From Swimmer to Triathlete: A Journey Rooted in Passion and Purpose By Sam LaRiviere, PT, DPT

For as long as I can remember, swimming has been at the core of who I am. I thrived in the structure, camaraderie, and challenges of the sport. Growing up in Maine, I swam competitively for the Sanford YMCA Titans and Massabesic High School, earning Academic All-American honors and serving as the Maine Athlete Representative to Maine Swimming LSC. I was also part of numerous record-breaking relay teams—experiences that helped shape both my character and competitive spirit.

More importantly, it introduced me to the value of community: teammates who pushed me, coaches who believed in me, and mentors who inspired me. But like many athletes, my path included setbacks—in my case, repeated injuries that introduced me to the world of physical therapy. One session in particular changed everything: a sports medicine doctor suggested Springfield College not just for PT school, but as a place to swim and learn. That advice set the course for my career.

That passion for athlete development has also led me to work at the highest levels in the swimming world. As a member of the USA Swimming High-Performance Rehabilitation Network, I provide coverage for national and international meets for the U.S. National Team, ensuring athletes have the care and support they need to perform at their best. I completed a rotation at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, where I worked with the U.S. Para Swimming and Paratriathlon teams during their training camps— an experience that reinforced the importance of blending expertise with empathy. This helped deepen my commitment to supporting swimmers in Maine. I’ve had the privilege of working with athletes across the state, focusing on injury prevention, dry land training, swim stroke analysis, and personalized coaching to help them stay strong, healthy, and competitive.

Triathlons felt like a natural evolution of my athletic identity. With a strong background in swimming, the challenge of integrating cycling and running was both humbling and energizing. What drew me in wasn’t just the competition—it was the opportunity to connect my passion for sport with a deeper purpose: helping others. Just as physical therapy allowed me to support athletes through injury and recovery, triathlons gave me a platform to coach, educate, and empower athletes across all disciplines.

That passion extends into my work today, where I aim to be a resource for all things endurance—whether it’s coaching, injury prevention, performance optimization, or specialized services like bike fitting. I love being a one-stop shop for athletes who are striving toward their goals, no matter where they are in their journey. Participating in Tri Maine events has been a full-circle experience. These races are more than just competitions—they’re a celebration of Maine’s endurance community. Whether I’m racing or cheering from the sidelines, I’m constantly inspired by the grit, determination, and joy that athletes bring. It’s not about who finishes first—it’s about showing up, giving your all, and growing through the process. It’s also about connection—bringing together pockets of triathletes from across the state and building something bigger than ourselves.

As a triathlete, I’ve learned to embrace the grind and celebrate the small wins: a smoother transition, a stronger brick workout, a more focused mindset on race day. But more than that, triathlon has taught me that success isn’t just measured in splits and finish times— it’s found in the community that lifts you up, keeps you accountable, and celebrates your journey every step of the way.

Maine is the perfect backdrop for triathlon. Its rugged coastlines, crystal-clear lakes, forest trails, and charming small towns create a training environment that’s as inspiring as it is challenging. But what truly sets it apart is the people. Maine’s tight-knit communities rally around athletes with unmatched encouragement and authenticity. It’s a place where seasoned racers, curious newcomers, and everyone in between can train, recover, learn, and grow—together. Here, surrounded by community and the beauty of the outdoors, endurance sports truly reflect Maine “the way life should be.”

Sam is shown competing in the annual Polar Bear Triathlon.

When I first started playing soccer, I was three years old. I started playing because my sister, Mia, who was two years older than me, was also playing soccer in the Kennebunkport Youth Soccer program. It certainly made trips to the field a family experience, especially as the son of parents who both played college soccer at the University of Southern Maine. We are a soccer family. I credit both of my parents not only for the athletic genes, but for their support throughout the early years and obviously still today. 

As I look back, I continue to appreciate the support from my family more and more as I get older; or maybe the appreciation has grown as the home games get further away. In college, my parents and family would try to make the trip to Burlington as much as possible. Many families of college athletes will tell you, it takes a village, and that is so true.

Whether it was trips to practice, traveling to out of state tournaments or sharing their support, my family has been my rock. I can remember making some pretty important decisions about my soccer career as a teenager, and their support and guidance didn’t go unnoticed. Since I have an older sister and younger brothers, my parents juggled schedules a lot. I also think they also passed the competitive genes down to my sister and my brothers because we always pushed each other; I have always been grateful for that.

Ultimately, my decision to play soccer at the University of Vermont allowed me to stay in New England and be part of a college with a really strong soccer program. When I was being recruited by several schools, I remember the Vermont coaches sharing their vision to compete, and one day win a national championship. During my time in Vermont, our team tasted success on the national stage, including my junior and senior year. I felt like we were so close to breaking through and that is one of the main reasons I decided to return for my fifth year; we had unfinished business. 

The season got off to a tough start with just one win in our first four games. We were hit by adversity with several injuries and we made adjustments to our line-up, including my transition from striker to defense. I remember when my coach Rob Dow asked if I was willing to move back to the back line. I don’t know if we both knew how well it would work out, but I am glad I did. After all, if we were going to turn our season around it was going to take a village. Sure enough, we went on a run and had a 9-game unbeaten streak. 

In the NCAA tournament, we faced more adversity, going in unranked and facing many of the top teams in the country on the road at their home field, but that’s when we really found our identity, not only as Catamounts, but as dogs. We didn’t believe we were underdogs, just dogs. It quickly became our team motto. Simply put, each player on the team was willing to outwork the opponent and do whatever it was going to take to win. 

I also know our fans were a huge part of our success. In Vermont, there isn’t a pro sports team, so at UVM we benefit from all the sports fans who want to show their support. We also had alumni and fans from across the world who were supporting us. We fed off the fans all season long, not only at home but on the road, too. I want them to know we truly appreciate them, and their support is something I will never forget.

On the field, I know our team believed we could beat anybody. After beating #2 Pittsburgh to get to the College Cup, that was huge for us. It showed us we could beat any team in the country. 

One of my most vivid memories was in the national semifinal. I remember standing in the huddle against Denver and telling the guys if we didn’t get this done now, it was going to be over. I didn’t want it to be my last game in the green. I just felt like this was our time, this was our moment. Eventually we went on to win in penalty kicks, propelling us to the National Championship game.

We talked as a team that we had a few ups and downs this year, but you know the thing is you want to catch fire at the right time. In the biggest moments our best players showed up when we needed them the most and that showed the whole tournament.

With the dog-like mentality we went on to beat Marshall, 2-1 in OT. After Maximilian Kissel scored the stadium erupted with cheering from our fans for what seemed like hours. In the blink of an eye, we became the first team from Vermont to win a National Championship; it was unreal.

Then the days after winning the national championship were crazy. We had several guys about ready to get drafted and talking with MLS teams to see where they would land. The MLS SuperDraft was just five days after the national championship game, and I was meeting with teams and taking calls about where I might land. 

I got the call at home while watching the draft that I had been selected by New York City FC. I will always remember that moment, having it all sink in. Everything happened so fast. Now I am in New York working hard to get into the line-up and prove myself at the next level. 

When I look back at my college career, and as a kid growing up in Maine, playing soccer and being noticed in sports is kind of difficult. We don’t have a lot going for us, and if we do, we’ve got to travel really far for it. But it just shows that if you’re willing to put in the hard work and the dedication, you can achieve anything.

I also think the next generation of athletes can change the perception of athletes from Maine. Just look at the past few years, with athletes like professional golfer Caleb Manuel, WNBA player, Mackenzie Holmes, and probably the first pick in the NBA draft, Cooper Flagg. I want to help young boys and girls in Maine realize that to do things that have never been done before, someone has to be first, why not you?

In many cases, athletes in Maine carry the same traits as their families, we’re hard-working, dedicated and willing to put in the work. That’s why I believe some of the best products, best people, and best athletes can be Maine made. 

We need to continue to support athletes with resources, including great coaches and modern facilities. Athletes and schools need the support from fans and businesses who contribute emotionally and financially to the success of youth, high school and our minor league sport teams.

Ultimately, I think it really takes a village. I know our village here in Maine is pretty special.

Girls on the Run Coach Spotlight:

Meet Denise Leathers-Pouliot, a school nurse who began her Girls on the Run coaching journey at Monmouth Memorial School in Spring 2023. As a school nurse and a mom to three grown daughters, Denise knows well the challenges girls in grades 3-5 face, and the power of Girls on the Run.

In her own words, “I want to help girls in grades 3-5 learn the power that lies within each of them, how to foster a sense of self, and importantly a sense of connection with other girls. GOTR is the perfect balance of social emotional learning and physical activity.” Monmouth is so lucky that Denise has passionately brought the program to the community!

Coach Denise gets Girls on the Run– everything she does embodies the GOTR spirit and mission. She encourages friendship by ensuring that her team members have opportunities to connect with everyone throughout the season, she fosters empathy through having her team stay for the whole Celebratory 5K to cheer on each team member as they finish, and anytime we’re lucky enough to see or talk with her, she expresses such joy!

When asked to do some reflecting about GOTR, Denise couldn’t speak about her experience without a shoutout to her superstar assistant coaches. Autumn Houck has been assisting from the beginning, and Katie Torrington and Robin Siderio have joined along the way. Denise said she could not offer the program without these women and that she is blessed. We are so fortunate that Denise decided to become a Girls on the Run coach! The work she puts into hosting a team each fall and her excitement and dedication to the program make a meaningful difference for the kids on her team.

Continue reading the GOTR blog below to hear more in Denise’s own words. If you’re interested in learning about more of our superstar coaches, check out our Instagram/Facebook Coach Spotlight series!

How did you become involved with GOTR? As a long time runner, I have been familiar with GOTR for at least 15 years. As a mother of three girls (now all grown), I know of the struggles that young girls face. As a school nurse, I want to help girls in grades 3-5 learn the power that lies within each of them, how to foster a sense of self and, importantly, a sense of connection with other girls. GOTR is the perfect balance of social emotional learning and physical activity.

What do you love most about GOTR? I absolutely love watching the program participants connect with each other. Our coaching team fosters connection outside of the same old safe friendship, and we encourage the connections in every lesson by mixing up groups. Watching these connections grow and seeing the girls support one another through the funny and the hard things is really heartwarming. There is power that lies within a group; and you can see that happening with every lesson.

What is your favorite GOTR lesson/activity? OR What’s a highlight from one of your seasons? At the celebratory 5k, our Monmouth Memorial School GOTR team always cheers each other on and supports our last team member as they work their way to the finish line. To me, this sums up the program and our MMS community. My favorite lessons are the very first lesson and of course Being a Friend! Additional: I could not offer the program at MMS without the other coaches, Autumn Houck has been alongside me every year, Katie Torrington joined last year and Robin Siderio joined this year. All three are educators at the school who are respected and loved by students. These women make the program personal for the girls, organized and fun.

For a downhill sport, we face uphill challenges.

I first started skiing when I was two years old because my parents had been ski instructors when they were younger. I learned how to ski at Mt. Abram in Greenwood, Maine yet I lived in Boothbay, Maine on the coast. My parents would take me skiing every weekend and when I was four years old they signed me up for group lessons.  I participated in them until I was eight and at age nine I started competing in recreational races and I was hooked! Since then I have participated in ski race training with Mt. Abram, Lost Valley Race Club and Gould Academy Competition Program. I am currently a sophomore at Gould Academy and our home mountain is Sunday River Ski Resort in Newry, Maine.

When I was 12 years old in 7th grade, my parents signed me up to compete as an Independent Racer with the Maine Junior Ski League. Because I lived in Boothbay and my school didn’t have a team it was up to my parents to drive me to races so I could compete. The first race of the season was at Kents Hill in Readfield. I was excited to be there among tons of ski racers in attendance from many different schools from all over the state.  It was a slalom race where you should have all the protective safety gear. As we were inspecting the course, I remember seeing one girl who virtually had no equipment; she had no race suit, no protective gear, no race skis, and didn’t seem to know how to ski very well at all. Throughout the season I saw her at other races and despite her lack of gear she kept showing up. This really made a huge impact on me. As I continued to attend races that winter I observed other kids who also didn’t have the necessary safety equipment. At the finals that year I ended up placing 7th in both Slalom and Giant Slalom. At that awards ceremony those same kids were there and my heart went out to them and, especially that particular girl; because of their lack of good equipment I believe they were not able to do as well.  I’m not sure if that girl is still skiing or not now as I never knew her name; but I hope she is still on the slopes. 

In 8th grade, I moved up to being a United States Ski and Snowboard skier with Gould Academy as I attended the Winter Term “On Snow Program.” I was a second year U14 racer which mandates protective safety equipment which includes: helmet with chin bar, shin and arm guards, a race suit with padding, a back protector, race boots, 2 types of poles, and 3 styles of skis for both training and racing. I also must have numerous sets of training clothes for all types of weather. Every two years depending on the condition of my equipment and the regulations from USSS for my age group I must replace it which can get very costly. 

So last year when I moved up to U16 and was a full time freshman at Gould Academy, I was talking to my parent’s one night about remembering this girl from that first race in 7th grade. I wondered how she and other kids around the state could keep moving ahead with ski racing because just the safety equipment alone can cost several thousand dollars each year. Conversations continued with my family, thinking there must be a way to help other kids afford ski racing equipment. 

At Gould Academy, we as students are encouraged to think outside the box and to set goals to not only better ourselves, but to support those around us, to give back by volunteering in the community and to make an impact that will sustain experiences for others in years to come. I am very blessed that I can attend a high school that gives us these wonderful opportunities. 

So, at the age of 14, with the help of my parents and others, as well as the Ribbon Company and Fiscal Sponsorship Allies*, I started a nonprofit called GIVE O.N.E. which stands for GIVE Opportunities through New Equipment. 

This is a program where Maine Junior Ski League ALPINE participants in 6th-8th grade can apply for a scholarship to purchase much needed skis and safety equipment to be used for their upcoming race season. This fall my goal is to raise enough funds to give at least two scholarships out. Next year with a little more momentum and funds, my goal is to raise enough money for five scholarships and by the time I’m a senior I would like to raise enough for ten scholarships.  When I enter college my hope is this nonprofit will grow to help even more kids be able to participate in this sport despite the challenges of the high cost of equipment.

To elevate this nonprofit mission I need to get my message out and connect with other people in the ski industry such as ski resorts, ski shops, Maine Junior Ski League coaches, and the athletes themselves. It may take a couple of years to meet my goals but I have the support of my parents and from Gould Academy. This is based on the idea of paying forward one’s good fortune to help someone else. This is how the ski race community keeps growing and taking care of itself right here in Maine. It is not a solution to the problem yet rather a way for me to help someone else be able to compete in Alpine ski racing…a sport that I love. By offering these scholarships, hopefully kids will realize their potential for greater opportunities in the future.  

If you would like to help me by donating to GIVE O.N.E. please go to https://app.ribbon.giving/links/1hSn0G or the GIVE Opportunities through New Equipment Facebook page for more information. If you meet the criteria as a Maine Junior Ski League athlete or you are a coach of one of these athletes please email me at giveo.n.e.program@gmail.com.

* Give O.N.E. is fiscally sponsored by Fiscal Sponsorship Allies, a 501(c)(3) public charity.

Alpine Skiing is a downhill sport, but sometimes we must face an uphill challenge to get there.

Alana LaCourse, Maine U16 Alpine Ski Racer, Gould Academy

Recently I went for a walk on the Back Cove Trail with a queer friend and my dog. As we walked, we were passed by waves of folks running a race, and I was reminded of why it’s been hard for me to be a queer person in running communities. Almost every person we passed fit the mold of a stereotypical runner: skinny, white, seemingly cisgender, dressed in spandex or short flowy shorts. When I first moved back to Maine, I tried to find my running home and found I was often the only queer or nonbinary person in each of the running groups I tried. While I had the privilege to be able to shape shift to fit in—I could pass as cisgender and could hang in most running-based conversations—that’s not how I wanted to show up. I wanted to show up and run as myself.

I spent my twenties in running communities and guiding outdoor trips for and with really lovely straight people. I joined a running group and even started running half-marathons and marathons. In 2018, I was at my speediest, skinniest, and in a committed relationship with my Garmin watch and the Strava app. But then I got injured, had to take time off of running, and I came back slower. All of a sudden, running wasn’t as fun—instead of trending faster, I was trending slower. I’d gained weight and I didn’t like the photos of me posted online by my running group. Garmin and Strava were no longer my friends.

Then the pandemic hit, and I started trail running by myself. I had tried it before, but I struggled to keep up with my speedy friends and had decided it wasn’t for me. Running alone in the woods in 2020, I finally gave myself permission to slow down, walk up hills, and run in a way that felt good. I stopped wearing my Garmin watch and began pausing to take pictures of flowers and stick my head under waterfalls. 

I’ve known I was queer for as long as I can remember, but for most of my life, I was adamant that my queerness was not a central part of my identity. But the less I tried to fit into straight spaces and the more I found spaces where I could be my full self, the more queer I realized I was. In 2019, after over a decade of guiding backcountry canoeing and backpacking trips in mainstream outdoor spaces, I started guiding outdoor trips for a queer organization. On one of those trips, I realized it was the first time I’d ever been able to fully relax and be myself as I led a trip. Playing in the woods with other queer people felt like letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. With groups of queer folks, I didn’t feel this same need to prove myself. I could let down my guard. That first summer of guiding queer folks, I realized that I had been trying to fit myself into boxes that other people had made for me, boxes that didn’t quite fit. Leaning into my queerness has meant noticing what boxes I’ve been placed into that don’t feel right, noticing the paths laid out for me that don’t fit—noticing and choosing paths that feel and fit better.

With running, what this has meant for me is realizing I don’t have to do it a certain way. It’s okay if I’m not always getting faster. It’s okay to walk up hills—and even down them! Stopping on a run to eat blackberries, take a picture of a view, or forage for mushrooms are now some of my favorite parts about running. I’ve learned that I feel most at home in my body when it’s moving, when my calves are working and my quads are flexing. I forget about mirrors, I don’t think about what I look like, I’m working on not checking my pace—I just get to become another body moving past trees and squirrels and frogs and snakes, alive and alive and alive. 

My partner Eva and I started Kindling Collective,  a queer centered outdoor gear library based in Portland, because, like the running world, the outdoor recreation world is predominantly made up of straight, cisgender communities. While people in these spaces may say they’re for everyone, you’re often only really welcome if you can show up and hang with the in-crew. And if you don’t already speak the language, know the people, have the skills? Then that space, that activity, that world, isn’t really for you. At Kindling, we wanted to create a space that centered queer people. We put queer people first when designing programming and structures that reduce barriers to the outdoors. We wanted to create opportunities for queer people to do outdoor activities they love in communities where they don’t have to twist or stretch or make themselves smaller or more palatable in order to fit in. We wanted to create spaces where queer people could try an outdoor activity for the first time in an environment that celebrates being a beginner, taking risks, and making mistakes. And we wanted to create a library of outdoor gear that anyone of any identity can use, as long as they’re on board with supporting and affirming queer folks.

I want everyone to be able to feel the way I do now when I go on slow, meandering runs with my queer friends—joyful, strong, safe, playful, and alive, alive, alive. 

MSC invites you to stop by fellow Maine Outdoor Brands member, Kindling Collective

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“Obstacles don’t have to stop you. If you run into a wall, don’t turn around and give up. Figure out how to climb it, go through it, or walk around it.”- Michael Jordan

My running career didn’t start until I was 37 years old, and I thought it was over at 43. In January of 2021, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease called Pulmonary Sarcoidosis. When I say that to most people, I generally get two responses, “What is that?”  Or, I know what that is, I watch House. Ironically, I use a line from House to describe it. You know how it’s never Lupus?” It’s a disease that most commonly causes granulomas to form in the lungs and causes general havoc with your entire body. Having a lung disease, with the possibility of cardiac involvement as well, I didn’t know if I would be able to run again, and the steroids that are part of the treatment accelerated the effects of not running. Long story short, after months of medical tests I was cleared to start running again.

In that time, I had gone into a deep depression, since running had been my therapy for the previous six years. During that period, I made a deal with the “powers that be” that if I got out of this intact, I would do something that had been a bit of a joke amongst my running friends and myself. I was going to run a marathon, and I would use that platform to illustrate to others with my disease that we don’t have to be defined by it. There are very few resources regarding Sarcoidosis, and it’s so rare that the A.D.A. (Americans with Disabilities Act) doesn’t recognize it. One symptom must be intense enough to qualify on its own, instead of the total disease. That can cause a feeling of isolation, and hopelessness. I wanted to use the platform of one of the largest races in Maine to show others with my affliction that we can still do these things, and even excel at them, despite the physical challenges presented. The Gorham Savings Bank Maine Marathon recognized what I was doing that year. The organizers arranged for WMTW to do a story about my experience as a “sarcoid warrior” trying to raise awareness and working to try and inspire others to pursue their own goals and overcome the challenges in front of them. This race was so good to me on every level possible I wanted to give back to it this year by being an ambassador and encouraging folks to sign up and run. It doesn’t matter how fast you are, if you must walk some of it, if this is a goal come accomplish it. At the very least, I’ll be there to help encourage whoever needs it. Whether it’s 26.2 or 13.1, we’re all here for each other, no matter how daunting the course.

Sue Cook first participated in the Cross for LifeFlight in 2021 and has every year since, logging miles and raising critical funds for LifeFlight of Maine. But her LifeFlight story began more than decade before that.

“I was on my way to a meeting in Boston, when I got a phone call that I needed to go to the hospital in Skowhegan where my husband was having a heart attack,” she recalled. That was 2009. “When I got to the emergency room, they said that a helicopter had been called.” Her husband, Jim, was flown by LifeFlight of Maine from Skowhegan to Bangor, where he received advanced cardiac care. Sue remembers an incredibly stressful few hours, during which Jim’s medical team suggested she call her children and tell them to come to the hospital.

That night, after Jim was flown to Northern Light Eastern Maine Medical Center in Bangor, his condition began to improve. “I’m very grateful that he got the medical attention that he needed at the time he needed it,” Sue said.

Today, 15 years later, Jim and Sue live in Portland’s West End next to Maine Medical Center. They hear LifeFlight helicopters come and go all day and night. “Every time I hear it, I know that someone is getting the best care the can,” Sue said. “My disturbed sleep is nothing compared to the medical emergency that person is experiencing.”

Participating in the Cross for LifeFlight is how Sue has chosen to help make sure LifeFlight is there for the next family like hers that is facing an acute medical emergency. She says she picks an activity that she does regularly anyway, such as walking or hiking, and sets a mileage goal that challenges her a bit.

Raising money to support her Cross for LifeFlight goal is the easy part for Sue. “I reach out to a lot of different groups that I’m involved in,” she said, “my book group, my pickleball group, my friends. I love the swag. I wear the t-shirt, and I put the temporary tattoos on. All of these things allow me to have a conversation with people and point out that they probably know someone who has had a LifeFlight experience, or they will. People are very understanding and generous. People get it.”

Sue also chooses to support LifeFlight through the Cross for LifeFlight because it allows her to increase the impact of her own donation. “I think about my $100 donation. It becomes $2,500 or $3,500 because I’m leveraging all of my contacts in addition.”

“Do you have 35 friends who might give 10 dollars?” Sue said. “Break it out. Cast a wide net. Don’t assume that someone can’t make a gift to support this effort. They’ll be impressed when they hear what you’re doing to support LifeFlight.”

Click here to learn more and sign up for the Cross for LifeFlight! 

PADDLE. Cross Casco Bay: This sunset stand-up paddleboard event on Thursday, August 1, 2024, from 6-8pm, will be led by Portland Paddle. The paddle will begin at East End Beach in Portland. (All equipment will be provided.)

HIKE. Cross Penobscot County: Join us for a group hike on Thursday, August 15, 2024, at 4PM  at Fields Pond in Holden, ME in partnership with Maine Audubon. Some hiking experience and proper footwear is strongly recommended. Hikers will have the opportunity to learn about LifeFlight’s aviation and clinical operations from those on the front lines.

BIKE. Cross York County: This group bike ride on Saturday, August 24, 2024, beginning at 9am, will be led by the Bicycle Coalition of Maine. Choose between a 10-mile or 20-mile guided route, depending on your comfort level and experience. New this year, for those interested, we will have a select number of e-bikes available to utilize for your ride!

Cross for LifeFlight participants can choose to attend any these event as part of (or all of!) their Cross. Please note, capacity is limited and it is first-come, first-served, so sign up NOW!