Medal Monday 🏅

This one matters (perhaps more than all the others).

Eighteen months ago, while lying in a hospital bed following Achilles surgery, I said this wouldn’t be the end for me.

Since that day and every day since, I worked to reach this moment.

What’s not seen is the countless hours of rehabilitation, setbacks (way more than I can count), tears, anger, frustration, and fear.

Despite these feelings, I held onto unwavering hope.

Each day presented a choice: move forward or quit.

Two steps forward and one step back was still a step forward.

Every progress was grounds for celebration: showering, sleeping without my brace, carrying my own food, and, most importantly, coffee without spilling it everywhere ☕.

From the grueling workdays on crutches to the baby giraffe legs 🦒 of my first steps, there was reason to celebrate.

Hours on the arm cycle turned into laps in the pool. From the pool to an indoor bicycle and finally riding outside. 

All these were major milestones, and I cherished with gratitude my increased ability to move.

Yoga and hours in the gym working on balance, mobility, and strength were game-changers.

I burst into tears (well, more than once) when Dr. Nickisch told me I could run again. I sat in his office and sobbed, not fully understanding the weight that running had held in my life.

On my first day of running, I managed one minute 

One minute turned to two. Two turned into a mile—a mile into a few more.

It’s about process

I created a formula and worked it and worked it. I ran four days 🏃, cycled three days 🚴, did two days of strength training 💪, and did yoga and mobility every day.

I set two goals for the LA marathon:
1️. To get to the start line (my A goal)
2️. To get to the finish (the cherry on top 🍒)

Lining up at the start, I had arrived at my first goal; anything next was all bonus.

The first 17 miles were perfect; then, the wheels fell off.

I won’t lie. I contemplated a DNF. The problem was, I didn’t really have a good reason. I was tired, moving slower but not that slow, and nothing hurt.

I had plenty of reasons to continue:

💙 My beautiful wife, Micaela Choo, who supported me in ways I didn’t know possible. Plus, she was waiting to run with me at mile 20; I had to get at least that far.

💙 My stepdaughter—what excuse could I offer? I certainly didn’t have a good one.

💙 To so many others who inspired me in ways I wish they knew:

* Karen Liu and her inspirational return to running

* Erin Tapahe and her unparalleled will to always find a way to finish

* My best friend Taha, who just shows up in all the best ways

Step by step, I inched toward the finish.

That’s the story.

To those who are struggling and wondering what if: Start.

It’s all possible with a dash of hope, trust and commitment in the process and an unrelenting belief in oneself.

Left foot, Right foot, Repeat.