Reflection on HYROX and Physical Limits

This past weekend, I did HYROX, and I haven’t been on that kind of struggle bus in a while. I’ve climbed the equivalent of Everest three times—30+ hours each. Walked 52.4 miles on my 52nd birthday—22 hours. Done HYROX twice before and finished 10 minutes faster both times.

But Saturday? Saturday was an hour and 26 minutes of absolute hell.

I pulled my calf five days before, trying to keep up with Tim Kennedy and Lance Armstrong. I knew I was slightly injured but, like any Type A man on a mission, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. Truth is, I need to get better at saying no. Great opportunities don’t mean I have to take them all. I push myself to the point of injury, over-train, overdo, over-travel, under-rest. And by definition, that makes me unfit—the opposite of my intention.

Even with HYROX, I didn’t want to let my partner Carlos down. I did three straight days of treatment—dry needling, muscle activation, massage. None of it cheap. Wrapped it up, got out there, and on the first lap, I knew—this wasn’t going to go well. I slowed down, steadied myself. Carlos was patient, and we finished.

What Got Me Through

Running through my mind: I’m doing this for Harper. His boss and friend Adisun just passed away at 29 after a brutal battle with cancer. If he could fight that hard without complaining, who am I to quit?

Also: People get to do hard things. I like doing hard things. But I need to get past this “something to prove” feeling. Stop caring about performance, embarrassment, comparison. Embrace the suck—but don’t be stupid. If I’m injured, be smart enough to stop before it turns into a major setback. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Nobody’s looking at me. Nobody cares about my time. They’re running their own race. Run mine.

I told Carlos what was going on. It’s OK not to be OK. It’s OK to be injured. It’s OK to be slower than last time. It’s OK. I had done all I could. Now, I just had to let go. Hold it lighter. Give what I had, and let that be enough—without comparison, judgment, or assumptions. Just me and the man in the arena.

The Bigger Picture

It’s easy to compare myself to where I was five years ago. Easy to compare to other guys. Easy to see my numbers go down and feel disappointed. But the only real competition? Can I actually be smarter?

So I’m breaking it down, going back to square one. For Q2, I’m investing in myself: new trainer, focus on movement, mobility, repair, recovery. A better plan for health, wellness, longevity—because my goal is simple: feel good. Wake up without pain.

You might not look at me and see a guy in pain. But, too many days, I wake up looking better than I feel. That’s not working. Too much “show,” not enough “go.” Time to fix that.

Owning the Hypocrisy

I talk about sustainability, longevity, wellness—then push myself past my limits. I know better, but don’t always act better. That has to change.

The leveling-up mindset is tricky. There’s always another level. You think reaching it will bring satisfaction, but instead, you fixate on what’s still ahead. The bar keeps rising. It can be a vicious cycle.

I need to give myself permission to be kinder to myself. To run my own race. To prioritize what actually matters over what looks important. To lead a life that’s authentically influential, not one built on optics.

I’m hard on myself—too hard. Working on that, too. I didn’t like that Kate and Harper saw me suffering out there, knowing I made a bad decision and refused to quit. That doesn’t sit well with me.

I know better. It’s time to start acting better, more consistently.

Operation Rebuild starts now.