The Greatest Endurance Event of My Life
After years of endurance racing, one experience has changed the way I think about what it really means to go the distance.
Today my wife and I are celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary.
As two people who have spent years chasing finish lines (Ironman races, half Ironmans, marathons, and countless early morning training sessions) you might think endurance is measured in miles, watts, or finish times.
I’ve come to believe it’s measured in something entirely different.
It’s measured in choosing each other every single day.
An Ironman teaches you that success isn’t about having the perfect race. It’s about responding when things don’t go according to plan. Every athlete eventually faces a flat tire, a missed nutrition plan, brutal weather, or a moment when quitting seems like the easier option.
Marriage is remarkably similar.
Over the past twenty years, my wife and I have celebrated incredible victories together. We’ve raised two amazing daughters. We’ve built careers. We’ve experienced unforgettable adventures. We’ve laughed more than I ever imagined we would.
We’ve also navigated uncertainty.
There have been seasons when work was exhilarating and seasons when it was exhausting. Seasons when one of us carried more of the load so the other could keep moving forward. Seasons when the future wasn’t as clear as we wanted it to be.
Watching my wife lead through some incredibly difficult professional challenges over the past few years has reminded me what endurance really looks like. It isn’t loud. It isn’t glamorous. It doesn’t make headlines.
It looks like showing up. Again. And again... And again.
As endurance athletes, we often celebrate grit. But I’ve learned that grit without love can become stubbornness. Discipline without grace becomes exhausting.
A strong marriage usually isn’t built in the big moments. It’s built in all the regular ones. Saying, I’ve got you. We’ll figure it out. I’m not going anywhere. It’s a lot like training for an Ironman. One good run doesn’t get you ready, and one good conversation doesn’t make a marriage strong.
You just keep showing up. One of the lessons I often share on the Chief Endurance Officer podcast is that the best leaders think long term. They don’t optimize for today at the expense of tomorrow.
The same is true at home.
Our culture celebrates intensity, endurance celebrates consistency.
Our culture celebrates achievement, endurance celebrates commitment.
Our culture celebrates the highlight reel, endurance is built in the quiet moments when no one is watching.
Twenty years later, I’m convinced the endurance mindset isn’t really about sport. It’s about becoming the kind of person someone can count on, the kind of teammate who doesn’t disappear when life gets hard, the kind of leader who stays steady during uncertainty, and the kind of spouse who continues choosing love after the excitement of the starting line has faded.
I’m grateful for every race I’ve finished, but I’m even more grateful for the woman who’s been beside me through the greatest endurance event of my life.
Here’s to twenty years.
And, hopefully, many more finish lines we’ll cross together.
What’s one lesson that endurance sports (or simply life) has taught you about building a lasting relationship?
