December is Your Launch Pad, Not Your Loophole
As we enter the last weeks of the year, I'm leaning forward, not back.
I don't want this year to end coasting into January with a list of "I'll start whens" and a mind full of good intentions that never left the start line. This season taught me something I couldn't have learned any other way: you're owed nothing, but you always get to choose.
My 2025 season opened at 70.3 St. George- not with a triumph, but with a crash that could have ended everything. Flying into the final corner at 30+ mph, racing with everything I had. Then in an instant, I was airborne over my handlebars, crashing into the barrier fence and landing hard on my back.
Three hours in the ER. X-rays, CT scans, stitches on my face, shoulder, hand, and leg. Walking out of that hospital, I had a choice: let this be the story of what stopped me, or let it be the beginning of something else entirely. It was my choice to attack that corner with everything I had and it was my choice how I responded to the consequences. That ownership became the foundation for everything that followed.
A 10th place finish at Boise taught me: Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds that you sow. Growth happens in the soil, not just at the finish line.
I learned about post-traumatic growth- not just surviving challenges but using them as tools for transformation. Every time you chase something hard enough to fail at it, you're becoming someone capable of catching it.
Later in the season came my first World Championship as a professional. I was humbled by the Queen K. Mile 111, feeling completely emptied. Bobby yelled at me while running on Palani: "It's your choice how your day ends." I chose to finish.
Five weeks later: Ironman Arizona. Beat in the final 400 meters. Sixth place. No Kona slot- it felt like I was stabbed in the chest. I laid there on the ground with gratitude and anger tangled together. My best wasn't enough that day, but the becoming was totally guaranteed.
We learn so much throughout the year and then comes December. For some reason we tend to allow ourselves to just coast- like a loophole. We give ourselves permission to check out. Most people are already mentally gone. They've written off the year. Done. They're in maintenance mode, telling themselves they'll get serious next year. But after a season that started with a crash and taught me about choice at every turn, I refuse to end it that way.
Without vision, the people perish. You must have some idea of where you want to head. In these last few weeks of the year, it's not about having every detail mapped out. It's about refusing to drift. It's about taking everything this season taught me- the crashes, the heartbreaks, the moments on the ground, the choices to keep going and using it all as fuel. Do we seriously have to wait until January 1st? Is there fairy dust that sprinkles over you on that day and magically kicks your ass into gear? NO!
Why not use this time as your launch pad, not your loophole?
I'm ramping up right now. I've had 4 weeks off training- if this season taught me anything, it's that you don't just stop. You get up and go no matter what. A launch pad doesn't wait for perfect conditions. It builds pressure, fuel, JOY, energy. It creates the conditions for liftoff. Not because it's easy, but because it's a gift and you believe in something bigger than this moment. #LFG
While everyone else is checking out, let's build momentum. Not from a place of lack, but from a place of remembering what you're capable of when you dare to want more- attacking the corner at 30 mph, sprinting the end of an Ironman, feeling emptied but finishing anyway!
We can arrive at January 1st from a dead stop, full of good intentions and zero momentum OR we can arrive already moving- warmed up, sweating, excited, dialed, ten steps ahead of the version of yourself that was going to "start next year."
December isn't my loophole. It's an opportunity to launch into the next season… I choose to see it that way and i'll be bringing my own fairy dust!