Patrick Fellows is a 5 time Ironman, TEDx giving, 32 miles swimming, endurance coaching, healthy cooking, entrepreneur and musician.  Born in Dearborn, MI, raised in Mississippi and a Louisianian for 30 years, 

It’s amazing?


This won’t be a post about the overuse of amazing, which is, abundant. No. It’s about the ebb and flow of a day, of a mood, of life really. It may be about starts and stops or maybe re-hashing things. Not 100% sure just yet. I mean, I’ve only just begun.  

For those of you who read this stuff, you may have noticed an absence. Or maybe you just filled the time you dedicated to reading this to Fail Army videos of people getting hit in the nuts. That’s what I probably would have done. 

If you’re still here. Thanks. If you’re not, I’d tell you “you’ll be back” or something, but how would you know?  Maybe someone will relay that message. Thanks in advance if you’re that someone. 

Today for the first time in as long as I can remember, I had this feeling.  It was mostly unrecognizable, but deep down somewhere it seemed familiar. Like a tickle, but not a pinned down and tickled until you peed yourself, more like that satisfying “presneeze” state. 

It came while I was having the best run that I’ve had in like 4 months (my exercise practice has been meh, of late). I was painfully (good pain) rolling along and I noticed it.  Tickle tickle. A mile later it was still there. “Dear god I hope this isn’t a sneeze, because I’ll fall on my face and ruin this run,” I said to myself. 

I kept going. No sneeze. Still tickling. 

When I got home I jumped in the shower and started going through my day when it crystallized. A little at first, like a time lapse of a lake freezing. Starting at the sides and moving in, a solid patch chewing up real estate while reaching towards the other side who’s coming in hot (icy) from the other side of the lake. 

And there it was. 

I felt. Happy. Carefree. This recognition was followed sharply by “like you used to be a lot more.”  

When one has these moments it’s best to latch on. To ride it as long as you can. To try and tie it to a “why” so you can try and recreate it. 

Certainly it was the run that hatched the tickle?  Right?


Help (comma)self