Two Rounds in Miami: Golf as a Reset
Sometimes you don’t realize how much you need something until you’re standing in it. Two rounds in Miami turned out to be the medicine I needed.
Crandon Golf at Key Biscayne. the round that started the reset
I found myself in Miami during one of the hardest stretches of my life. Processing the passing of my father. Trying to figure out how to get back to normal when nothing feels normal anymore. When every day feels like you’re moving through thick air, when the simplest decisions suddenly feel impossible.
Two rounds. Two completely different experiences. Two steps back toward myself.
Crandon: Wind, Beauty, and Walking Back to Life
Crandon Golf at Key Biscayne isn’t just a golf course. it’s a place that forces you to be present. When 25-mph winds are pushing your ball around like a leaf and you’re restricted to cart paths only, you can’t think about anything except the shot in front of you.
Miami Springs. the same fairways Arnie, Snead, and Nelson walked
I shot 94. On most days, that would frustrate me. But that day, it felt like a gift.
The emotional highlight wasn’t the golf. it was the walk. Holes 17 and 18 at twilight, the sun setting over Biscayne Bay, the Miami skyline glowing in the distance. No cart allowed on those final holes anyway, so I walked. Just me, my thoughts, and the sound of my feet on the path.
That walk did something for me that no amount of sitting in rooms talking about feelings could do. It reminded me that I’m still here. Still moving. Still capable of being amazed by something as simple as light hitting water.
Golf forces you outside. Literally and figuratively.
Miami Springs: History, Strangers, and the Power of Showing Up
Later that week, I found myself at Miami Springs Golf & Country Club, a place where Arnold Palmer turned professional, where Sam Snead and Gene Sarazen once walked these fairways. Historic in the way that only certain golf courses can be. not flashy, just quietly important.
I was paired with strangers. In most contexts, this would be my nightmare. Golf has this special social magic. You don’t have to know each other to enjoy the day. I was laughing with a guy who introduced himself as “Fireball” not by name but because he threw down 3 on the first three holes.
I shot 89. Five strokes better than Crandon, but more importantly, I felt five degrees more human.
There’s research showing that golf can be genuine therapy for depression and anxiety. Being outside, physical activity, social connection. all the things that matter when your brain is telling you nothing matters. But you don’t need studies to tell you what you can feel in your bones.
The Arc: More Than Scores
94 to 89 tells a story, but not the one you might think.
It’s not about swing improvements or course management (though both happened). It’s about what happens when you give yourself permission to do something you love when everything else feels broken. When you stop apologizing for taking time for yourself and start understanding that sometimes taking care of yourself IS taking care of everything else.
Golf is weird therapy. You spend four hours failing repeatedly, getting frustrated, occasionally doing something beautiful, and somehow walking off the course feeling better than when you started. It’s the only activity I know where you can shoot your worst score in months and still call it a good day.
The sun helps. Being outside helps. Moving your body helps. But there’s something else. golf’s specific combination of focus and flow, challenge and acceptance, individual effort within a shared space.
Building Toward Something
I’m heading into my Pittsburgh golf season with a different perspective. The 5 by 50 journey continues, but those Miami rounds reminded me why it matters. It’s not really about getting to a 5 handicap before I turn 50. It’s about having something that pulls you outside, that challenges you, that connects you to other people and to yourself.
Golf saved me in Miami. Not dramatically, not completely, but honestly. It gave me two four-hour windows where I had to be present. Where I couldn’t think about loss or logistics or what comes next. Where I had to focus on something as simple and complicated as hitting a small white ball toward a flag.
I walked off that 18th green at Miami Springs feeling something I hadn’t felt in weeks: like myself again. Not fixed, not healed, but… reset. Ready to keep going.
The Reminder
When life gets hard. and it will. remember that sometimes the answer isn’t to push through or think harder or work more. Sometimes the answer is to go outside and do something you love with people you may or may not know yet.
Golf taught me that healing isn’t always about looking inward. Sometimes it’s about looking down a fairway, taking a breath, and swinging anyway. Sometimes it’s about trusting that the next shot will be better, that tomorrow will be different, that you’re stronger than you think.
Sometimes you don’t know how much you need something until you’re standing in it. For me, standing in it was standing over a golf ball in Miami, remembering who I am when I’m not thinking about anything else.
The scores were 94 and 89. The real number was two. two days when golf reminded me that I’m still here, still trying, still capable of finding beauty in the attempt.
Looking to explore how golf can be part of your own reset? Check out the resources and community at learn.golferhd.com. Sometimes the best way forward is the simplest: outside, focused, one shot at a time.