10/05/2025
Yes — I am flexing my legs. I caught that light just right, and dang, I like what I see. But that’s just the surface.
For weeks now, I’ve been grinding, training harder than ever. Every early morning run, every rep in the weight room, every breath in cardio — it’s all been part of fighting for my life. Because I was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, and that diagnosis has shaped me in more ways than most people can imagine.
There was a time when hospitalization wasn’t just an occasional thing — it was a recurring nightmare. I saw myself slipping. I felt my body betray me. I knew if I didn’t change my path, I might end up tethered to machines, waiting for a transplant, maybe not even making it that far. That thought terrified me. I didn’t want “sick me” to be my legacy.
So I fought. I made health my nonnegotiable. Every day I commit to my treatments. Every day I push for strength, integrity, discipline. I invest in mental health — the stress, the fear, the weight of chronic battle — it’s real. Some days the mind is heavier than the lungs. But that’s why I push mindset just as hard as I push miles and reps.
Here’s a detail I’m proud to share: I’ll be one of very few who have ran from Florida to New York — yes, covering over a thousand miles up the East Coast — to make a statement, to carry a message. (The straight-line or driving distance between Florida and New York is roughly 1,150 miles depending on route. I’ll be running around 1,300 miles.)
When I imagine my life a decade ago, I wonder: would I even be here? Would I be on oxygen? Waiting in hospital rooms more than living in the world? I almost accepted that as destiny. But now, doing this run, chasing this dream — it’s proof to myself and to anyone battling unseen wars: you can rewrite the ending.
This cause means everything. It’s not just about running — it’s about hope for every person facing chronic illness or fighting mental health battles. And yes, part of the goal is to raise $1 million (yes, million) for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation — to push research, to support families, to change lives.
So this Sunday, I sit with gratitude that I get to do this. That my lungs still carry me, that my heart still beats, that I have breath to run.
But gratitude isn’t passive. It’s a call to action.
If you read this — if you’ve ever felt small, broken, uncertain — I want you to hear me: your battle is valid. Your scars are strength. The days you don’t feel like rising — rise anyway. The days you doubt — push anyway. The dreams that seem wild — chase them anyway.
This isn’t just fitness or endurance. This is life. This is purpose. This is redemption. This is saying: I won’t just survive — I will thrive. Let’s go. 💥
