10/29/2026
I was running Spartan races while my life was quietly falling apart.
In 2014, my dad told me he had cancer. The fire in his eyes was gone. I'd watched him give up years before, and when the diagnosis came, he didn't fight. He was gone in two and a half months.
After that, I went numb. My practice took a big hit. I stopped telling my wife what was really going on. I was hard on my kids. And I ran Spartan races, several a year, because at the finish line my body felt certain, even when nothing else did.
From the outside, I looked healthy. Supplements. Training. Doing all the right things.
On the inside, I was hiding, and waiting for someone to come save me. Just like my dad had.
It took me years to see it. And longer to do something about it.
What I've learned is that men care about their health. A lot. What scares us is being seen without having it all figured out. So we chase the next race, the next protocol, the next fix.
I still take the body seriously. That's my training. But I've learned that presence creates the state where healing can happen.
If you're the guy who looks fine and isn't, I see you. I was you.
So here's the question I wish someone had asked me at the end of one of those races: What are you chasing?
Tag someone you know who needs to hear this.