Why is a good question.

On a whim, I can think of a lot of reasons.  But if I had to chose one that sticks out the most, because fuck everyone else.

I grew up the fat, angry (probably still angry according to my friends and family), bullied, minority kid.  Always picked last, never understood sports or playing on a team.  My personality always lends to it, I hate taking orders from people, “looking up” to a team captain, or following.  I prefer blazing my own path at my own pace, instead of someone telling me what, how, or when to jump.  Combine my lack of empathy for sports with poor coordination and uncanny ability to end up on the losing team, it all adds up to solid reinforcement model to stay away from team sports in the first place.

After losing all my weight by running, triathlon seemed right up my alley.  If I could go from a complete fat-ass and lose 100lbs, what’s next on life’s to-do list?

Triathlon.  Obviously.

It’s as lone-wolf or team-oriented as you want.  Only you suffer through the pain.   Only you can suffer through the long training runs, broken toe nails, and being cold, lonely, and hungry on your long training rides.  It’s you and the road baby, and there’s something intoxicating that you are beholden to no one but yourself for those long training hours.

It was another challenge, proving to myself with discipline, a plan, and facing my fears of the unknown, I can do whatever I put my mind to.  What a better way to say fuck you to all those people who chose me last, who told me I’m not good enough, who always told me no?  Let’s prove them wrong.  Especially the folks that told me to settle and be mediocre.

I’m looking at you, high school college counselor.

So a 1/2 Ironman it is.   And the 1/2 is the only way to go since it’s the logical step into the inevitable full Ironman race.

A few decent races of various distances, lots of good laughs and trials with friends that helped and supported me along the way, and a few patched inner tubes later, I arrived and conquered my first 70.3 distance race.  No podium finish, no finish-line kiss, no cameras flashing.  Just me, nauseated, and trying to eat a dried out barbecue chicken sandwich, finisher’s medal in hand.

But, I do owe a small thanks to the naysayers in my life.

With all the crap I was put through, it made me stronger.  It made me the strong-willed person I am today.  I use it as a constant motivation when I go through life, tackling new challenges and taking on new adventure.

Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself and do things for yourself.  Sometimes, it’s the only way to get shit done.  Life, as we’re all coming to find, is bittersweet, so enjoy the ride.