Finish-Line

after-the-finish-line-featured-1200x675

after-the-finish-line-1600x900

Finish-Line

After The Finish Line

.

The words I remember most after crossing the finish line weren’t, “Congratulations.”

Years ago, I signed up for the Santa Barbara Long Course Triathlon.

I had trained for the swim and spent far more time preparing for the run. The only time I got on a bike to train was the day before the race, when I rented a road bike.

The course demanded far more than I expected. Long climbs gave way to fast descents and technical turns. One climb was so steep I couldn’t ride it, so I got off my bike and walked.

I never questioned whether I would finish. I had already decided.

That decision powered me through the swim, onto the bike, over every climb, and into the run.

Hours later, sunburned, soaked in sweat, exhausted, and happier than I can describe, I ran across the finish line and straight into my partner’s arms.

He hugged me.

The first words out of his mouth were,

“I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

I pulled back and looked at him.

He wasn’t joking.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.

We had just completed the same triathlon, yet somehow we hadn’t experienced the same race at all.

For hours, the triathlon course beat me up. But I had already decided I was going to cross that finish line.

And standing there at the finish line, I realized he had been watching an entirely different story unfold.

The race hadn’t changed mine.

It exposed his.

The other day, I was walking on the beach when I passed athletes training for a local Triathlon. The finish line memory came back to me.

Every one of us is living inside a story about who we are.

Some of those stories come from our own direct experience.

Others are absorbed so gradually—from family, culture, teachers, partners, expectations—that after a while they stop sounding like someone else’s voice and start sounding like our own.

Years later, Kilimanjaro and Everest Base Camp revealed the same certainty that already existed in Santa Barbara.

The race was never the story—It was the evidence.

Every one of us is living inside a story about who we are.

Who wrote it?

And when did someone else’s certainty become louder than your own knowing?

Read The Next One: THE DANGEROUS CHIP ON MY SHOULDER  →

PLAY IN THE LIVING LAB →

 

ENJOY THE FULL LIBRARY:

 

The Dangerous Chip On My Shoulder

A Lot Of People Don’t Like Me

Why Do Smart People Stay Stuck?

I Threw Away Every Medal I Ever Earned

Instead Of A Promotion, I Got Fired

Why Aren’t You Awesomer?

Energy ROI

I Ran An Experiment With The Universe

People MisJudge High Performers

The Cost Of Other People’s Opinions Of You

If Nobody Was Watching

Open Tabs

Energy Subscriptions

Finish Line

Freedom From No Longer Needing An Apology

Scraps

I Quit

The Illusion Of Control

Barbie Doll Jacuzzi


Ad Image Higher Quality

 

Some books are discovered after they’re published.

This one can be experienced while it’s still unfolding.

What began with deep self-inquiry became the Courageous Heart Expedition—and now my first book. Stories, films, photographs, reflections and discoveries are coming together as the work continues to unfold. You’re invited to explore what I’m creating and find your way in.

Let’s Go!


My Latest…

The Living Lab

Life is a lab. It’s always open.

How much of your life did you actually choose?

Most of us inherit far more than we realize—beliefs, identities, fears, and subconscious programming that control how we see ourselves.

The Living Lab is an ongoing exploration of what we discover when we question what we’ve been taught, challenge the ego, examine our conditioning, and experiment with different ways of being.

Because once you see what you didn’t choose, you get to decide what comes next.

SUPPORT THE WORK

Independent work like this exists because people choose to help make it possible. You can help me keep creating it.

Contribute