Month: April 2025

Good Endurance vs. Bad Endurance, What to Push Through In Triathlon Training and Life

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

When we talk about endurance sports, we often hear about battling through pain. So much of the sport is about pushing our limits, and it’s in that process where we truly improve. When it gets hard, that’s when we’re challenged. That’s when we discover who we are. That’s when we endure.

That’s when we prove to ourselves: we are not quitters.

Don’t be a quitter.

Of course, this mindset isn’t just for sport. We can bring that kind of endurance to every part of life. Don’t give up on what you started. Follow through on what you said you’d do. As a creative, I know that struggle well. How many projects have I started only to abandon them halfway through?

In life and in triathlon, endurance is everything. When things get hard, scary, or painful, we have to push through. We have to keep going.

During this training block, I faced plenty of challenges—not just tough workouts, but all the resistance that comes with the sport. There are always reasons to stop.

Lately, I’ve been finding it hard to get on the bike for long rides. Not just because of the weather, but because of my schedule. This season doesn’t really allow me to be away for hours. And sure, I don’t need that long of a session for a sprint triathlon, but I still feel like I should be putting in the time. My new dog, my new job—life has been full, and it’s been keeping me off the bike.

But I’m still enduring. And enduring sometimes means problem-solving. Last year, I relied on Zwift for convenient indoor training. When it stopped connecting to my bike, I tried Rouvy. But I wasn’t riding enough to justify the cost, so I cancelled.  I thought I just had to tough it out with nothing but numbers on my watch, but that’s unnecessary suffering. I signed up for MyWhoosh last week, and suddenly, my excitement for biking returned.

Things go wrong. Equipment breaks. Problems arise. We have to endure that, too. This is the good kind of endurance—the kind that builds patience, confidence, resilience. Not just physical strength, but mental strength too.

Recently, my GPS watch started glitching. After just a year, the battery drains quickly, and the elevation tracking stopped working. I’m working with support to fix it, but it’s frustrating. When my gear isn’t working, my motivation drops. I love collecting data—tracking workouts, measuring progress. When the metrics are off, everything feels off. It’s like playing hockey with dull skates. But I kept going anyway. And good news: I discovered Strava has a “Correct Elevation” feature, so even if my watch is wrong, I can fix it.

This is what endurance really looks like—dealing with the little things. Because when you don’t deal with them, they pile up. It’s like cleaning your house—if you clean as you go, it’s easy. If you don’t, it becomes a mess. Maybe even a hoarder-level mess.

Good endurance is good habit. It’s confidence. It’s delayed gratification.

But not all endurance is good.

Bad endurance is ego. It’s pushing through when you shouldn’t. It’s training through injury. It’s ignoring your mind and body. It’s refusing to fuel or rest properly. It’s bottling up your feelings. It’s not asking for help when you need it.

Bad endurance is thinking you’re strong for holding your hand to the flame. Sure, it might impress someone in the short term—but long term, it only burns you. Physically, mentally.

Bad endurance is staying in toxic relationships or jobs. It’s putting up with bullying and gaslighting. That kind of endurance doesn’t make you stronger—it chips away at you. It erodes your confidence. It delays your healing.

After everything I’ve been through these last few years, I’m learning what’s worth enduring and what isn’t. What makes me stronger, and what just does damage. What’s worth waiting for, and what isn’t.

Triathlon is an endurance sport—but that doesn’t mean you should endure everything. There’s good endurance, and there’s bad endurance.

I remind myself of this whenever I feel like quitting. I take a moment to reflect on what’s really stopping me. Am I avoiding a problem I could solve? Am I just making an excuse? Or am I actually being fair and reasonable with myself?

That said, training is going well. After a few speed bumps with my health, I’m feeling good. So I’m trying something new: riding across the Lion’s Gate Bridge into West Van, down to Ambleside Beach. It was my first time doing that route, and let me tell you—the descent off the bridge is way steeper than I expected. But I stayed calm. I didn’t stop. I managed the panic.

And that, to me, is good endurance.

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Old Challenges and New Challenges of Triathlon Training

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

This is my third year training for triathlon. So many things that once felt new now feel like routine—but that doesn’t mean they feel old. A training plan stretches across months, and because life keeps moving—your schedule shifts, your body changes, the world changes around you—none of it ever stays the same. It’s like that saying: you never step into the same river twice. Even if the actions—swimming, cycling, running—are familiar, the route, the time of day, the body you’re moving in… none of it is exactly as it was before.

My body is in constant flux. Some days it’s tired, others it’s fresh. Sometimes I ache. Sometimes I feel strong.

Life throws a mix of old and new challenges. Things I’ve done before and continue to refine, and things I’m encountering for the first time. This season, like clockwork, allergies hit me hard. Hay fever, maybe a cold too—right during the week I had off before starting a new job. Not ideal timing.

The new job has been exciting—a fresh challenge, new systems to learn, new people to meet. It’s energized me, but it’s also demanded my focus, and that’s meant training has taken a back seat some days.

And then there’s Petey, our new rescue dog. It’s been three months now, and while he’s adjusting well, he doesn’t exactly make triathlon training easier. Every day is a puzzle of syncing his needs with mine and my wife’s schedules. On top of that, we’re trying to figure out what to do with him on race day—we don’t think we can leave him alone for that long. Ideally, we’d bring him with us.

That means, in a way, he’s training too. We’re slowly getting him used to more stimulating environments—other people, other dogs—but more importantly, we’re helping him get used to me leaving him. That’s been the hardest part. On walks, if I duck into a store or step away, he panics. So we’re working on that—teaching him to stay calm when I leave, helping him understand that I always come back. Patience, consistency, and making those moments feel safe are key.

There’s a lot going on. At times, more than I feel I can juggle. Priorities shift day to day. But strangely, all of this has helped me stay present. When I do get to train, it feels even more meaningful. Something I look forward to. Something that feels like mine.

I’ve done triathlon before. I’ve even raced this upcoming course before. But nothing about this season feels the same—and that’s what makes it thrilling.

Like today. I’m riding out to Burnaby to do what I call the Brentwood loop. I grew up in Burnaby North—a suburb just outside Vancouver—and this area is so familiar to me. But every time I return, something’s different. New buildings, new shops, new roads—but also, pieces of it stay the same.

Things shift—over years, over days, even from one moment to the next. One second it’s sunny, the next it’s raining. That’s just how it goes.

So: enjoy the ride.

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Adopting a Shelter Dog: 3 Months of Transformation with Petey

/ Elliot Chan / Leave a comment

It’s been over three months since we adopted Petey from the shelter. When we first brought him home, we had an idea of what he’d been through and knew he had a lot of healing to do. But day to day, the progress was hard to see.

Now, looking back, it’s incredible to see how far he’s come in such a short time. It gives us so much hope that he can grow into his full potential—confident, obedient, and chill.

Of course, it’s still a work in progress, and there’s a long way to go. But at the three-month mark, there’s already so much to celebrate.

They say three months is a big milestone for a shelter dog—it’s when they start feeling truly comfortable in their new home, and their real personality starts to shine through.

And while we’ve seen some major wins in his behavior, the biggest surprise? His physical transformation.

Physical Changes:

When we first brought Petey home, he was emaciated—you could literally see the stress and anxiety on his face. He was always on high alert like some paranoid drug addict. On top of that, he had these concerning rashes on his elbows.

Petey doesn’t have a lot of hair, so his skin is extra vulnerable, but the rashes didn’t seem like they were from rubbing against anything. The vet recommended an elimination diet and prescribed a medical shampoo for his baths. We also got him some clothes—not just to protect him from the elements, but to stop him from licking himself raw.

Now, at the three-month mark, Petey has never looked better. He’s filled out, his face looks noticeably less stressed, and even the bags under his eyes have lightened—though he still has those signature Steve Buscemi eyes. His hair has thickened up a bit (even in the places we thought he couldn’t grow hair), and most importantly, the rashes on his elbows are completely gone.

We’re not 100% sure what did the trick—whether it was allergies, bacteria, or just the stress—but I’m leaning toward a bacterial infection. So, as much as he hates bath time, those medicated washes probably made the biggest difference.

Barking at Noises

Over the past three months, Petey has made huge progress when it comes to dealing with noises—whether it’s sounds from the alley, the hallway, or even the TV.

When we first brought him home, things like garbage trucks beeping or our neighbors coming and going would send him into a meltdown. In those early weeks, he’d bark like crazy and take anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes to calm down—which was frustrating.

But now? He still hears the sounds, but instead of instantly reacting, he actually pauses and thinks about it. And if he does decide to bark, we can stop him with just our voices and redirect him to something else.

That’s a huge win. It gives us hope that, soon enough, these noises won’t even phase him—he’ll be completely used to it.

Biting Blankets and Cushions

Petey loves biting soft things. But he also loves relaxing on soft things. And, well, that creates a bit of a dilemma.

In the first two months, he was fixated on chewing blankets and cushions. We got him a bed, but he just kept biting it—so we had to take it away. It was one of the biggest signs that he couldn’t be trusted alone.

To curb the destruction, we tried a chew-prevention spray—basically just bitter flavoring. Did it work? Yes, for a bit, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. 

Fast forward to today, and while Petey still has the occasional urge to chew, the difference is that now, when we tell him to stop, he actually listens. That’s a huge milestone. Before, I’d have to physically block him, which would just make him double down—his “shelter brain” would kick in, and sometimes, in the chaos, he’d bark, jump, and snap at me.

Now, the only time he really goes for our stuff is when he’s chewing one of his toys and—by pure coincidence—a cushion or a blanket corner ends up in his mouth. At that point, the temptation is just too strong. But even then, we can call him off with just our voices. 

Most recently, we’ve introduced the bed back into the equation and while he still has the urge to bite it, there are also occasions where he is able to control himself enough so that he is able to lie down and even take a nap in it. 

That’s huge progress.

Being Left Alone

Probably the biggest struggle with Petey right now is leaving him alone.

He has a lot of trauma from being locked in a crate, and if we put him in one, it takes just a few seconds before he starts freaking out. We can extend it to a few minutes with a Kong. But even just closing him in a room is a challenge. We set up a camera to see what he does when the door is shut, and… yeah, he just jumps at the door over and over until he’s exhausted.

This is one area where, honestly, we haven’t made a ton of progress. We worry about him getting himself into trouble—or worse, annoying the neighbors with his constant yapping.

So, we’re taking it slow. Little by little.

We’ll leave him in the living room while we work in our offices—he’ll nap on the couch while we do. He’s fine when we step away for a bathroom break. And occasionally, we’ll step outside to throw out the garbage while he stays in the living room.

It’s going to take patience—on both sides. But lately, thanks to some afternoon naps together, Petey has started to chill out a bit. There have even been times when he takes himself to the bedroom to rest on his own. We have faith that as he develops more confidence, he’ll start seeking more opportunities to be independent. 

While there is no hard date. We do have a timeline—there’s going to come a day when we have to leave him alone. So, we’re really hoping the next three months bring more progress than the first three. Fingers crossed.

Walks

When we first got Petey, walks were a whole thing.

The smallest things would spook him—someone walking down the street, a shadow from a tree, kids playing, a random bang from the construction site down the block. But nothing freaked him out more than other dogs.

In the past three months, he’s gotten way better with people walking by and random noises. And for the most part, he can handle dogs in the distance. What he can’t handle? A dog—or even a person—coming too close to our home. If another dog walks by our gate, he gets territorial, barking and charging like a little maniac.

One time, he actually pulled out of his leash on me—and I swear, that was the most terrified I have ever been in my entire life. Luckily, we both survived that ordeal. And honestly? We both grew from it.

The key on walks has been constant treats. The more he’s enjoying himself, the less likely he is to freak out. But we’ve still got work to do—especially when I’m walking him with my wife, and one of us has to duck into a store. That situation? Still a struggle.

The best part, though? I’ve started taking him on some runs. It’s not the most efficient workout for me yet, but I know it’s something we can keep practicing and get better at over time.

The Most Cuddly Boy

If there’s one thing we’ve learned about Petey in the past three months, it’s that he is one of the cuddliest dogs I’ve ever met—and honestly, we couldn’t be happier about it. He’s only gotten more cuddly over time, and it’s clear this isn’t just a phase. This is who he is.

And to think—at the shelter, there were discussions to euthanize this sweet guy. It’s almost unbelievable when I look at him now.

Petey is just this happy, fun-loving guy. If it weren’t for the rough start he had in life, he’d be an all-star dog. He’s super smart, pure-hearted, and the longer we have him, the more he reminds us of our first dog, Michael.

Like Michael, Petey is part Boston Terrier, and we’re starting to see those traits shine through. It feels like Michael’s spirit is guiding Petey in some way—and that thought just fills us with so much joy.

When I look at Petey in profile, I see Michael. It’s crazy how this dog found us, just like we found him. It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly for all three of us.

These past three months have been challenging, frustrating, and exhausting at times—but watching him heal, seeing his progress, and knowing how far he’s come? That makes it all worth it. We couldn’t be more proud.

Join my YouTube community for insights on writing, the creative process, and the endurance needed to tackle big projects. Subscribe Now!

For more writing ideas and original stories, please sign up for my mailing list. You won’t receive emails from me often, but when you do, they’ll only include my proudest works.