Life

Racing for SSG Seth Plant: His Story, His Foundation, and Why I Ran

When I crossed the finish line at IRONMAN 70.3 Chattanooga carrying an American flag, the race stopped being about me. For 13.1 miles, through every aid station, every hill, every moment my body wanted to slow down, there was a name attached to that flag: Staff Sergeant Seth Michael Plant. This story isn’t about my finish time. It’s about him. Who Seth Plant Was Seth Michael Plant was born on November 16, 1991, in Jacksonville, Florida. He grew up in Starke, Florida before moving to St. Augustine, where he lived the remainder of his life, when he wasn’t deployed, when he wasn’t serving, when the Army gave him back to the people who loved him. He graduated from Pedro Menendez High School in 2010. Serving his country was a lifelong dream, and he didn’t wait. He enlisted in the United States Army immediately after graduation and pursued that dream with everything he had. His service took him to Afghanistan as part of Operation Enduring Freedom, where he served alongside the United States Navy SEALs. By the time he died, he had recently been promoted to Staff Sergeant, serving in Company C, 3rd Battalion, 509th Infantry Arctic Airborne unit. He was a decorated soldier. Army Commendation Medal. Army Achievement Medal. Army Good Conduct Medal. National Defense Service Medal. Afghanistan Campaign Medal. Global War on Terrorism Service Medal. Non-Commissioned Officer Professional Development Ribbon. Army Service Ribbon. Overseas Service Ribbon. NATO Service Ribbon. Combat Infantryman’s Badge. Parachutist Badge. Arctic Tab. Each one of those represents something he earned — somewhere he went, something he endured, something he did in service to this country that most people will never be asked to do. He was also just a person. Outside of the uniform, Seth worked in the service industry in St. Augustine for years — serving locals and tourists, making friends everywhere he went. He liked working on cars. He welded. He dabbled in construction. He didn’t sit still for long. Everyone who knew him says the same thing: he never met a stranger. He was the son of Michael and Joy Plant. A soldier. A leader. A friend. Gone far too soon at the age of 30, on May 10, 2022, while stationed at Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson in Anchorage, Alaska. If you’d like to learn more about Seth’s life and the legacy his family continues to build in his honor, visit the Say When and Remember Him Facebook page: 👉 Say When and Remember Him Why I Chose Seth The IRONMAN Foundation Gold Star Initiative connects athletes with Gold Star families — families who have lost a loved one in military service. Athletes carry the name of a fallen service member throughout their race, honoring their memory while helping share their story. You can learn more about the IRONMAN Foundation Gold Star Initiative here: 👉 Ironman Foundation I wasn’t assigned Seth through the program. I chose him. My wife and close friends knew Seth long before I ever knew his story. They carried his memory before I knew his name. When I started thinking about who I wanted to honor during my first IRONMAN 70.3, there really wasn’t another choice. It was always going to be Seth. Say When and Remember Him After Seth’s passing, his family chose to build something meaningful from their loss. They created the Say When and Remember Him Foundation — a 501(c)(3) registered non-profit in the State of Florida — to honor the way Seth lived: hardworking, service-oriented, and always willing to show up for someone else. The foundation awards scholarships to graduating high school seniors who are pursuing the paths Seth valued most: military service, trade schools, and first responder training. Scholarships are available to seniors graduating from: Last year’s scholarships reached students entering culinary programs, esthetics, lineman training, electrical, plumbing, the U.S. Army, and first responder academies. This year, the foundation is working to get $35,000 into the hands of deserving seniors ready to build a life through service and skilled work. If you know a graduating senior from one of those schools, or if exceptions apply, reach out directly: 📧 saywhenandrememberhim@gmail.com Seth never met a stranger. He worked with his hands. He served his country. He believed in showing up. His family found a way to keep those values moving forward. [PHOTO #4 – FOUNDATION LOGO, FUNDRAISER, SCHOLARSHIP PRESENTATION, OR FOUNDATION EVENT] To follow the foundation’s work, scholarship announcements, and community events, visit: 👉 https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100092266125091 Carrying His Name Through 13.1 Miles The flag came out at the beginning of the run. And it never went away. Attached to it was a memorial ribbon that read: “SSG Seth Michael Plant — Say When & Remember Him.” For 13.1 miles, his name led the way. Every aid station. Every mile marker. Every moment I wanted to stop. 13.1 miles on tired legs, after 1.4 miles of swimming and 56 miles of biking. Late in a race. Deep in the part where everything hurts and your brain starts looking for reasons to slow down. Seth Plant served in Afghanistan with Navy SEALs. He earned the Arctic Tab and the Combat Infantryman’s Badge. He went to places most people will never go and did things most people will never be asked to do. And he was 30 when it ended. Every mile of that run when I wanted to walk longer, I thought about Seth. He didn’t get a choice about his hard day. I did. So I kept moving. One aid station at a time. One mile at a time. One step at a time. The flag stayed up for every one of those 13.1 miles. From the moment I picked it up until the moment I crossed the finish line in 8:44:02. That finish-line moment, flag raised, family waiting, completely exhausted — was for him. A Note to Fellow Veterans I served in the United States Air Force. I didn’t serve where Seth served. I didn’t deploy where he deployed. I didn’t earn the decorations he

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Why I Signed Up for an Ironman 70.3

It started with a TikTok. No plan. No background in triathlon. Just a random video that showed up on my feed. A father-son duo… Team Agar. I don’t even remember why I stopped scrolling, but I did. And I watched the whole thing. And somewhere in that video, a thought hit me that wouldn’t go away: If he can do it… why can’t I? Where I Was at the Time At that point in my life, I was a long-haul truck driver. Long days. Long nights. Sitting more than moving. I was well over 350 pounds, and if I’m being honest, endurance sports weren’t even on my radar. An Ironman felt like something reserved for a completely different type of person. People who had been athletes their whole lives. People who had it figured out. Not me. The Thought That Didn’t Go Away But that one thought stuck. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It didn’t come with a perfect plan. It was just simple and persistent: He can do it… so can I. And once that thought was there, I couldn’t ignore it. Starting Before I Felt Ready I didn’t jump straight into triathlons. I didn’t even know where to start. I just started moving. Walking turned into consistency.Consistency turned into trying new things.Eventually that led me into the pool, onto a bike, and out onto runs that didn’t look pretty and didn’t feel easy. But I kept showing up. And that’s when things started to change. From “Someday” to Right Now At first, doing an Ironman felt like a someday goal. Something far off. Something unrealistic. But then something shifted. I stopped thinking about whether I could do it and started asking: Why not now? So I signed up for an Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga. Not because I was ready. But because I was ready to become someone who could be. Proof That It’s Already Working Since making that decision, I’ve already stepped onto the start line. I’ve completed sprint triathlons. I’ve figured things out the hard way. I’ve learned what race day actually feels like. And I’ve proven to myself that this isn’t just an idea anymore. It’s real. This is happening. What This Journey Is Really About This isn’t just about finishing 70.3 miles. It’s about changing my life. It’s about discipline over comfort.Consistency over motivation.Progress over perfection. It’s about becoming someone who shows up even when it’s hard. Because it will get hard. If You’re Waiting for the Right Time There isn’t one. You won’t feel ready. You won’t have it all figured out. And that’s okay. Because neither did I. All it takes is one moment. One thought you don’t ignore. For me, it was a TikTok. Forward Is Still a Speed I’m still in the middle of this. Still learning. Still building. Still showing up. But I started. And that changed everything. Follow the Journey If you want to follow along with the training, races, and everything in between: 👉 https://www.strava.com/athletes/truckertotri

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Three Times Through: The Race I’ll Never Forget

Most races, you cross the finish line and it’s over. This one? I’ll carry this one with me forever. A Different Kind of Race This wasn’t your typical sprint triathlon. This was a Triple Super Sprint at the Tomahawk Sprint and Super Sprint Triathlons. Which means instead of one race… You do it three times. Back to back. No reset. No starting fresh. And then you do it again. And then again. Three full rounds. Round One — Figuring It Out The first round felt controlled. I knew I could swim. I knew I could get through it. But there’s always that question in the back of your head: How is this going to feel the second time? Round Two — Now It’s a Race By the second round, things started to settle in. Not physically… mentally. Because now you realize: You’re not even halfway done. Your body starts to feel it. Transitions feel slower. Legs start to get heavy. But you keep moving. Round Three — This Is Where It Counts This is where it got real. Fatigue is there. Legs are cooked. Everything feels harder than it should. And this is where the race becomes less about fitness… And more about mindset. You’re not chasing a time anymore. You’re just choosing not to stop. The Finish I Didn’t Plan Coming into that final stretch, I saw him. My nephew. Waiting near the finish. And without really thinking about it… I picked him up. That moment changed everything. Because suddenly, it wasn’t about the race anymore. It wasn’t about times. Or pace. Or how tired I was. It was about something bigger. Crossing that finish line carrying him… that’s something I’ll never forget. What This Race Meant This race pushed me. Physically, yeah. But more than that, it showed me something. That I can keep going when things get uncomfortable.That I can handle more than I think.That this journey isn’t just about me anymore. More Than Just Training At the end of the day, this isn’t just about triathlon. It’s about the moments along the way. The people who are there. The memories you don’t expect to make. Forward Is Still a Speed Three rounds. One finish line. And a moment I’ll carry with me forever. This is why I started. And this is why I’m not stopping. Follow the Journey 👉 https://www.strava.com/athletes/truckertotri

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Starting From Zero: How a 350-Pound Truck Driver Became an IRONMAN 70.3 Finisher

If you found this page, there’s a good chance you’re looking for proof. Proof that it’s not too late. Proof that you don’t need a background in sports. Proof that someone who looks like you, came from where you came from, and started where you started — can actually do something like this. This is that proof. My name is DJ. I’m a USAF veteran, a former Class A CDL truck driver, a college student in my 30s, and as of May 2026 — an IRONMAN 70.3 finisher. That last sentence still feels surreal to type. This is the whole story. From the beginning. Who I Was Before All of This Not that long ago, my life looked completely different. I was a long-haul truck driver. Class A CDL. I spent most of my hours sitting behind a wheel, moving freight across the country, and honestly not thinking much about my health. I was well over 350 pounds. I had served in the United States Air Force, which gave me discipline and a sense of mission — but when I got out, that structure disappeared. Life got comfortable in the wrong ways. Long hours on the road, bad food, not enough movement, and the slow grind of a lifestyle that wasn’t moving me anywhere I wanted to go. Endurance sports weren’t even on my radar. An IRONMAN? That was something for a completely different type of person. Someone younger. Someone who’d been an athlete their whole life. Someone who had it figured out. Not a trucker in his 30s trying to stay awake on I-40 at 2am. The Moment That Changed Everything It started with a TikTok. No plan. No epiphany. Just a random video that showed up on my feed one night. A father and son. Team Agar. Racing together. And somewhere in that video — watching them push through something that looked impossibly hard — a thought landed that I couldn’t shake loose: If he can do it… why can’t I? I don’t know why that specific video hit me the way it did. I’ve scrolled past thousands of workout videos without a second thought. But something about that one was different. It was simple. Real. And it didn’t feel like it was made for athletes. It felt like it was made for someone who just decided to try. I kept thinking about it the next day. And the day after that. If he can do it… so can I. And once that thought was there, I couldn’t put it back. Starting Before I Was Ready I want to be honest about what starting looked like. Because it wasn’t a movie montage. I didn’t sign up for a race the next morning. I didn’t join a triathlon club. I didn’t hire a coach. I just started moving. Walking turned into consistency. Consistency turned into trying new things. New things turned into a pool, a bike, and runs that weren’t pretty and definitely weren’t fast. At the time, I was still driving trucks. Training looked like moving my bed aside to set up my indoor trainer in my bedroom. It looked like squeezing a run into a truck stop parking lot whenever I could. It looked like figuring everything out the hard way, one workout at a time. There was no perfect setup. There was no right time. There was just a decision to keep showing up until something changed. The First Start Line Eventually, I signed up for my first triathlon. The K-Town on the River Triathlon in Knoxville, Tennessee. Race morning, I looked around at transition and thought: Everyone here has done this before. I’m just trying to figure it out. But I was there. And that mattered more than I realized. The swim was the one place I felt confident — growing up with a competitive swimming background helped, even if open water is a completely different animal. Once I settled in, it felt strong. The bike course had more elevation than I expected. The run felt like my legs belonged to someone else. And none of it mattered. Because I crossed that finish line. And when the results posted — 3rd place, Clydesdale division — I didn’t see that coming. I just wanted to finish. But that moment flipped a switch. Okay. This is real. Keep going. Building Momentum After K-Town, I kept racing. At the Triple Super Sprint at Tomahawk, I did the same course three times back to back. By the third round, legs cooked and everything hurting, I saw my nephew near the finish line. I picked him up and carried him across. That’s a moment I’ll carry for the rest of my life. Then came the North Knox Sprint Triathlon — 17 days before my first IRONMAN 70.3. My chain wouldn’t shift. I hit 42 mph downhill. I finished 1st in the Clydesdale division with a time of 1:42:54. Not because the race was perfect. Because it wasn’t, and I finished anyway. That’s been the theme of this whole journey. The Mission That Found Me Somewhere along the way, this stopped being just about me. Through the IRONMAN Foundation Gold Star Initiative, I had the honor of carrying an American flag across 70.3 miles in memory of Staff Sergeant Seth Michael Plant. SSG Plant gave everything in service to this country. His family carries that weight every single day. Carrying that flag — on the run, through the hard miles, all the way to the finish line — changed what this race meant. When my legs hurt, the flag stayed up. When I wanted to walk longer, the flag stayed up. When the emotions hit near the finish line, the flag stayed up. It’s hard to complain about temporary pain when you’re carrying a symbol tied to someone who gave everything. What 70.3 Miles Actually Feels Like On May 17, 2026, I stood on the start line of IRONMAN 70.3 Chattanooga. 1.2 miles of swimming. 56 miles of biking. 13.1

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