It all started with a casual conversation in early January, fresh off of thinking about my goals and vision for the year. A friend mentioned they had signed up for an Ironman triathlon, and my wife’s off-hand comment “oh Mark, you could do that no problem!” started the wheels turning. There was no going back once the idea had been planted.

For those unfamiliar, an Ironman 70.3, also known as a Half Ironman, consists of a 1900m swim, a 90km bike ride, and a 21km run. No problem (thanks Amanda 😝).

The Ironman has always been a challenge I’ve wanted to tackle. Growing up, I remember doing a few “Kids of Steel” triathlons, and enjoyed the atmosphere of race day. I have now run a marathon and finished several Gran Fondo cycling events, but I’ve always been intimidated by the swim portion of a tri. The thought of swimming a long distance in open water surrounded by thrashing competitors was daunting.

I knew the swim would always be holding me back until I just went for it. I started to commit by telling people I was doing this event long before I even signed up. Visualizing crossing the finish line, I finally took the plunge and registered on March 9th. My wetsuit didn’t arrive until early May, and with only one open water swim under my belt, some called me crazy. My first time swimming the full distance, I completed it in 55 minutes, easing my mind since the race cut-off would be 1 hour and 10 minutes.

When I first wriggled into my wetsuit and got out in the open water, a sense of panic set in. What had I gotten myself into? As I settled in and found a rhythm, I returned to a mantra that has previously helped me through challenging times:

Steady strong smile

This “three S” maxim developed out of a mental strategy I relied upon in my hockey days: Calm Controlled Confident was the “three C” motto back then. The mind has the potential to be a hazardous place when things get hard. I find having something I can return to and focus on helps keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.

Misogi

During my preparation, I came across the concept of Misogi, an ancient Japanese practice where one undertakes a challenging task once a year that is so difficult it has the ability to change you (this one event in the calendar informs the way you live the other 364 days of the year).

With this concept in mind, leading up to the day I adopted the “75 hard” framework. 75 days out from the event, I committed to two 45 minute workouts every day (at least one outdoors), 10 pages of reading, no alcohol, tons of water and a daily progress photo. This formed the basis of my training.

The Day

A lot of people asked if I was nervous, but honestly I put in the work so that I could be fully confident in my preparation at the start line. I visualized a successful race hundreds of times, so on the day, I could just show up, execute and actually enjoy it.

The nerves did set in a bit waiting to get in the water. Standing there shivering in the early morning rain, packed in the starting chute like livestock, I wondered what I was in for. Once I got in the water, I found the sense of flow I was searching for.

Overall, I’m thrilled with how the day went. Accomplishments don't happen by accident- they require dedication, preparation, and a willingness to face discomfort. You find out things about yourself, and discover what you’re capable of. One helpful framework I reminded myself from previous endurance events: when you’re 80% done, you should approach it as if there’s still 50% left. You have to stay mentally strong all the way through to the end.

Find your hard

Crossing the finish line tends to be emotional. Once you’ve overcome a challenge, that feeling is something no one can take from you. When reflecting on life in old age, these are likely some of the memories that will come to mind, things you will be remembered for.

One last thing to keep in mind: hard is relative. While doing an Ironman was difficult in my mind, I think of others like The “Iron Cowboy”, who completed 100 full distance Ironman’s 100 days in a row. There’s always a bigger fish! I’m grateful to those who have inspired me to think bigger along the way.

Waking up the next morning, my first thought is: what’s next?