An Iron Will

He has passed out during races. He has crossed finish lines 14 hours after he started. He has watched his wife of 33 years forget his face. And every time life got harder, Karl got back on the bike.

It Started With An Ad

Karl was already a cyclist and already a runner — he had been both since high school, back when he ran track at Des Moines Techincal School, the last class before the school became Central Campus. But in 2006, something caught his eye: an advertisement for a triathlon. He looked at it and thought, I think I can do this.

That winter he joined a gym — then called Aspen, now Genesis Health Systems — and built a routine from scratch. By 2007 he crossed his first finish line. Then, as he puts it, it just kept snowballing.

Most people have never thought about what separates an Olympic triathlon from an Ironman. An Olympic covers about 32 miles. An Ironman covers 140 — a 2.4-mile swim, 112 miles on the bike, then a full marathon of 26.2 miles, all on the same day, with a midnight cutoff. Karl's average finish time is 14 hours. He has passed out during races. He has had a couple of DNFs — Did Not Finish — which happens to roughly 10 percent of participants in any given event. He has kept going anyway, year after year, teaching himself almost everything through trial and error because nobody was there to show him how.

Karl competing at one of his many Ironman events.

His Constant support

Karl trains 15 to 20 hours a week, which he describes as essentially a part-time job stacked on top of his actual one. He also has been a Spin Coach for about 10 years, and teaches classes 3x a week at Genesis Health Systems at 3 different locations.

He does not do any of it alone, though. His daughter Megan has been to every single Ironman except one — she is a cheer coach and had cheering obligations the day of the Florida race. Every other event, she has been there.

In triathlon, someone has to hold everything together outside the race — the gear, the timing, the calm. For Karl, that's Megan. She has learned to take his bike apart. She knows what he needs before he says a word. They don't have to talk. She just knows."

The Bike

Karl's tri bike is a Cervélo, a 2012 model he bought used for a couple thousand dollars. A brand new one runs close to ten thousand. He still has the standard road bike he started with, and he can feel the difference the moment he climbs on the Cervélo — full carbon, featherlight, built for exactly two things.

To fly the bike to a race, he breaks it down and loads it into a specially designed suitcase that cost him around $500. Airlines charge $35 to $50 to check it. It is one of the quieter costs in a sport that adds up fast, and Karl is candid about the financial reality of competing at this level. He and Megan have a GoFundMe page to help with expenses — particularly for Kona. More details here→

For days when Iowa weather makes outdoor riding impossible, Karl uses Zwift — an indoor cycling app where his bike mounts to a smart trainer connected to a laptop and a big-screen TV. His avatar rides virtual routes alongside cyclists from all over the world, and he describes it as feeling like an old-school video game with surprisingly decent graphics.

Karl's Cervélo, a 2012 model built for two things: straight and fast. 

Riding Des Moines

Karl has lived in West Des Moines most of his life, and the city's growing bike infrastructure is something he notices and appreciates. His favorite ride is the Inter Urban Loop — a 20-mile route that takes him through Waterworks Park, past Gray's Lake, up to Principal Park, north to Captain Roy's, down Birdland Drive, through the Beaverdale neighborhood, past Glendale Cemetery, and back home. It takes about an hour and covers good hills, good straightaways, and neighborhoods most people only ever see from a car.

The route passes a handful of bars along the way, but since Karl doesn't drink, he rarely stops. He might pull up to Captain Roy's, or make the trip down to Cumming tap to say hi to Bob — but that's about it. Karl, for his part, hardly ever stops pedaling long enough to coast, let alone pause to refill his water bottle. A quick wave and he's already past.

He is part of a cycling community that has quietly grown larger over the years, with dedicated bike lanes, organized clubs, and gathering spots scattered across the metro. Velorosa Cycling Club is one of the more active groups in the area — women-centered but supported by all, with each member committing to four hours of volunteer work per year. They host events like their annual Sip & Swap at Jasper Winery, a gear swap and silent auction that draws cyclists from across Des Moines.

He is glad for all of it. More riders means more awareness, more trail investment, and more reasons for the city to keep building the infrastructure that makes cycling safer for everyone. Fiancée Teena barely uses her car anymore, commuting almost entirely by bike. Karl has adopted the same mindset: if the weather is nice, you ride.

The Woodshop

When Karl is not training, he builds things. His grandfather taught him woodworking as a teenager, working out of a garage, and after his grandfather passed away Karl kept the practice going. He still has a few of his grandfather's tools — not for use anymore, just for keeping.

Recently he made his four-year-old granddaughter a rocking duck, bright yellow, built from scratch. She loved it. He finds woodworking calming in a way that is hard to explain — somewhere to focus his energy that has nothing to do with miles or pace or finish times.

He is also looking ahead to something new. Karl is planning to take massage therapy classes, with a long-term eye toward specializing in working with triathletes — athletes whose recovery needs are specific and whose muscles take a particular kind of punishment. It is the kind of next chapter that makes sense when you have spent two decades learning a sport entirely from the inside out.

How Teena Found Her Cyclist

Teena was not looking for an Ironman. She was just looking for someone who liked to bike.

When she came across Karl's profile online, it was the bike helmet in his photo that caught her attention. Something about it felt right, so she reached out. What she did not fully realize yet was just how deep that commitment went. As she put it herself, laughing: "I came into this not knowing anything." The bike helmet in the photo was not a casual weekend accessory — it belonged to a man who trains 15 to 20 hours a week, flies his bicycle across the country in a custom suitcase, and is now headed to the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii.

The adjustment was real. Blending two lives always takes time, and Karl's children — Derek and Megan — were a big part of the picture. But they worked through it, the way families do when everyone is willing, and today the fit feels natural. Megan is still at every race — managing the gear, reading Karl before he says a word, holding it all together. Derek is training for his first marathon with Karl as his coach. And Teena is right there beside them, riding the Inter Urban Loop, barely using her car anymore.

She found a guy with a bike helmet. She got the whole beautiful, exhausting, 140-mile package.

Kona

The Ironman World Championship takes place in Kailua-Kona, on the Big Island of Hawaii. Qualifying by speed alone is extraordinarily difficult. But there is another path — the Legacy Program, which opens a spot to athletes who have completed enough Ironman races to earn their place through sheer persistence rather than pace. Karl qualified through Legacy. He is not the fastest. He is just the one who kept showing up.

The race is October 10th, which is also Teena's birthday. Karl and Teena are getting married right here in Des Moines before they leave — and then Hawaii is the honeymoon. Nine family members are making the trip with them, turning what could have been a solo athletic achievement into something much bigger: a celebration of a new chapter, shared with the people who matter most. It will also be Karl's first time ever leaving the continental United States.

He has been to fifteen full Ironman events. He has raced in Wisconsin three times, Kentucky and Tennessee twice each, California twice, Texas four times, and once each in Colorado, Florida, and Iowa — plus countless half Irons scattered across the country. He has logged tens of thousands of training miles right here in Des Moines, on the same loop through Waterworks and Beaverdale that he rides every chance he gets. And now all of it leads to a finish line on a Hawaiian island, with his new wife and his whole family waiting on the other side.

What Kept Him Going

Karl was married for 33 years. He and his wife had two children together — Derek and Megan. In 2019, she was diagnosed with dementia. By 2023, she no longer recognized him. He showed up every day anyway — because that's what you do when you love someone. She passed away in November of that year.

After she was gone, Karl trained more.

It is not a complicated answer, and he does not dress it up. The miles were already there. The routine was already built. The body already knew what to do when the mind needed somewhere to go. He kept swimming before work. He kept running on Saturdays. He kept putting in the hours, one day at a time, until October became something to look forward to again.

He has a son coaching beside him now. A daughter who knows what he needs without asking. A fiancée who fell for a bike helmet and stayed for everything that came with it. And somewhere on the Big Island of Hawaii, a race that has been waiting for him for a very long time.