Written by journalist Moira McCarthy, a dedicated Breakthrough T1D supporter, advocate, and volunteer.
It’s a sunny midmorning at the Travelers Championship in Cromwell, Connecticut, and J.J. Spaun and I—a golf columnist by trade—have a lot to talk about.
But first, the ritual that takes place every time we spot a “T1D in the wild.” Knowing our shared background—me, a type 1 diabetes (T1D)-mom 29 years into my daughter’s life with this and he, a person with diabetes (PWD) still in his first decade of T1D life—we hug, exchange knowing nods and of course, look at our phone graphs.
J.J. Spaun may just be one of the greatest golfers in the world; his clutch win at Oakmont in the harrowing 2025 U.S. Open raised him to a high level. His follow-up win at Valero this year sealed the deal. But first and foremost, he is one of the tribe: a mere mortal working to fit T1D around his day-to-day life.
Like most of us, he’s had ups, downs, frights, and frustrations. Because diabetes doesn’t discriminate—be you a world champion superstar, the kid just down the road or the full-time cashier at the local five and dime, J.J. Spaun has weathered a lot.
Mentally resilient and tougher
But on this early round day of this popular tournament—one he’d like to win—Spaun tells me that while his T1D diagnosis story is a gritty one, his view of life with the disease is not.
“Diabetes has made me mentally resilient; tougher,” he told me. “It’s easy to look in the face of a tough shot, or the layout of those last holes and think: ‘I’ve done tougher things than this.’ Diabetes gave me that view.”
I get that, I tell him: My own daughter is one of the toughest people I know.
Like her, Spaun isn’t Pollyanna. Because while he chooses to live well despite T1D, he’s had his bumps and he’s open about them.
An unexpected hazard
It all started with a misdiagnosis, one that spanned three years of his life, robbing him of body weight, muscle mass, self-confidence, and health.
In 2018, after a few months of sudden and jarring weight loss and an inability to find energy of focus, he saw his doctor and was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. Like the athlete he is, he threw himself into his care, tweaking his diet and working on gaining strength. For a few months, it seemed to be working. But then he began a slide that left him 25 additional pounds thinner (weight loss he did not need) and so far from being able to stroke a ball with confidence and strength that he dropped from his prior highest ranking of 56 in the world (he was on his way up quickly) to 584.
He was eating barely any carbs at all and topping his daily calorie count at 1,200, yet his condition failed to improve.
He started to think type 2 diabetes might bring the end of his journey toward golf greatness.
“It was pretty tough,” he remembered. “I was definitely upset. Right when I started to establish myself, and I get this thrown at me.”
Type 1, not type 2
As is often the case, diabetes folks in the wild came to the rescue. First, a friend who is a physician pulled him aside and told him to get to an endocrinologist right away (he was being treated by a primary care physician).
“So I go to the endocrinologist and they do a whole bunch of tests,” he said. “Then he comes in and he says I hate to break bad news but …. You have type 1 diabetes, not type 2.
“I said ‘This is great news!’ After all, now I had my answer.” He needed insulin replacement therapy and a smart way to track his blood sugars. Armed with that knowledge and the guidance of his new endo, he began his long trek back up.
(“You know that misdiagnosis could have killed you,” I commented. His eyes grew wide at hearing someone say aloud what he long realized. “I do. I really do,” he said.)
He had much work to do though: that misdiagnosis had stripped him of weight and muscle; the new body mass he had didn’t fit with the swing physics he’d honed in the lead up to those years.
That’s when a T1D-dad named Andy Bessette, who also happened to be Executive Vice President and Chief Administrative Officer for Travelers, got word of the new (and correct) diagnosis and did what the diabetes community always does: connected, empathized, and then offered support.
“I heard he won the hole 15 ½ challenge and he donated his $10,000 to (what was then) JDRF, and I said holy sh**, why?” he said. “He was in his transition phase (From type 2 misdiagnosis to type 1 care), I matched the donation.”
A special connection
He also sought Spaun out and told him about their special connection: Bessette’s son Chris has T1D.
“I told him, let’s get you connected with Aaron Kowalski, Breakthrough T1D CEO, and get you some doctors names and all you need,” he said.
Armed with more information thanks to Bessette, Spaun forged ahead. By January 2021, he felt things shift toward the positive.
“(With insulin therapy) I was able to have carbs and produce energy so much more. My second event of that year I noticed that not only was I not running out of energy, I had enough energy to once again go to the practice range post round,” he said.
To play well, he learned, it was vital he be in range as he slept overnight, “I feel pretty poorly if I do not,” he said. He tailors pre-match dinners toward that effort.
Managing T1D on and off the course
On course, he keeps a close look at the CGM graph on his phone that the PGA made an exception for him to carry. He still treats with injections (but is pondering semi-automated insulin delivery devices) and swears by peanut butter on wheat bread for long lasting energy and Gatorade for quick acting glucose.
He eats a full meal each pre-round and chooses what to eat based on where his blood sugars have been in recent hours. Overall, he said, it’s working.
The proof is in the record. Spaun went on to win the Valero in 2022, that wildly difficult U.S. Open in 2025 and so far, this year, Valero again. His ranking is back up near 12 and he’s feeling his game is in place.
And in a funny way, he says, golf may have prepared him for life with T1D and vice-versa.
“Golf is such a finicky game, the same as diabetes,” he said. “You work so hard to try and control what is coming at you and then things happen. You have to just power forward and adjust. It’s very much the same in that way.”
A hero who’s one of us
Besette watches him closely—as both a golf enthusiast and a T1D-dad.
“He means a lot to me. And what he has to deal with? It’s hard enough to hit the balls and know the course and all that—he has all the diabetes obstacles as well. I’m so impressed by him.”
When Spaun won the U.S. Open, Besette’s first text to him will make sense to the T1D world.
“I asked him: ‘Were your levels okay?’” he laughed.
T1D—and Bessette’s friendship—also brought him another gift, via connecting him to Breakthrough T1D and the diabetes community as a whole.
“I’ve gotten so many messages from kids, adults, and parents in this community,” he said. “They label me as a hero. Parents tell me that seeing me achieve shows their child that even with diabetes, everything is possible.
“There’s always more to golf, and I think that’s my calling,” he said. We hugged tight, our bond formed for life. And as he walked away to play another round, over his shoulder he smiled and said, “Tell your daughter I’m rooting for her.”
J.J. Spaun is one of us.
