I went into this race with everything new — nutrition, training, sponsors, even a new body, ten pounds heavier by design. And somehow, all that newness held.

The lessons were brutal but simple: embrace the suck or be punished by it. Strength isn’t revealed when everything goes right — it’s forged when everything falls apart. Pain caves are endless; the only limit is the one you decide. And community matters. My word for the race was community, and I left Japan with friendships I’ll carry for life.

Race 5 felt like a peak — the highest, hardest point of the mountain. Now I feel myself on the descent, for the first time able to look past the goal.

So, Ironman Japan showed me exactly who I’ve become — the kind of person who can suffer deeply and still give, who can find strength not just for myself but for others. The Selfless Test proved there is nothing I can’t endure, because endurance itself means carrying more than your own weight.

And here’s the truth: I’ve become dangerous— not because I can’t fail, but because I no longer race for me alone. Dangerous because I know the fight isn’t just mine, and when you run for something bigger than yourself, there is no finish line strong enough to stop you. That’s the kind of dangerous that builds, that lifts, that makes me unstoppable in the best way.

The Selfless Test isn’t just an Ironman lesson — it’s a life lesson. When you hit your wall, when the wind won’t let up and the road feels endless, remember: it’s not about how much you can take, but how much you can give in the midst of it. Give energy, give presence, give hope. Because sometimes the strongest version of you is born the moment you stop racing for yourself alone.