Ideas in the Wild: How Adam Hill Broke Free From His Alcoholism to Become an Ironman

Zach Obront
Authority Magazine
Published in
5 min readFeb 13, 2022

It was never part of Adam Hill’s life ambition or his genetic constitution to wear a Speedo in public, let alone compete in a triathlon. For the first three decades of life, he was the poster child for non-athleticism, obsessively unhealthy habits, and an intense fear of…well…everything.

Yet at the age of 33, with a physique that could only be described as “Sasquatch with a Dad Bod,” he put aside his insecurities and took his first step toward an outrageous dream: to qualify for the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii.

It was a dream shared by nearly every other triathlete in the world, reserved for the top 1 percent of all athletes in the sport — a sport in which Adam had exactly zero experience.

In Shifting Gears, Adam shares his harrowing, inspiring, and sometimes-clumsy story of transformation, from the origins of a debilitating anxiety disorder to his battle with alcoholism to his rise to the top of the triathlon world stage. I recently caught up with Adam to learn more about why he wrote the book and the ideas he shares with readers.

Why did you write this book?

I was at mile eighteen of a marathon after a 2.4-mile swim and a 112-mile bike ride in the Mexican desert. I was as sick as a dog in a porta potty, and in a pretty shameful state. I was racing in an Ironman to prove how healthy and fit I was, but this experience was oddly reminiscent of my days as a heavy drinker — hugging toilet seats, passing out in random places, and suffering from what alcoholics call “incomprehensible demoralization.”

I thought of all the times my alcohol abuse hurt my family. I thought of the shame and humiliation it brought them. I thought of myself dying at an early age, unable to see my daughter and son graduate from high school and college. I thought of how I used to wake up full of fear and anxiety, forced to fake it through the day until I could finally drink my liquid solution.

I had been sober for two years at that moment. A little over a year before this race, I quit smoking, put down the junk food, and got my unhealthy self off the couch. Having achieved a dramatic spiritual and psychological transformation through sobriety, I wanted to make a similar physical transformation. I wanted to qualify for the Ironman World Championship. This was my first attempt at achieving that goal, and while it wasn’t going quite to plan, the journey to the starting line led to the transformation I wanted to achieve and became a catalyst for transcending my fears.

What’s a lesson you learned during your journey that you share in the book?

I never figured out a way to drink like a normal person. The truth is that I never even wanted to drink like a normal person. I didn’t come to that realization until I got sober. The idea of just having “a drink or two” doesn’t appeal to me. The obsessive nature of my mind leads me to think of drinking compulsively to inebriation and beyond. Even now, I could never simply think of a single drink. My mind automatically goes to the bottle, or bottles — enough so that I cannot physically drink more.

Regardless of how long I had been sober, all it took was a single sip and the cycle of misery started again. Before too long, I once again drank myself into a blackout, breaking the rules I had set for myself, embarrassing myself and my wife, and hiding empty bottles until the guilt and shame became too much to bear.

Then came the crash and the DUI. It was my rock bottom. It was an event so frightening and damaging that it caused me to question whether I deserve to live. I had broken my very last rule and put people in danger. I turned into someone I hated and who was hated by society. Only sheer luck kept me from killing or injuring anyone else.

It opened a door that, up to that point, had never been opened. The door to willingness. With willingness came an open mind to the advice that the old-timers had given me time and again.

“Sobriety should be number one.”

“Wait a year before making any life changes.”

Walking out of the jail cell, sobriety became number one.

I had to want it more than anything else in my life.

How has this lesson changed your life?

In the year to come, long after the suffering, physical pain, and euphoria of this race faded into my memory, I would find equilibrium in my life again. I would find balance with work and life, build a coaching platform, and continue to develop my talents as an athlete. Yet my mind wasn’t on any of that at this moment. I was simply taking in the whole experience, living in the present moment, looking around me at all of the iconic scenes, and willing them into my memory.

My car crash and DUI was the moment that my life changed forever. It was my bottom. The point that could have been a tragedy of my own making but instead became the catalyst for positive transformation. I thought to myself, Should I feel ashamed of who I was or grateful that a bad situation led me to become who I am?

I’ve learned through experience with sobriety and anxiety that shame is not a productive emotion. It’s an emotion people may wish on others who caused destruction, but shame only brings more ruin and hopelessness. Instead of shame, we should seek a genuine willingness to change and transcend our previous destructive patterns. We should take daily massive action in the direction of the person we want to become. We should seek to forgive ourselves and make amends for the harm we have caused. Only then can we begin to heal and grow.

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