Race day at this year’s Ironman Arizona started like so many others—chilly, quiet, tense. Winds were calm at dawn, but not competitors’ minds. In just a few short weeks, talk had gone from wondering whether there would even be water in Tempe Town Lake to just how cold it would be on morning. In addition to colder-than-normal water, athletes had to face a rare forecast calling for high winds and rain.

These are just the kind of conditions that can force an athlete into panic mode and make them run for cover. For 36-year-old Michael Perkins, however, the conditions were nothing he hadn’t experienced before. He’d faced nearly every weather scenario, from winter’s wrath to summer’s oppressive heat, just not on an Ironman course. He’d lived through them for several years as a homeless drug addict and alcoholic on the streets of Phoenix, Tempe, Las Vegas, Wyoming, Texas, and wherever he could hitch the next ride.

“I was the dirty guy holding the cardboard sign … the guy who did the same thing over and over expecting a different result.”

For Perkins, this year’s Ironman Arizona was monumental. He was visiting the city where he’d lived with his wife and held down a successful career. He was acknowledging the collapse of that life when alcohol and drugs consumed him, while rejoicing in his strength and determination in overcoming those demons. He was racing to celebrate his new life; quite literally, going back to the streets where he used to beg, and where death constantly lurked. 

To start off with, the 61-degree water made Perkins’ legs cramp during the swim. “I quickly went from failure is not an option to failure might be my only option,” recalled Perkins. While he focused on the immediate goal of getting out of the water, he never forgot the reason he was there. “Even when I knew that I wasn’t going to have my best race, focusing on my ultimate reason for racing kept me going,” he said.

After several minutes in the T1 warming tent, Perkins layered up and headed out on the bike, with no idea of the conditions awaiting him on the 112-mile course. Fortunately, Perkins is no stranger to adverse weather conditions on the open roads; panhandling and hitchhiking took him to multiple states over the course of three years. “At one point, my only possession was a blanket,” he remembered. “I was the dirty guy holding the cardboard sign. I was the guy who did the same thing over and over expecting a different result. I woke up somewhere different each day with the same goal: to panhandle enough change to buy the next drink.”

Crosswinds, rain spells, and even occasional pelts of hail may have dampened Perkins’ pace a bit on the bike, but his spirit never failed. The weather was unfavorable at best, but he knew it could be worse. He recalled a time during his period of homelessness when he lost his shoes. “It was a 115-degree Phoenix summer day and I had no shoes on my feet,” he remembers. “I was actually more concerned about getting money for beer than I was about getting shoes for my burning feet.”

How does a person get to this point? For Perkins, it was a gradual descent followed by a steep free-fall. In the late 90′s, he and his wife, newly married, settled in the Phoenix area to begin their life together. Like many couples, they would end their days with a drink or two to unwind and relax. Unfortunately for Perkins, that habit reached the point where it started affecting his job and marriage. Eventually, his wife left him, he quit his job, and in just two short months he’d lost everything. “At first, I felt a huge sense of relief because I had absolutely no responsibilities,” he recalls. “But then I was in the hospital so many times that it got to the point where I would rotate which one I would go to so they wouldn’t recognize me.”

Though his Arizona bike was slower than he anticipated, he finished it more than ready for the 26.2-mile run ahead. During the race, he looked up to the sky a few times to laugh at the curve balls being thrown in his direction. Nothing, however, was going to deter him from crossing the finish line before midnight. Fortunately he never hit rock-bottom during this Ironman race; unfortunately, he knows exactly what that feels like.

For him, it happened on May 17, 2003.

“I had a severe drug-induced, near-death experience,” Perkins recalled. “I don’t know where I went or why I came back. All I know is that when I woke up, I felt an overwhelming sense of what I would call God. I felt peace, love, and a real desire to change,” he said. “My purpose in life now is to show others that you can change your life and achieve absolutely anything. I don’t know why God chose me and not someone else, but I hope my story encourages people who feel hopeless,” Perkins said.

Similarly to the family, friends, and volunteers who make finishing an Ironman possible for many athletes, Perkins’ journey to sobriety is paved with ‘angels’ who appeared when he needed them most. He shared the goosebump-inducing story of a stranger who picked him up on a cold night at a Wyoming truck stop and drove him to Texas, where Perkins eventually started his new life. After starting a new job in Austin, a co-worker encouraged him to go for a run. This former two-pack-a-day smoker laughed at the notion, but did it anyways—and enjoyed it enough to start training for a marathon with the Austin Fit Marathon Training Program. He completed the marathon and went on to become a coach and trail leader. The running bug eventually led to the triathlon bug, and Perkins hasn’t looked back since.

“When I first heard about Ironman triathlons, I knew I wanted to someday race in Tempe on the streets where I once lived. I wanted to come full circle. I now have great friends and a sound body that carried me through.” On November 21 of this year, Michael Perkins finished his Ironman—an awesome achievement that he credits to things most people take for granted. “I have insurance. I have a job. I have a car. I’m going to school. I now have shoes,” he said.

Two pairs of shoes, in fact, one for cycling and one for running—shoes that helped carry him from broken man to Ironman and define the true meaning of our sport.

Perkins still has the blanket that was at one time his only possession hanging on his wall at home.

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Carrie Barrett is a USAT Level 1 Certified Coach and freelance writer based in Austin, Texas. Her articles have appeared on Livestrong.com, “Runner Triathlete News”, “Inside Texas Running”, and the recent triathlon anthology, “The Meaning of Tri.” Barrett is also a member of Erin Baker’s National Triathlon Team. For more information on her coaching, speaking and writing, visit fomotraining.com.