I Freaking Crushed It

In memory of Peter Weiler, 1963 to 2026

His voice was strained, his body weak, but when he turned to me, his eyes were smiling, and he said it.

“I freaking crushed it.”

Eighty five days before he died, he was in Sedona with his wife, hiking and mountain biking, enjoying the kind of active and adventurous weekend they loved.

He had no idea that an aggressive cancer was already growing inside him.

The pain started the very next day. The diagnosis followed not long after.

There is no avoiding how tragic this is.

To pretend otherwise would dishonor all the joy and impact he would have continued to bring into the world.

He grieved that he would miss his children’s weddings and the grandkids he would have adored.

He would not be there to walk beside them as they would face their future challenges and opportunities, but he was confident they would continue to thrive.

He was so proud of each of them.

His deepest heartbreak was that he would not grow old with the wife he loved so deeply, or be there to care for her the way he had always wanted to.

And yet he accepted all of it, the same way he had faced every hard thing that came before it.

Courageously. On his own terms.

Pete personified love, generosity, power, courage, and curiosity. Those values shaped the man who turned an early wound into an entire life of purpose, joy, and impact.

Pete lost his mother when he was just nine months old, before he ever had the chance to know her.

That loss did not leave him untouched. It cost him real pain along the way, the kind that does not resolve on its own.

But he refused to let it define him.

His commitment was to face life head on and bring his best to the world anyway.

He turned that early wound into a deeper capacity for love rather than a smaller one, and he spent the rest of his life building that love on purpose: a family, a business, a friend group full of people he loved and who loved him back in equal measure.

As a business owner, he served his clients and rewarded the people on his team and celebrated their ability to build their own financial futures the same way he had built his.

He was just as generous with his time and what he owned. The family owns a beautiful cabin in North Carolina, which they have shared with more people than most of us could name.

Pete was a force of nature. You felt his presence always.

He was an accomplished endurance athlete, competing in many races including the Boston Marathon, which he completed in under three hours.

He built family, friendships, community, and business, and he finished what he started.

It earned him the nickname the Badger, because he simply did not stop creating whatever he was after until it was done.

He was a lifelong student of how to live authentically and connect deeply.

He held his own beliefs loosely enough to keep learning new perspectives, and then he shared what he learned gently, as an invitation rather than a lecture.

He poured into his marriage every day, choosing to be a better partner rather than a finished one.

He saw the specific genius in each of his three kids and encouraged and supported them in becoming exactly who they were built to be as they forged incredible bonds together.

I will remember him as my best friend.

I imagine a great many other people feel exactly the same way, because when you were with Pete, it felt like you were the most important person in the world to him.

None of us knows how long we get. What actually matters is how we use the time we are given.

Pete tragically left us far sooner than any of us wanted.

And yet that tragedy will not diminish the truth he shared when he looked at me with a smile in his eyes and said it.

When the music stopped, Pete had already told us everything we needed to know.

He absolutely freaking crushed it.

Take a moment to reflect on what it truly means to live your life on purpose. Consider what enhancements you might want to make, so that you can live in a way that you’ll feel confident you crushed it as well.