I am an Ironman. I know this because Mike Riley said I was. I had a lot of time Saturday to reflect on why this announcement was so important to me. I had more time to think about it than I had hoped, but for some reason, finishing became an extraordinary goal that matter so much to me on that one day.

Ironman is Extraodinary. Maybe it's because of the incredible race organizers that think of the smallest details. It could be because of the spectators, the awesome volunteers, or the family and friends that cheer. It is extraordinary that people that survive cold, heat, wind, rain, cramps,
dehydration, and miles and miles. Sometimes they survive illness, injuries and accidents on that one day just to be declared an Ironman.

But the reason we endure the difficulties on that day is a culmination of ordinary events we endured for months. Becoming an Ironman is mostly about the commitment to get up at 5:00 for swim workouts in the dark and snow. It is about convincing yourself that sleeping in for a 6:00 run on Saturday morning will matter. Ironman is the everyday commitment to bike when you're sore, tired, or hungry. It is riding your bike on the Computrainer for 6 hours because the roads are too icy to go outside. It is wet shoes from running in the snow. It is icing your legs after mile repeats. It is crashing on your bike, stitches and shin splints. It is friends that meet you on windy days so you won't have to run alone. It affects not only where and when you take a vacation, but what you do when you get there. (I always travel with my wet suit in case I can get in an open-water workout).

Ironman is a commitment that affects when you sleep and what you eat. It plays into what extra-curricular activities you do and when. It affects your Friday nights with your "significant other". When training for Ironman, you wonder what it would feel like to sleep in like the rest of the world, when you start out on a long run on the lonely, dark roads. Ironman is about the people in your life that creep around the house because once again you feel asleep spontaneously while watching a movie.

Ironman is an extraordinary accomplishment. But it is small, little, seemingly insignificant choices throughout every day, month after month, that makes it incredible.

The videos don't show it. The movies don't explain it. But we Ironman know, as we laugh, cry, jump, or collapse across the finish line, that we are an Ironman because of small, ordinary choices we made, long before that extraordinary day began.

Thank you, to my family and friends. You made it possible.