“Oh my God. This is freedom.” I was on a surfboard in Kona.
I could fall. Get back on. Try again. I had nowhere else I needed to be, and I stayed out there for an hour and 45 minutes.
In a place where I had once wanted so badly to race, I was having the best time doing something completely different.
I had nothing to prove.
That might not sound like a big deal until I tell you this: I first wanted to race Kona in 1989.
I didn’t cross that finish line until 2017.
Twenty-eight years of wanting something. And now, in my life after Ironman, I was back on the island, surrounded by athletes, feeling absolutely zero desire to join them.
I didn’t miss racing. I embraced NOT racing.
I was there for Jeff, who was doing his 15th Ironman, and I’ve coached him through all 15. His wife, Tamra, and I have known each other since seventh grade. We had a race to cheer for, years of friendship to catch up on, and plenty of familiar faces to find.
And apparently, I had some waves to catch.
Twenty-eight years is a long time to hold a dream
Kona still gets me.
I remember hearing an announcer describe racing there as almost being married to the island. I’m paraphrasing, but that idea stayed with me.
Once you’ve raced there, you’re connected.
I get it.
When I first wanted to do that race in 1989, I had no idea it would take until 2017. But that finish line became part of my life long before I ever crossed it.
So coming back to Kona comes with some history.
I know what it feels like to want to be one of those athletes. I know what goes into getting there. And I know what it meant to finally stand on that starting line myself.
The island hasn’t lost its magic for me.
This trip, I just had the freedom to enjoy more of it.
This time, it was Jeff’s turn
Fifteen Ironmans together.
That’s a lot of training, a lot of conversations, a lot of race prep, and a whole lot of life happening along the way.
Jeff and I have spent years working together as coach and athlete. Being in Kona for his 15th meant something to both of us.
And then there’s Tamra.
Seventh grade through college. Still friends. Still catching up. Still finding ourselves at races together all these years later.
I’ve worked with her on nutrition, too, so there are plenty of connections woven into this friendship. We can talk about the race, then slide right into a conversation that has absolutely nothing to do with triathlon.
I loved being there with them.
Race morning brought all that familiar energy.
You could see it on the athletes’ faces. People were emotional, and understandably so. They were about to spend the better part of a day out there. All those months of preparation, and now it was time to actually do the thing.
I could feel the weight of it because I’ve been there.
But as I watched them get ready, I didn’t feel that pull to join them.
No “maybe one more.”
I was happy to cheer for Jeff and be part of his day. I didn’t need a race number to care deeply about what was happening.
And when he finished, we had a whole new reason to celebrate.
Life after Ironman looks like a surfboard
I swam. I walked everywhere. And I surfed. Oh, did I surf.
An hour and 45 minutes out on the water, with the possibility of falling very much included.
There’s something funny about coming back to the place where you fulfilled this enormous athletic dream and realizing how happy you are just trying to stay upright on a surfboard.
But that was exactly where I wanted to be.
I still love moving my body. I love feeling strong. I love being in the ocean, learning something new, and having a reason to paddle back out.
That part of me is very much alive.
My days just look different now. And being in Kona made me realize how much I like them.
I wasn’t looking at the athletes and wishing I had their schedule.
I had a surfboard. I was good.
Apparently, everyone was in Kona
Going to the Legacy banquet with Jeff turned into one of my favorite parts of the trip.
Mark Allen. Karen Smyers. Craig Alexander. Mirinda “Rinny” Carfrae.
Familiar faces, good conversations, and yes, photos.
Of course we took photos.
After so many years in this sport, getting to see people again is a big part of the fun. You don’t get that from scrolling. There’s something about being in the same room, having a real conversation, and grabbing a photo before everyone heads off in different directions again.
I also got to catch up with Dirk and the TrainingPeaks crew, which had me missing the days when coaches gathered in one room to swap ideas. I may have raised my hand to help bring that back. Stay tuned.
I came for Jeff. I left reconnected to a community that’s been part of my life for decades.
You’re allowed to love it differently now
I hear some version of this from women all the time:
I used to run marathons. I used to be the strong one. I don’t know who I am if I’m not doing that anymore.
I get it. I really do.
But here’s what Kona reminded me. The thing you loved doesn’t have to look the same to still count.
Strength at 55 might be lifting three days a week instead of training all day. It might be a beach walk, a barbell in your garage, or an hour and 45 minutes falling off a surfboard and laughing about it.
You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.
You just have to keep showing up for yourself, in whatever way fits this season.
I didn’t need to race to belong
That’s what stayed with me when I left.
I could go back to Kona, feel its magic, celebrate Jeff, reconnect with friends, and enjoy the ocean.
I could remember how badly I’d wanted that finish line and feel proud that I got there.
And I could leave without putting another Ironman on my calendar.
I don’t take that lightly. When something has been such a big part of your life, you don’t always know how it will feel to go back.
Now I know.
It felt good.
Especially out on that surfboard, where my biggest concern was whether I was going to stay on it.
I spent 28 years dreaming about racing on that island.
This time, I got to enjoy being there.
Have you ever gone back somewhere and realized you were happy experiencing it differently? Tell me in the comments.
And if you’re in that in-between season, where the old way of training doesn’t fit anymore and you’re not sure what does, that’s exactly what I help women figure out. I have two 1:1 spots open this month. Let’s talk.