Standing on the beach in Mooloolaba, Australia, at 6 AM, I watched the sunrise paint the ocean in golden hues. I felt the familiar mix of excitement and nerves that comes with setting ambitious goals. I had set high expectations for this race: to finish in under 6 hours (a personal best), complete the swim in 34 minutes, average 180 watts on the bike for a sub-3-hour split, and run the half-marathon in 2 hours and 10 minutes or less. These weren’t just numbers on paper; they represented months of training, sacrifice, and the relentless pursuit of improvement.

What unfolded over the next 6+ hours was a masterclass in the gap between intention and execution, reminding me that sometimes our most significant growth comes not from achieving our goals, but from how we respond when they slip away.

The Weight of Unreasonable Goals

I’ve been juggling extensive travel since spring, which has affected my training consistency. Yet, I still set ambitious goals. Why? Because I train alongside athletes who are stronger and more experienced than I am. It’s like a basketball player moving from high school to college; being the least skilled in an elite group can be both inspiring and overwhelming.

This environment pushes me to demand more from myself, but it also gives rise to those insidious thoughts: Am I fast enough? Do I truly belong here? The downside of training alongside top athletes is the constant comparison and the feeling that I’m always chasing a standard that feels just out of reach.

So, I set unreasonable goals. After all, why aim for what’s reasonable when I can strive for the extraordinary? The challenge, for me, arises when those public commitments turn into anchors of expectation—both from others and from myself.

The Swim: Finding Peace in Chaos

Goal: 34 minutes | Result: 39 minutes

Ocean swims are my favorite. As we lined up in groups according to our projected finish times, I positioned myself at the front of the 34-37 minute group, confident in my preparation. The water was a refreshing 66°F—relatively calm and, from my perspective, perfect for a vigorous swim.

Before the start, we participated in a traditional slow clap to ACDC’s “thunderstruck”—something I had seen in countless Ironman videos but never experienced in person. My expectations were sky-high, but the reality felt flat. Sometimes, the anticipation of a moment outweighs its actual impact.

Once in the water, everything changed. The anxiety vanished, replaced by the meditative rhythm of my strokes and breaths. I maintained a mix of zones 2 and 3 efforts, focusing on a smooth two-beat kick and a complete pull. For this race, I deliberately chose Magic5 goggles over my usual Form goggles, which display pace, because I wanted to swim by feel rather than by numbers.

This decision turned out to be wise. In the water, I experienced that rare state of flow where time disappears and only the present moment matters. This sensation was similar to what I occasionally feel during yoga: complete presence, the sound of my breath, and a deep connection to and awareness of my body.

At some point, I realized I hadn’t paid attention to the buoy count, so I had no idea where I was relative to the finish. With no real sense of time, I focused on the water moving across my face with each breath, knowing that at some point I’d see the final turn buoy. When I finally spotted the beach, I was ready to finish. After I got out of the water, I made my first error: I forgot that my Blue70 wetsuit unzips from the bottom up, not the top down, and couldn’t get it open. After confusing several helpful spectators, someone finally figured out the “backwards” zipper, got it open, and I then ran to transition.

Transition 1: A Small Victory

Goal: 6:45 | Result: 6:32

My coach and wife had been harassing me about having historically slow transition times (12-20 minutes in T1). So, I relented and committed to a 6-minute target. To achieve this, I focused on proper gear setup and smooth execution, and finally, I succeeded exactly as planned. Now that I see what I can do, I’m sure I can complete it several minutes faster if I actually practice.

The Bike: Power, Beauty, and Mental Lapses

Goal: Sub-3 hours | Result: 3:15:41

The Sunshine Coast course is absolutely breathtaking, which can be a bit distracting during the race! This time, I focused on pushing hard right from the start. My goal was to hit an aggressive target -180-200 watts – something I’ve done before, but recent training had left me unsure if I could achieve it again.
As I left transition, I felt energized and prepared. The smooth asphalt on the motorway made for a fantastic ride, and I tackled those elevation changes with confidence. For the first two hours, I held steady at around 170 watts, feeling powerful and in command of my race.


Something changed during the ride. Whether it was the headwinds on the return leg or a mental lapse, my power dropped to an average of 155 watts for the final hour. My final normalized power was 163 watts, which fell well short of my ambitious target.

When I realized at the two-hour mark that finishing in under 3 hours was not going to happen without some heroics, I probably started to ease up instead of pushing harder. It’s a mental trap I’ve encountered before. Usually, when one goal becomes unattainable, I tend to unconsciously relax rather than salvage what I can from the situation.

Transition 2: The Bladder Dilemma

Goal: 3 minutes | Result: 6:36

Rolling into T2 with a desperate need to pee, I faced a choice: piss on myself as I moved through transition, or sacrifice transition time and use the port-o-john. The latter option won, adding over three minutes to my transition time. Sometimes you have to choose comfort over speed.

The Run: When Mental Strength Crumbles

Goal: Sub-2:10 | Result: 2:54:34

This is where my journey took an unexpected turn.
Just within a mile, a wave of nausea washed over me. I had planned to start steadily, gauge my body, and gradually increase the pace. Instead, I found it challenging to maintain a slow run and felt a sense of defeat by mile two. It was surprising how quickly the mental struggle set in.
By miles three or four, I found myself grappling with immense self-doubt. This experience has occurred more often than I’d like, making me question my capability and fortitude. I wondered if I might be better suited for swim-bike events, as I struggle with running due to the mental challenge. I experienced feelings of shame and embarrassment that were overwhelming, mainly because my body felt perfectly capable of running while my mind seemed to give up.
I slipped into a familiar cycle of run-walk-run-walk, each step echoing those discouraging thoughts: “You should be faster. Maybe walking is best. You’re falling behind… you’re too weak.”
In that moment of challenge, I recognized a pattern in my race experiences and decided to change my approach. Instead of giving in to despair, I started brainstorming solutions. Maybe focusing on shorter distances—sprints and Olympic events—where I can give my all for a shorter time might be the answer. This shift from feeling sorry for myself to actively seeking solutions helped to steady my thoughts.
I embraced the reality that this day would be tough and firmly committed to finishing with my head held high. Quitting simply wasn’t an option. I focused on finding solutions as I fought to continue the race

The Power of Partnership

As I made the turn at the end of the first lap, I was thrilled to see Christine from my Triathlon Nutrition Academy group catching up to me! We shared the experience of missing our individual goals, but instead of feeling discouraged, we decided to support one another through the remaining miles. It was amazing how having someone to hold me accountable completely transformed my race.

Suddenly, I felt an excellent connection with another athlete, and the motivation to keep up with her surged. Together, we walked the hills, flew down the descents, and jogged the flats, all while engaging in uplifting conversation that helped quiet my inner critic.

As we neared the final mile, she kindly asked if I wanted to finish together or solo for pictures. After a moment of thought, I realized that our journey meant more. “We did this together,” I told her. With renewed energy, we crossed the finish line side by side, pushing our pace to the best of the day!

The Complexity of Emotions


Finishing the race brought about a mix of emotions—gratitude for Christine’s companionship combined with a deep sense of disappointment and embarrassment. Experiencing these conflicting feelings at the same time felt awkward, yet it was an honest reflection of my experience.
I was proud of several successes during the race: the swim meditation, the efficient transitions, and the shift in my problem-solving mindset. However, the failure to meet my run goal weighed heavily on me, especially after publicly announcing my targets.
What I Learned
This race taught me several valuable lessons:
Goal Setting: Ambitious goals aren’t inherently wrong, but I need to balance stretch targets with realistic assessments of current fitness and circumstances.
Mental Training: Physical preparation is only half the equation. My mental game needs as much attention as my swimming technique or bike power.
Community: Training with stronger athletes elevates my performance, but I must be careful not to let comparison erode confidence.
Resilience: How I respond to setbacks matters more than avoiding them entirely.
Perspective: Every race teaches something valuable, even when (especially when) things don’t go according to plan.

Moving Forward

I’m excited to explore a strategic shift towards shorter distances, which will allow me to push myself harder in brief bursts while I work on rebuilding my confidence. It’s important to remember that progress isn’t always linear—sometimes a well-planned retreat can set us up for even greater success down the road!

What I genuinely love about triathlon is the way it teaches us to embrace both the fantastic moments and the challenging ones. This recent race reinforced that being open about our struggles can be just as meaningful as celebrating our triumphs.

The ocean awaits my next swim, and I’m eager to discover new possibilities on the bike that will help me strike that ideal power balance. As for running? I recognize that there’s more work to be done, and I’m ready for that journey.

I’ll continue to show up because that’s what we do as athletes. Together, we explore new options, find solutions, and persevere—one stroke, one pedal, one stride at a time. Let’s keep moving forward!

Finish Time: 7:03:13