From a Teen’s Perspective: Drawing inspiration from Cortney Weintz

I often preach many of the same ideas in this column. I talk about the value of working hard, trying new things, and pursuing your genuine interests regardless of societal pressure. It’s easy to write this advice down, yet quite a bit harder to actually stick to it.

That’s why I knew I had struck gold when I met Cortney Weintz. He’s a Menlo-Atherton High School and Stanford University alum who has devoted himself to a monumental goal — competing in the Kona World Championships IronMan Triathlon.

This article is partially an excuse to tell Cortney’s incredible story with all its exciting narrative value. Yet it’s also an opportunity to reflect on how Cortney’s attitude towards his training and his life continue to bring him success and satisfaction.

Let’s go back to where it all began.

Cortney has always enjoyed and excelled at being part of a team. He played volleyball all four years at M-A (pictured spiking the ball) and still credits it as one of the best team experiences of his life. So much so that he still gets together with his teammates years later.

In addition to volleyball, Cortney became a vital member of another team. He remembers touring the Riekes Center for the first time and meeting its founder Gary Riekes. Gary looked Cortney dead in the eyes and said, “You will work here one day.”

Little did Cortney know, Gary’s prophecy soon came through. Cortney took advantage of the center’s fitness programs to learn about exercise. yet within six months, he was teaching others how to work out.

He learned other new skills at the Center and soon after taught them to newer members. He even MC’d on a rap track!

So, how does a volleyball-loving, exercise-teaching, occasionally-rapping extraordinaire become a world-class triathlete?

Cortney’s family-friend Kevin Heller was an avid triathlete who consistently urged him to try participating in a triathlon, to which Cortney dismissed as an impossibility for himself.

Kevin was diagnosed with ALS and gradually lost his mobility. He founded the #giveemheller team to raise awareness about ALS and funding for research into the disease. The team put on the nation’s highest-grossing ALS fundraiser in 2019, raising over $365,000.

Sadly, Kevin passed away in 2021. Gary Riekes also passed around the same time.

After losing two cherished figures in his life, Cortney decided to set a goal to honor Kevin and Gary’s relentless spirit. What better goal than competing in an Ironman Triathlon?

Let’s take a moment to appreciate the intensity of an Ironman. The race consists of a 2.4-mile swim followed by a 112-mile bike ride and finally a 26.22-mile run. If you’re winded just thinking about that, don’t worry, so am I.

Cortney’s first round of Ironman training was rushed (before signing up he had never swum laps before) and ultimately resulted in an overuse injury that left him limping across the finish line, technically completing his goal yet leaving him hungry for more.

He began training for last year’s Sacramento Ironman with greater experience and understanding of what he needed to do to succeed. He ran, biked, and swam for hours on end, with just as much food and sleep in between to compensate and restore his body.

Cortney went into the Ironman with a solid plan: just make it through the swim, give it his all on the bike, and maintain his position during the run. The actual race, however, didn’t go exactly according to plan.

He finished the swim eight minutes behind first place, a seemingly small amount of time but that can mean everything in a narrow race.

Cortney’s energy level is low, and he struggles to push his limits on the bike. And then 20 miles in, like a Shakespearean tragedy, the competitor in front of him crashes, and Cortney flies over his handlebars in what I can only imagine appears like a slow-motion accident you relucantly can’t turn away from.

Yet where most people would accept defeat, Cortney uses it to his advantage. Within 58 seconds he’s up and riding once more, adrenaline peaking from the nerves of the crash. He uses this newfound energy to propel himself into first place, so much so that he begins the running portion with a 12-minute lead — a solid gap, yet no sure promise of victory.

The first half of the run passes easily (well, as easily it could be for someone who just swam and cycled as fast as they could). Cortney sidles up against a fellow competitor, and the two keep each other company as they match pace.

Then, with 10 miles left, Cortney’s parents tell him that someone is rapidly climbing the leaderboard, running at a pace set to surpass Cortney in the final mile. In silent agreement with Ryan, Cortney surges ahead, determined to reach the finish line first.

Cortney reaches the final stretch with stabbing cramps and gradually receding vision, half-delirious as he stumbles forward. He reaches the point of physiological breakdown— his body cannot obey his mind any longer.

His muscles irreversably relax, and he collapses to the ground just 15 feet away from the finish line.

This will not be the reason I lose, he thinks, using his last desperate drops of energy to crawl forward. He is no longer a conscious man but a self-destructing machine with one singular directive: Cross. That. Line.

His grasping palms climb the hard horizontal surface, and then suddenly he is done. He’s finished the Ironman.

Cortney is whisked away to the medical tent, where they play what he describes as “Whack-a-Mole” with his cramps — he points at the twisting pain as it re-appears within different muscles, and each time doctors quickly bend various limbs to try and relieve it.

Eventually, Cortney is able to check the leaderboard and finds his name on top. His mind catches up to his muscles as it finally relaxes, allowing him to enjoy the fruits of his tireless labor. He’s won, which means he has a spot at the next Ironman World Championships in Kona!

I asked Cortney what he wants for his future. He said he wants to see where this road takes him. He’s found something he loves, something that both inspires him and lets him inspire others. And more importantly, he has the courage to pursue his goals with dedication and joy.

It’s rare to find someone who truly values and dedicates themself to passion and hard work. The idea of taking this leap of faith — pursuing that dream, following that unpredictable path — can seem so scary in our heads. I look at Cortney and see someone who is successful and satisfied not because they reached a finite set of goals but because they revel in the adventure of continuously setting and pursuing new ones. When we have role models like him, it’s clear to see that we can all be brave enough to live our lives not as the versions of ourselves who accept what is expected, but as the versions of ourselves who daringly whisper, “What if…?”

Top photo courtesy of Riekes Center; Courtney at playing volleyball at M-A by courtesy Eric Weintz

Dylan Lanier is a senior at Menlo-Atherton High School; his column appears weekly