I came. I saw. I TRIed (and in sandals too).

Haha! I did the deed! Part of me can’t believe it, and another part always knew I would.

What was it like?

Honestly, not as challenging as I expected—and I don’t say that from arrogance, but from preparation. My life had already become Ironman: the diet, the training, the mindset. I wasn’t aiming to “become” an Ironman on September 28, 2025. I believed I already was one, every single day leading up to that moment. So when race day came, I wasn’t being defined by it—I was simply proving what I already knew.

Of course, looking at the distance—140.6 miles—was daunting. But I thought of that old saying: “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” That’s how I raced—one mile at a time. And would you believe me if I said I enjoyed it? Not every second, maybe, but the race as a whole—I had fun. I felt a profound gratitude, too. Here I was, attempting something so big, while remembering there are people who wish they could walk or even move a toe. That perspective changed everything.

After finishing, I was on a high. But Ironman humbled me quickly. I remember seeing a guy wrapped in one of those space blankets and thinking, “What’s he doing? It’s hot out here!” (yes, I judged). Fast forward a few hours—there I was at home, shivering like it was 30 degrees. Turns out, your core temperature plummets after an Ironman once you stop generating heat. Blood gets redirected to protect your organs, sweat keeps cooling you, and suddenly—you’re freezing. I had no idea!

And that was just the start. The next two hours were brutal: my glutes felt like they were knotting themselves into a fist, my feet wanted to curl into a ball, and sleep? Forget it.

But you know what? Still worth it. Every second.

What did I learn?

I’ve always heard that old saying: “Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.” I never really understood it—until now.

I was shooting for the moon with this Ironman. My goal was to finish under 12 hours, and it was my very first attempt. Did I hit every goal? No. But even though I didn’t reach the moon, I definitely landed among the stars.

Here’s what I mean:

I completed an Ironman—a feat only about 0.005% of the human population has done (go figure, haha).
I met new people.
I pushed my body further than I thought possible.
I rode in a police car.
I got stuck in a haboob (which was wild).
I traveled to the beautiful Chattanooga, Tennessee.
And I raised money for an organization that means so much to me (check that out here).

None of that was planned. Yet it all became part of the journey.

So what did I learn? That aiming for something big is always worth it—not just because of the outcome, but because of the unforgettable path that unfolds along the way.

What’s next?

ironman 2025 Chattanooga biking and tongue out

Will I do this again? Absolutely not (hahaha). Even during the race, I kept thinking I must be crazy, and I promised myself more than once: never again.

I chose this challenge as a way of closing out my 20s (and no, I’m not 30 yet!). That goal still stands, and I’m glad I picked this adventure. It gave me an incredible journey, unforgettable experiences, and a deeper understanding of myself—what I’m capable of, and what I really want.

The greatest lesson I learned is this: no journey is worth it—or even possible—without people. We need each other.

So to my loved ones, to everyone who donated, shared my posts, wrote letters (love you Ben, Trisha, Lashay, Vicky, Laura), called, texted, prayed, cheered me on, or raced alongside me—thank you. A journey like this is meaningless without you. I may have swum, biked, and run the distance, but together we completed it.

Ironman by the numbers: