The Council Builder
Assemble a council of AI seats from hundreds of frameworks and put your question to it. Every seat argues its discipline; the council answers.
Thirty-one years in the water. Twenty-eight on the road. Year one on the bike. Chasing my first triathlon — and looking for the brands who want to come along.


I got in the pool at three and started running and playing hockey at six — and never really stopped. Twenty-four-plus years of running, three decades of swimming, and a hockey career that ran from AAA as a kid to the club team at Iowa built a base — and a set of legs — most people spend a lifetime chasing.
I've also been hurt since I was fifteen. The engine was never the problem; the body has been the project. A shoulder kept me off the bike for eighteen years until I had it repaired in summer 2024 and finally got back on — then a torn hip labrum went under the knife in February 2026. Every surgery, I rebuilt, and the lateral, explosive power from a life of hockey kept translating straight into watts.
So now, months out from hip surgery, I'm all in on one goal: my first triathlon. Off the course I'm the founder of Dump Days Ride Club, Warmup Running, SideRep and Lund Studio — I build fitness brands, communities and stories for a living. This isn't just a training log. It's a comeback, and I'm looking for the partners who want to help me tell it.
All in.
Hurt since 15.
The pool came first. I started swimming at three — before I could really run, before a hockey stick, before anything. Three decades later it's still the most familiar place I train, and the one leg of the three I've never had to learn from scratch.
It's where the whole endurance story began, and it's the leg I worry about least. For Boulder, the work isn't fitness — it's turning pool yards into open-water rhythm: sighting, contact, and pacing across 1.2 miles in my strongest discipline.





Eighteen years off the bike, and back on it at thirty-four. The shock wasn't the fitness — it was how fast it came. A life of hockey built lateral, explosive power, and it's translating straight into watts.
It's the newest leg and the most fun I've had training in years — no streak to protect, no decades of history. Just a rediscovered love of going fast on two wheels, and the leg with the most room left to grow.










Running started at six and never stopped. Twenty-four-plus years without missing a day — not a training plan, a daily rite. It's the discipline the whole comeback is built on.
It's the leg I trust most, and the reason I started a club: Let's Go Run Club at Standley Lake, every Saturday. The road is where the grove keeps its rhythm.







One athlete, told through the three ages each sport entered my life. Each one stacked on the last — and now they meet at one start line.
My first sport and my oldest habit. Three decades of pool time means the water is the leg I worry about least — it's where the whole endurance story began.
The discipline that defines me. Running nearly every day for over two decades, and now the founder of a run club that meets at Standley Lake every Saturday.
A shoulder injury kept me off the bike for eighteen years — until surgery let me ride again. Now I'm all in on a new aero race bike and an all-day e-road, and a life of hockey is making the power come fast.
The 70.3 is the perfect test for where I am: a 1.2-mile swim in my strongest sport, a 56-mile bike in my newest one, and a 13.1-mile run to finish on the legs I trust most.
Boulder is home turf — racing at altitude, in my own backyard, in front of my own community. The whole build, from first ride to finish line, is the story I'm documenting and sharing.
Follow the training, the setbacks, the swim-bike-run lessons, and race day itself through the journal and newsletter. This is a season-long story — and the best seat is right here.
Follow the journey ↗Training notes, build updates, and honest check-ins on the road to Boulder — written as it happens, newest first.
Already living in these brands by choice. Looking for the ones who want to make it official.

Carter Luense descends from the line of Lundr, and everything here is drawn by the rule that shapes the grove itself: φ = 1.618, the Divinity Rule. Three sports, three decades, one bloodline — grown, not built.
Lundr — Old Norse for the sacred grove. The line runs from Niall of the Nine Hostages to here, and every proportion in this spiral is set by φ = 1.618, the Divinity Rule. The studio I build everything with.
Enter Lund Studio ↗Every athlete is a node looking for the right connection. SideRep matches people by how they actually train — across 50 sports — then builds the kit they race in. Find your people. Build your rep.
Enter SideRep ↗Off the course, Lund Studio is an AI house: councils that deliberate, rankers that score out of 100, a programming language written in runes. Everything on this page — the proportions, the type floor, the grove — was directed by me, built with Claude, and measured before it shipped.
Assemble a council of AI seats from hundreds of frameworks and put your question to it. Every seat argues its discipline; the council answers.
The skill ranker. Every Claude skill and open Agent Skill scored out of 100 on the Skill Scale, with the reasoning printed under the seal.
Who actually builds with AI. The practitioners board, ranked on the public record — and yes, I put myself on it.
One door, many models. Ask once; the model that should answer, answers.
A programming language written in Elder Futhark, with its own compiler. Ancient script, modern machine.
AI skills, sold as cards. Makers forge and sell them beside the house shelf, and every card says exactly what is on the tin.
A real comeback with a real audience — and a founder who knows exactly how to tell it.
Back on the bike after an 18-year injury layoff, chasing a first triathlon at thirty-four on a lifetime of miles. Relatable, aspirational, authentic — the story your customers see themselves in.
Founder of Dump Days Ride Club, Warmup Running and SideRep — communities and content engines already in motion. Your brand doesn't just get a sponsorship; it gets a storyteller.
Every ride, swim, setback and finish from now to IRONMAN 70.3 Boulder, documented and shared. One athlete, one arc, one place your brand shows up all the way to the line.
Off the course, I build the communities I'd want to train with.
A grassroots ride club and race team out of the Wednesday ride in Westminster. Riders and crew both welcome — no-drop, no ego, all in. Hump day's for camels. We dump it.
We're slow. We're loud. One rider out front, big feed in the back — somebody carry twenty. Three years in, it's still the same plate and the same promise: nobody rides home alone, and the last wheel sets the pace.
Wednesday isn't a hump to get over. It's a week to dump — the watts, the half-wheelers, the excuses. The camel stays home. We go outside and ride.
Before you talk yourself out of it — here's the whole thing. There's nothing to qualify for. You roll out with us once and you're in.
You pedal. Whatever your distance, the group flexes to it — we run the route so no one gets dropped. Come for one Wednesday, stay for the season.
No-drop, always · free to rideYou don't have to ride to be on the team. Carry the feed, run the SAG, shoot the photos, hold the corner. The crew is the reason the ride keeps happening.
Everyone's on the team · all inTrek and Specialized in one honest comparison — geometry over hype. We're not a brand, we're the club, so we'll point you at the right frame even when it isn't the pricey one. No commission, ever.
The right bike is a geometry question, not a paint question. We match how you ride, then talk specs.
The one place that'll recommend a rival without flinching — an honest match across both.
Nobody here gets paid to push you up a tier. Roll through on a Wednesday and get a real fitting, free.
Punch in height and inseam for a starting frame size — the fine dialling we do in person. Free fittings happen on the Wednesday ride.
Two measurements get you most of the way; the rest is saddle height, reach, and how you actually sit on the bike. The full Garage adds an AI photo-read for a first look — but the real fitting is free, in person, on a Wednesday.
Bikes aren't products, they're partners — and a partner needs a name. Pick a vibe, pull the lever, and christen the thing that's going to drop you on every climb. It's not weird. It's tradition.
Bikes, apparel, nutrition, recovery — if you make something a rider needs, there's a spot for you on the team. How deep you ride is up to you.
Your mark on the sleeve and socks — out on every Wednesday road, in every group photo.
Spots open · apparel + nutritionYour brand on the team panel and in the feed — the riders who keep showing up, wearing you.
Spots open · a season of reachTitle spot. Your name on the plate the team races under. Three years deep and counting.
One open · title sponsorNo form, no fee, no fitness test. Send a note and you'll get the week's roll-out details — or just find the Wednesday ride and roll.
The endurance system for the cold start — technical layers, a real-life crew, and a brand built on the run. Composed on a single ratio. The finish is where it ends; this is where it begins.
We meet Tuesdays. Rain is on the schedule. The W is the crown and Westminster is home base. Run with people, in what we run in — built on the run, not in a boardroom.
Own your throne. The throne is the couch. Post-run. Earned.
Two standing runs a week. No pace requirement, no sign-up wall — the kind of group you'd actually want to train with.
Running, biking, swimming, lifting, recovery, sleep, and fuel — seven disciplines, one system, every cut composed on a single ratio. Running is the base; everything here builds on it.
Show up Saturday at Standley Lake, or send a note and we'll get you the week's runs. Every block gets a crown.