First off, thanks to Joe Santos for coming up with this great idea for a blog. Just over a week ago, I was lucky enough to commentate on Ironman Canada in my part-time hometown of Penticton, BC. Ironman Canada is one of the oldest triathlons in the world, and in 2012 it will celebrate its 30th anniversary. In that time, the race has grown exponentially, with over 2,800 age-group participants toeing the line in the latest running. For every participant lucky enough to cross the line on what was certainly an especially tough day with hard winds, cooler than normal temps, and a fair bit of rain, the phrase "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!" came as a welcome relief. But the question that I'm often left wondering is, "is that all that some folks were seeking?" They are Ironmen (and Ironwomen), and now they can move on to the next items on their bucket lists. And they will be replaced, at least temporarily, by other folks in the same boat. But are they an endless supply of these "one-timers?" I don't know. And I don't know if anything short of relentlessly browsing Craigslists and eBay and emailing every seller of a used bike to ask if they are getting out of the sport will tell you. But those one-timers are missing out, and the rest of us owe it to them to make sure they don't walk away without some sense of what they are missing. But in order to do that, I think we all need to think hard about what this sport really means to us - if anything - or if it's simply a vehicle to fuel our type-A need for accomplishment on a continual basis.

I recall doing my very first Ironman at Ironman Canada in 2007. As I waited in line for body marking, the two guys in front of me were talking about the next Ironman they were planning to do. They hadn't even started the race, and already there eyes were 140.6 plus miles up the road. While not the same as the person who starts strictly with the idea of finishing their first - and also last - Ironman, I got a similar sense that there was a lack of appreciation for the "now." Simon Whitfield and Joel Filliol, my biggest influences in this sport, were fond of calling the here-and-now, "The Process." And I think "process" is always going to be more sustainable than accomplishment. Because "process" is the day in and day out. Process bears a lot in common, though I would say it's not identical, to what many folks call the triathlon "lifestyle." I think lifestyle is equally sustainable as a motivator for growth, but my dislike for "lifestyle" is that I think it's somewhat exclusionary. People who just want to get their training in, working it around family life, work commitments, and other hobbies are just as important as the guy who shaves his legs year round and wears his finisher's t-shirts as formal wear. I would say it's "process" that really connects those folks - those who really define themselves as "triathletes" and those for whom triathlon is simply something that they do.

In either case, it's the doing - not being done - that is the draw, and I think that's what makes something really last. Looking at other sports, I can't think of a comparable example to the typical question posed of many triathletes by co-workers and family members, "have you done a 'FULL' (or 'REAL') triathlon?" Or, the follow-up question to telling folks that you do/did a triathlon, "...like that one in Hawaii?" I'm not particularly concerned with trying to educate folks that a sprint triathlon is just as "real" as an Ironman. What really matters to me is that the people at the start line of a sprint believe that a sprint is just as much of a real triathlon as an Ironman. If you tell people you enjoy swimming, no one asks if you did a "real" swim. There's no such thing as a real bike ride, other than just getting on a bike and going for a ride, though the legions of Spinning enthusiasts might even disagree with me on that. And a 5k seems to be just as real as a marathon if you tell your friends you ran a race over the weekend. But with triathlon, this attitude of any race is a "real" race doesn't seem as prevalent. And I think that is largely perpetuated by triathletes themselves. As much as the "one-timers" who get into the sport simply to do an Ironman and be done, I think many triathletes view themselves only as triathletes because they are doing - or have done - an Ironman. And that cycle of chasing the status of "I've done an Ironman" is probably more pervasive, at least it seems to me, than the attitude of "one-and-done." And that's where I think triathletes need to have more appreciation for the "now."

This is not to lessen the extraordinary accomplishment that is an Ironman. In some ways, I'd say that we all need to recognize how much of an accomplishment that is. And to give ourself a break from, "What's next?" I say this as someone who is absolutely guilty of this. I'm an "achiever," which is not to say that I achieve great things, but rather to admit that I value myself based on what I achieve - or what I'm achieving. And I exist in what is at least a partially - and more likely an extremely - skewed community within triathlon. I spent most time interacting with other triathletes on the Slowtwitch.com forums, where lifestyle is probably inadequate as a term to define how important triathlon is - or at least seems to be - to most folks. "Life" is maybe more appropriate, though again, interacting with folks through only through a keyboard often yields a biased view of the world.

After every race, the remarkable feeling of accomplishment is always accompanied by a feeling of emptiness. And never is this more true, at least for me, than after an Ironman. But having been very close to having the chance to experience that ever again taken away permanently, I had to learn to accept some satisfaction in what I had done, rather than what I was going to do. I'm an Ironman, and nothing can take that away. I'm still not even close to all the way there, though as I prepare for my return to racing, I'm reminded much more often about how lucky I am to simply take part in the process. And I hope that the rest of you can as well. Enjoy being done. Enjoy doing. Just enjoy.