In 2017 I had a liver transplant. A few years later, I created an unsanctioned triathlon in the Colorado mountains — named for the organ that gave me a second shot — and then completed it. Then I moved to New York and did it again.
In 2017, I found out I needed a liver transplant. I spent the better part of that year with a drain and a long, slow road back. Six weeks after the transplant, I ran a 10k. Not because I had to — because I needed to know I could.
A few years later, I wanted to do something that honored that chapter without making it the whole story. Something that was hard enough to mean something, but fun enough to bring people into it. LiverMan 100 was the answer.
LiverMan 100 is an unsanctioned endurance event — meaning no governing body, no official sanction, no medical staff on course. You get the route when you register. You're responsible for yourself. That's part of the point.
I organized the course, the logistics, the aid stations, the sponsors, the merch. I also did it myself — stood at the top of Mt. Sanitas at midnight, after everything, with one of my best friends. Complete silence. That moment was worth every hour of planning.
After moving to New York, I brought the spirit of LiverMan to a new city. New Liver New York 50K was the direct sequel — same ethos, new borough. Built the race, organized the participants, ran the whole thing again. The name says it all.
I don't tell this story to be impressive. I tell it because it's honest about who I am: someone who, when faced with something hard, tends to build something rather than just endure it. I see that instinct in my work too — the QBR program I built from scratch, the cross-functional push to save the $800K account. When something doesn't exist yet and it should, I go make it.
LiverMan is what I do when there's no playbook and no one telling me to do it. That's the version of me that shows up at work too.