My day began at 4:30 a.m. as I headed out to lead the training squad for the Pacific Mini Games in a time-trial mini duathlon.
Someone asked me today, “Do you enjoy doing this work? Do you like doing all this?”
My immediate answer was YES, which surprised me. 😆
I had to stop and think about it. (Wait up, really?) But the answer was still yes.
I enjoy working with athletes, being their manager, and sort-of coach. It’s a bit like my old teaching job. I love seeing young people improve and learn a ton of useful things along the way—not just about triathlon, but about becoming better humans.
I also love seeing how much it takes to make that growth happen. It’s never just about the athlete. It takes parents, teachers, teammates, coaches, and many generous people outside the sport who give their time and support to help these kids succeed.
It’s About More Than Medals
I know we’re supposed to focus on producing triathletes who can go faster and win medals somewhere.
But just between you and me—I sort of don’t care about that.
What interests me more is seeing them take on a new challenge, set a goal, and then go after it. I love watching their absolute delight—and sometimes even surprise—when they achieve it.
I also find it inspiring to see how they face disappointment and loss, work through those experiences, and keep going.
Being a small part of that journey is incredibly rewarding. I get to counsel them, brainstorm solutions, yell a little when required 🤪, be stern when needed, and then celebrate with them when they overcome a challenge or accomplish something that once seemed impossible.
That is what makes this work so cool.
The Victories That Don’t Win Awards
The best moments are often the little victories that don’t get awards or public recognition—unless you’ve been paying attention from the beginning.
Today, while the duathlon was happening, another group was out on a ride.
There are a couple of girls who, when they first started, could barely balance on a bike. They would hang their heads and slouch their shoulders, shrinking into themselves the way teenagers sometimes do when they don’t want anyone to notice them.
It was as if they dreaded taking up space.
I remember that feeling well from my own teenage years—and, if I’m honest, sometimes even now as an adult.
One of those girls fell off her bike during an early training session. It was painful. She needed help standing and walking. There were tears.
That day, I worried she wouldn’t want to come back.
I worried her parents might say, “No more. It’s too dangerous!”
From Fear to Confidence
Today, those same young women rode 30 kilometers.
They rode strong, tall, and confident on their bikes.
They smiled, laughed, and proudly showed their #happy while cycling through Samoa and navigating Saturday morning traffic in Apia.
They rode in a peloton with precision and care.
They kept asking the group leader if they could ride through town again.
“Just one more time?”
“Can we all go again?”
Afterward, they talked about how much they enjoyed the ride.
“I was scared at the beginning, and then I kept going—and it was great!”
What brought about that change?
A lot of things.
They developed the necessary bike-handling skills. They spent hours practicing with volunteer instructors. They had support from parents and family members who willingly wake up at 4 a.m. to transport both athletes and bikes to training.
They received encouragement from coaches and teammates.
And they had bicycles to ride—bikes generously donated by people who believe in the transformative power of cycling.
The Right to Take Up Space
I like to believe these athletes carry that same confidence and self-belief with them beyond cycling and beyond triathlon.
From my own experiences in triathlons and cycling—even with my consistent last-place finishes—I’ve learned something important.
There is great strength in knowing you have the right to take up space.
The right to be seen.
The right to be heard.
There is strength in knowing you can do difficult things, even things that scare you at first.
You can practice.
You can keep going.
You can ask for help.
You can fall down and get back up again.
What Triathlon Teaches Me
I don’t love triathlon the way my husband loves his sport.
But I am deeply grateful for what triathlon teaches me.
And thanks to the athletes I am blessed to work with, I’m learning more every day.
