The Art of Racing in the Moment Through Discomfort

Every endurance athlete faces the same question: How much discomfort am I willing to carry, and where is the line between pain I can manage and pain that will cause lasting harm?

The truth is, no one can make that decision for you—not your coach, not your competitors, not even your past self. Out on the course, it comes down to self-awareness, honesty, and the choices you make in the moment.

There are two clear guardrails:

1. Injury vs. Discomfort.

If the pain signals real injury—something that could sideline you for months—there is no race worth that cost. Stopping is not weakness; it’s wisdom.

2. Managing the Manageable.

If the pain is raw but not damaging, then the choice is yours. How uncomfortable are you willing to be, and for how long? Sometimes it means gritting your teeth, pushing through, and trusting you can recover afterwards.

I’ve been there myself. At the Chino Grinder, my QL completely locked up. The pain was overwhelming—tears-in-my-eyes, can-barely-breathe kind of pain. A rider alongside me asked if I wanted to stop. But I knew two things: it wasn’t going to get better, and it wasn’t going to get worse. I was leading the race, so I chose to keep going, finish what I started, and deal with the aftermath later. I won that race—and the pain passed.

That lesson has carried through countless Ironmans and endurance events: sometimes the choice is to endure, sometimes it’s to step back. The key is knowing the difference.

And through it all, the best approach is simple: stay present. Don’t get lost in fear of what might happen at mile 18 or in memories of past struggles. Keep asking yourself: How am I right now? If the answer is “I’m okay,” then keep moving. Break the race into small, manageable chunks—20-minute segments, a hill at a time, buoy to buoy in the swim.

Racing is less about predicting outcomes and more about stacking good decisions in the present moment. That’s where strength lives: in the choice to stop when it’s wise, or to push when it’s possible.

Maybe that’s the real victory—not the medal, not the clock, but the strength you discover when you decide who you are in the face of pain.

Because toughness isn’t about never hurting. It’s about choosing—choosing wisely, choosing bravely, and giving the best of yourself to the moment you’re in.