from getting it done.

The rebuild is about adapting.

If one approach isn’t working, find another way.

What I Learned This Week

The biggest lesson from this week is that I am stronger than I give myself credit for.

I have responsibilities as a father, a partner, and someone trying to improve his health. Some days are harder than others, but I continue to show up.

When I look back at everything I’ve overcome in my life, I realize I’ve handled difficult moments before.

This is another chapter.

Not an easy chapter, but one that is shaping me.

The Next 7 Days

The goal for the next week is simple:

Stay grounded.

Stay patient.

Continue moving forward.

I know the road I’m on will have ups and downs. The goal is not to have a perfect week. The goal is to keep building, keep learning, and keep becoming the person I know I can be.

Slow. Steady. Deliberate.