In the hallways of Sylvan Hills High, David Helms was just another kid trying to make it through P.E. first period and dreaming of cafeteria cheese fries. Thirty years later, that same student–now grayer, stronger, and rebuilt in more ways than one–is crossing Ironman finish lines across the world.
Helms, class of ‘95, is an Ironman triathlete, husband, father, and student once again at the University of Little Rock. But his story isn’t about trophies. It’s about survival–after a car crash nearly ended everything.
A crash, a comeback, and a calling
In November 2011, a truck crossed the centerline and hit Helms head-on. “I was living in Pensacola,” he recalls. “I woke up in Arkansas.” He suffered a brain injury and a nearly destroyed right knee. “Eight months of physical therapy,” he says. “I hated running. I only started to see if I could with a rebuilt knee.”
A neighbor encouraged him to try biking, another invited him to swim–and before long, he was doing all three. In 2013, he watched the Ironman World Championships on TV and thought, That’s crazy. By that afternoon, he’d registered for a marathon.
After completing it, he signed up for a half Ironman, then a full. His first full Ironman in 2016 was fueled by determination and a difficult divorce. Since then, he’s finished nine full Ironmans and multiple halves. This November, he’ll compete in Ironman Arizona–alongside his wife, Heather.
The power of two
David and Heather met while training. “We were stuck next to each other on a bike ride,” Heather recalls. Both had come out of painful divorces. “I asked him about Ironman Louisville, and we just never stopped talking.”
Today they train under a coach from Austin, Texas, who makes them follow heart-rate zones and distance goals that shape their days. Their differences balance them: Heather is meticulous and driven; David is relaxed and funny. “He’s faster than me,” she admits. “But in full Ironmans, I usually catch him on the run.”
Their weekends are a cycle of endurance–five to six hours of training Saturday, long runs and swims Sunday, then grocery shopping and recovery. “That’s our version of weekend balance,” David says.
Triathlon training consumes them both. David eats nearly 5,000 calories a day to keep up. “Before all this, I had hit 249 pounds,” he says. “After the wreck, I promised I wouldn’t go back there.”
Heather nods. “This sport teaches humility. You want to reach personal goals, but training with someone you love forces you to think beyond yourself.”
They’ve raced in Switzerland, Ireland, and New Zealand–using triathlons as excuses to travel. In Switzerland, Heather insisted on hiking the “Land of 72 Waterfalls.” David laughs, remembering the descent: “I was holding the rail, walking backwards, saying ‘This is so stupid.’”
Neither regrets a step. “It’s what we do together,” Heather says. “It keeps us moving forward.”
Lessons from the hard miles
David’s learned that endurance sometimes means knowing when to stop. “At one Ironman, I collapsed after the bike leg,” he says. “I woke up in a medical tent. I was in 18th place at the time. They told me, ‘You’re not going anywhere.’”
He chuckles. “Your first goal isn’t time or place–it’s to finish.”
He’s come off the bike in second place before, but admits running is his weak spot. “I’ll crush the swim and bike, then watch as all the young guys pass me during the run.”
Still, David says, it’s incredible what his body has been able to adapt to.
More than miles
Off the racecourse, David’s life continues to evolve. He’s finishing the degree he left unfinished in 1998. “Not finishing always ate at me,” he says, adjusting his gray and blue Brad Hendricks Law Firm cap. “I’d like to enter law school next.”
Family remains at the heart of it all. His son, Andrew, recently married. “It was one of the most fun days of my life,” David says. “Dancing with Heather and my daughter, Karsyn–it was just pure joy.”
Karsyn, who graduates from the University of Missouri this December, says her dad’s constant curiosity is what defines him. “He’s always learning, always growing,” she says. “I think that’s something he passed down to me and my brother.”
The mind game
Triathlon, David says, is as mental as it is physical. “Sometimes I’ll start walking mid-run for no reason,” he admits. “You’re exhausted, and your brain tells you to stop.”
Lately, he’s focused on the mental battle–on choosing to keep moving. His next big goal: qualifying for the Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii, in 2026. “Heather’s competed there,” he says. “We’d love to race it together.”
The heart behind the helmet
For all the miles and medals, David’s story is about rediscovery–a man who once thought running was impossible, who rebuilt himself from wreckage, and who now spends his life proving the opposite.
Friend and training partner Jayme Butts Hall puts it best: “David’s an amazing athlete who, despite being at the upper echelon of triathletes, always gives a thumbs up as he passes you. He laughs when things go sideways and supports his wife in sport and in life.”
David still doesn’t see himself as competitive. “Yesterday, I rode 100 miles and then ran four,” shaking his head. “That’s stupid.”
Maybe not. Maybe it’s just another lap in a life built on endurance–and a reminder of that kid in P.E. class, sweaty and smiling, saving up for cheese fries.
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