An ache I dislike encountering, I am standing – but not crying!

October 18, 2022, while seriously considering stepping away from my Ironman California journey, a bit of serendipity changed my course. I decided instead to honor Steve’s memory through the race. That decision led to a powerful moment during the 2.4-mile swim in the American River. As I moved through the water, I felt his presence—his voice, his stories about triathlons, his frustrations, and his own struggles with swimming echoed in my mind.

Years ago, my dad captured a few photos of Big Steve at Folsom Lake. He had completed the swim but crashed on the bike, never quite able to finish a full triathlon. What stands out most in my memory is how, for once, he seemed to fit in. Among the other athletes, he didn’t stand out as a giant—he just belonged. I imagine that, in that moment, he felt at home. And then, he crashed.

There were things Steve did that I couldn’t and I still can’t. And in some ways, I think he lived out the things he couldn’t do—like completing a triathlon—through me and through others. Despite his struggles and his internal demons, he had a well of empathy as vast as his physical presence. That empathy gave him a kind of courage—one that allowed him to act when others might have been too afraid or frozen.

I know he wasn’t perfect. But he had the rare ability to truly care. And that mattered.

Today – systems that prey on value capture and gamification are using simplified metrics (like likes, scores, or follower counts – algorithms) and they have pervasively disrupted autonomy, free will and individual agency – too many values have been outsourced to external systems. 

Winter is coming.

It is my hope that we can individually and collectively lean into kindness and validation first, letting and allowing for cruelty to be delivered thru natural and not human driven consequence or preference (aka ego)!

For now, that ache persists, and like Viktor Frankl I labor — “It is a peculiarity of man that he can only live by looking to the future.” He warned (Viktor F) that “the sudden loss of hope and courage can have a deadly effect” and that “the prisoner who had lost faith in the future—his future—was doomed.”

So I narrow my focus to my nuclear family—the ones who anchor me. I understand what hope feels like—and I hold onto those fleeting moments, like when I swam in the American River– Big Steve –  Indeed I miss how and when, like Chester B from Linkin’ Park once sang “We saw brilliance when the world was asleep”.

https://happyinthehills.com/zentriathlete/2025/01/28/zentriathlete-blog/checkins/2025-check-ins/introspective-reflections-of-mine/ – resharing as I feel this aligns with today’s aches!