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- The Superset Vol 063
The Superset Vol 063
“You can’t expect to succeed if you only put in the work on the days you feel like it” - Cam Hanes

Volume 063
“You can’t expect to succeed if you only put in the work on the days you feel like it” - Cam Hanes
Shattering the Glass Ceiling
Last year, someone I deeply respect in the endurance world gave me a piece of advice I have since tried to lean into: “After every race, stop. Reflect. Write down what you learned. Not just about your body or performance—but about yourself.”
I needed that reminder this weekend after Hyrox Miami.
I fall into the “what’s next” trap often. My brain is already spinning with planning for my next goal as I write this. And I know I’m not alone. We live in a world obsessed with forward motion. Hit the target, move on. Finish the race, find another. Close the deal, chase the next.
It doesn’t have to be sport—it’s life. We’re so addicted to momentum that we skip the meaning.
So for today’s Superset, I’m forcing the pause. I'm reflecting on the last 12 weeks. On the training. The nerves. The doubts. And the latest version of myself I became somewhere in the middle of it all.

A few weeks ago, I posted a quote that looped through my head on race day. It was from Nick Bare’s podcast with Max Joliffe, winner of the Moab 240:
“People in life have this glass ceiling for what they think they can achieve. Once you break it, it doesn’t rise—it disappears. And you realize… holy shit, nothing is impossible.”
I realized Saturday that I have felt that first hand.
Because five years ago, I couldn’t run a mile without walking. I was 251 pounds. Undisciplined on the road. No structure. No purpose. Sure, I went to the gym 3–5 days a week. But I had no compass. Just motion without direction.
Then one photo for some reason I can’t explain—taken after a Luke Combs concert in Missouri—changed everything. This picture on Facebook wasn’t flattering. But it was honest. And I knew right then: I had to stop pretending I was disciplined and actually become it. I hated what I saw in that picture, but I knew that hate was really rooted in the reality that I knew I had put myself in that situation in the first place.
I went all in. Hired a coach. Made a meal plan. Trained six days a week. Then COVID hit, and I pivoted to doing “Insanity” workouts on my apartment balcony. It was awkward. It was hard. It was humbling.
But it worked. Momentum created.
Fast forward a year: I’d dropped nearly 70 pounds and decided to try a marathon—just to finish. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a box to check.
But something happened on the drive home that day.
I couldn’t stop thinking: “If I could do that… what else is possible?”
That was the day the ceiling vanished.
Since then, it’s been one challenge after another:
Half marathon: Can I go faster? Yes. Ironman 70.3: Can I translate running into something bigger? Yes. 50-mile ultra: Can my mind and body go further? Yes. And this year: Hyrox. A brutal test of strength, speed, and stamina. A completely foreign world to me. Which is exactly why I had to enter it.

The night before Hyrox Miami, I laid in bed feeling the same jitters I used to get before golf tournaments—only stronger. The “what ifs” were loud. What if I’m not ready? What if I fall short? What if I bomb out like my last sub 3 hour marathon attempt?
But this time something changed.
Instead of trying to silence those thoughts, I embraced them. For the first time, I felt at peace with the nerves. They meant something. They meant I cared. That I wasn’t playing it safe. That I had skin in the game.
And that’s the real reason we sign up for these things.
Not for the medals. Not for the Instagram story. But to remember what it feels like to be fully alive. To feel those nerves. To have to wrestle with developing confidence in something you have yet to achieve.
Because life—especially as an adult—starts to dull around the edges. You get good at your job. You find your routines. You stay in your little five-foot box of comfort. It’s predictable. It’s safe. It’s... boring.
But when you sign up for something that scares you, something you’re not sure you can do—it wakes you up.
My takeaway from this prep is simple: Race day isn’t the point. It’s a celebration. A performance. A reflection of the work. The real win is in the process.
In showing up on days you didn’t feel like it. In mastering the micro-decisions. In proving to yourself, one rep at a time, that you’re becoming someone new. That’s the part most people miss, including myself. We obsess over the finish line and forget that no one else really cares about your time. Whether I ran a 1:30 or a 1:13, the applause would sound the same.
The point is to show up and chase something that scares you. To take a massive, overwhelming goal—and break it down into something so small and repeatable that you can't help but grow.
If you feel like your in groundhogs day, stuck on the mundane treadmill of life, disappointed with how you feel or look…Maybe this newsletter is your sign to get started.
You don’t need to know how it ends. You just need to begin.

As I reflect back on this week, this prep, and the beginning of this year, I want to remember these things, and hope they someday resonate with you too:
You don’t rise to the level of your goals—you fall to the level of your systems.
Everyone wants the finish line. Few commit to the structure it takes to get there. What changed my life wasn’t motivation—it was building a system I couldn’t talk myself out of. This prep was a reinforcement of that. I didn’t know how I could or would perform on race day, but I was confident that if I found a good plan and executed on it, that I would be ready. All that was left was to not miss a day
Your identity is negotiable.
Five years ago, I wasn’t a runner. I wasn’t an endurance athlete. Hell, I was barely hanging on to the version of someone who talked like they prioritized fitness at all. But identity isn’t a fixed label—it’s a decision. A daily vote. And every training session, every meal, every hard choice... was a ballot cast for the future version of me.
Suffering is the signal that you're on the right path.
If it’s hard, you’re not doing it wrong—you’re doing it right. The hard is where the change happens. Most people confuse discomfort with failure. But discomfort is just growth in real time. So many times during this prep I got my ass kicked by a workout, but I kept leaning on the understanding that if I kept showing up, I would get better at them. Slowly but surely I did
Public wins are built on private work.
Race day lasts an hour. Training lasted 12 weeks. Most of it alone. No one claps for the reps in silence. But they compound. They matter. Whatever goal you’re chasing—understand that the loudest applause should come from within.
The “next thing” can wait.
I’ll be honest—I’m already thinking about my next goal. That’s just how I’m wired. But part of maturing as an athlete, part of presence, is learning to sit with a win before you sprint toward the next mountain. You don’t grow just from achieving the goal. You grow when you understand what the goal taught you. I already have August 10th on my calendar for my next progression, but I will consciously celebrate this one this week.
Clarity is earned in motion.
You can’t think your way into purpose—you have to move your way into it. Action creates clarity. When you start training, showing up, and doing hard things, you realize what matters and what doesn’t. If you're stuck, stop overthinking. Start moving. Everything gets better when you do. You develop an identity, you develop a foundation, and you slowly separate from whatever crowd it is you need to separate from. It all starts with that initial first step, and continuing to keep stacking days after that.
You will never regret betting on discipline.
The days you didn’t feel like showing up but did anyway? They’re the ones that change you the most. Motivation is fleeting. Discipline is proof you’re serious. When everything is on the line, it's your habits—not your hype—that show up for you. 12 weeks is a long time to train for - a quarter of a year. Equally as many days as not, you wake up sore, questioning whether to go get the day’s lift done or not. As you continue to show up though, it doesn’t get harder, it gets easier. It’s not a decision you have to make anymore - you made that decision for yourself when you signed up in the first place.
You don’t need permission to reinvent yourself.
At any point, you can raise your hand and decide you’re done living life on autopilot. Your past doesn’t get to vote on your future unless you let it. No matter where you’re starting from, your story can still become one of power, resilience, and massive change.
This Hyrox was a beautiful prep. It forced me to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. To become a student yet again, executing movements and paces that I had never subjected my body to. There is so much to be proud of and thankful for, but I can’t stop coming back to that time that I just decided enough was enough and got started.
Time passes by so incredibly fast. I swear it was just yesterday that I was submitting my paperwork for this Miami Hyrox, and here we are today, 13 weeks later, race in the bag. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but a good or bad three months has an incredible compounding effect. You have likely felt it for yourself already this year, for the positive or the negative. Where has the year gone already? How have I already abandoned those resolutions I had for myself on January 1, which feels like it was just last week?
I was never built to be an athlete, especially not an endurance one. Yet as I toed the line to race on Saturday, looking out at a field of former division 1 athletes, Crossfit veterans, sub-10% body-fatters, I didn’t feel intimidated, I was confident. I had put in the work, and I believed in myself.
That’s the takeaway. Five years ago, I didn’t believe in anything physically. I had no compass. I snoozed the alarm more often that I did not. I rarely went against the grain to just drive by that fast food restaurant. I always said yes to any opportunity to have a drink. I wasn’t sure if I could run 2 miles straight, let alone 26.2, or 50, or eight 1,000m reps sandwiched between eight heart-rate bursting fitness stations.
So if you are having any similar feelings right now - if you tell yourself you’re not a runner - or that you’ll never be ripped - or if you don’t love the way your reflection looks back at you in the mirror - decide today that enough time has passed, and get started. And if you need a helping hand, I am a message away.
Hyrox Miami 2025 - Done. Next - ________?