Gobi

June 28 – Gobi March Update

First, a huge thank you to everyone who supported our fundraising efforts for Templer Foundation’s Erin’s Light program.

We just finished the race today, and unfortunately, things didn’t go as I had planned. Bottom line: I trained and tried really hard. It wasn’t enough. As John Lennon sang, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy makin gother plans.” I had to stop running early in the race due to medical reasons—likely heat exhaustion and a virus. I couldn’t keep any food or water down, which is a non-starter when you’re trying to run through the desert in temperatures well over 100°F. I wasn’t allowed to leave a checkpoint until I could hydrate and eat again.

I’m okay now—though it took four days (and some Zofran) before I could reliably keep anything down. I’ll be spending the next few months getting healthy and piecing myself back together—my foot and knee need a bit of help.

While the race didn’t go the way I had hoped or trained for, I feel like a bit of a cliché in saying that when the “finish the race” door closed, other doors—unexpected and meaningful ones—magically opened.

If the sole goal had been to cross the finish line, then yes—I failed. But the deeper goal included showing up for myself, for my fellow racers, and for Erin’s Light, the philanthropic program named after my daughter Erin, who went to heaven five years ago today. The ethos of Erin’s Light is simple: Be Light. Bring Love. As I travel, I meet people in need—and when we can, we help. Right now, our focus is on supporting impoverished children who need epilepsy medication but can’t access it, and terminally ill or special needs kids and their families who could use a hand—something to bring a little peace, joy, agency, and dignity to their lives. Against that measure, this race was an incredible success. To be clear, there’s a part of me that’s deeply disappointed I didn’t get to finish.

After nearly a year of intense training and all the work Rebecca (my wife) and Nikki (my coach) put in to prepare me—failing to finish just plain sucks.

But… failing also opened the door to possibilities and opportunities I don’t believe I would’ve encountered otherwise.

That said, it took some work to see this. I had to right-size my disappointment and get out of my own way. I was briefly reacquainted with the ugliest parts of my ego—the heroic suffering “poor me” storyline that sometimes shows up when life doesn’t cooperate with my plans. Fortunately, I caught myself. That was my cue to pause, breathe, and lookaround. Sure, my plan had gone awry. But I hadn’t lost another limb or died (Rebecca’s two main conditions for supporting these adventures). I was still in Mongolia, still surrounded by extraordinary people, still part of something special.

When I reconnect with gratitude, everything shifts. Gratitude calms my nervous system and allows me to think clearly. From there, I can be kind, and then simply do the next right thing. It’s a simple process—be grateful, be kind, do the next right thing—and it reliably helps me access the part of my brain that makes thoughtful choices (the prefrontal cortex) instead of letting my emotional wiring (amygdala, hippocampus) run the show. That shift lets me be the person I aspire to be. The person I hope Erin believed I was. It gives me the power to choose what happens next.

So, I chose to enjoy the race anyway. I chose to be a better teammate. And I let Erin’s Light guide the way.

I ended up visiting a remote boarding school I’d never have come across if I’d been racing. Erin would have adored the girls there. After speaking with the principal, we’ve committed to helping renovate their dormitory.

If I hadn’t stopped running, none of that would have happened.

I really, really wanted to finish that race. But… thank you, God, for prayers not answered.

I’m sharing this update as a thank you. None of this—none of it—would have been possible without you. The school renovation, the support we provide to other families and children… I can’t do it alone. I’m so grateful for your financial, practical, and symbolic support.

Heads up: I’ll be back in about a year when I’m healed and training again—looking for your help on the next journey. Let’s go find more people who need a hand and likely wouldn’t have a snowball’s hope in hell of getting it without us. Stay tuned. Oh, and to all the runners who finished the Gobi March—legends, every one of you. You know what it took to navigate the heat, the storms, and everything else the Gobi and Mother Nature threw at us. Thanks for the inspiration and the memories.

To Mary and the Racing the Planet team—thank you for being the real deal. As you say, “It is more than a race.” I was surprised, humbled, and deeply honored to receive the Sportsmanship Award at the closing banquet. Thank you for that.