My Story

At 8 years old, I was standing at the finish line of one of the hardest one-day cycling events in the United States: Lotoja. It covered over 200 miles and 8,000 feet of climbing, all in one day. As I watched my mentor cross the finish line, I was so proud to call him my dad. I, almost unexpectedly, had the thought cross my mind: “I wonder how old you have to be to do this race?” We asked around and got the loose answer of 13. I’m sure they struggled to answer adequately because so seldom did someone attempt to race this young. That day, I set a goal in my head to be the youngest person to ever do Lotoja all the way through. In my mind, it was so attainable, and seemed so fun, but I had no idea what was ahead.

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I soon told my parents and about my goal and they signed me up for a 26 mile ride the next year. They gradually encouraged me to push myself farther and farther. At age 9, it was 26 miles. At age 10, it was 50, then 100. I was doing all of this for the culminating race, but each new feat was a thrill!

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My internal competitive feelings of constantly wanting to push myself returned the year before I was to attempt Lotoja. My dad had just finished the race yet another year, and we were sitting at the award ceremony. We were enjoying his accomplishments, when we learned of yet another challenge called the Utah Triple Crank. This consisted of the 3 hardest one-day cycling races in Utah all in the same year.

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1) The Rockwell Relay—A relay across the Southern Utah desert, in early summer of roughly 500 miles, and 4 people to complete it.

2) The Ultimate Challenge—The same course as the 6th leg of the Tour of Utah, climbing over 10,000 feet of elevation in under 110 miles . . . Brutal.

3) Lotoja—“The final race” consisted of 200 miles, 3 states, and 8,000 feet of elevation in one day.

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In the course of my 13th and 14th year, I completed the Utah Triple Crank and became the youngest person to do it. I remember the feeling as we sprinted across the finish line. It was an addictive rush of adrenaline and self-achievement that I had never experienced up until that point. In retrospect, I wasn’t abnormally tough. I cried . . . I hurt . . . some days I just wanted to mess around. However, when push came to shove, I had a vision for who I wanted to be and what I wanted to accomplish—oftentimes this was contagious from my dad’s encouragement as we rode alongside each other! This experience would aid me later, while on my mission.

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I first served in southern Brazil. Growing up, I rarely had soda because my mom loved healthy foods, and apparently soda wasn’t one of those. In Brazil, however, Coke and Guaraná (a delicious Brazilian soda) were common drinks. I consistently felt gross and bloated after drinking it, and stuffing myself to the brim during member lunches. Due to my guilty conscience, I felt an obligation to finish what they gave me. It wasn’t until my fourth transfer (second area) that I had an idea. “What about a competition?” I gasped to my companion. The idea struck me out of nowhere on the way to a member’s house for lunch. Sister Edina had expressed, half-jokingly, at previous lunches that she wanted to quit soda but couldn’t. We decided to make a bet with her that whoever drank soda first had to make the dessert next time she fed us. This worked more wonders than I could have imagined. When we went to other members houses the following days, they would still pull out a soda, but we would apologetically decline, and inform them of our competition with Sister Edina. Everyone knew Sister Edina! They would quickly put it away and offer us cold water, or juice.

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Later in my mission, and 15 pounds heavier, I showed up to my reassignment from Covid, The Arizona Gilbert mission. The APs gave us a car ride to the mission office. In talking, I thought it would be funny to ask him how much weight people generally gained in this mission. He jokingly referenced “The Gilbert Gut,” but in all sincerity, he relayed that he was only about 3 pounds heavier than when he started. With almost a year out, I was amazed that he had stayed so in shape. I naturally asked what he did, and he mentioned that he simply used all his workout time and didn’t stuff himself at member meals.

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Two things stuck out to me: One, it must be possible to stay in shape as a missionary. And two, it really can be that simple. I ended my mission in the best shape of those two years by following this simple routine with my companion:

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Day 1) We would go for a 2-mile run around the block. We would time ourselves to track our improvement.

Day 2) We would do P-90-X Ab Ripper X (which was allowed in my mission).

Day 3) We would wake up 30 minutes early to go to a member’s personal gym that they gave us access to.

Days 4, 5, & 6) repeat.

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I felt good! I felt more energized. I accomplished more for the Lord, in turn, and my companion and I were able to do it together. Now, not everyone is as lucky to have a companion that wants to work out, and access to a gym, especially at the end of their mission, but that is why I have created this program. I have learned for myself that it is possible to stay in shape as a missionary!

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Learn for yourself by taking the journey with me to becoming “one second, one decision, one percent closer . . .” To what? To your desired outcomes.