What is an Ironman?

As you might imagine, the table talk the last week at our house has been increasingly focused on how I'm feeling, how training is going and what I'm going to do once I cross that finish line and forever become an Ironman. Though it means the world to me, I don't think my kids have ever paid much attention to my endless hours of training (remember, my kids are 7 and 4) nor really understood what daddy has to do in order to become an Ironman.

Hadley (left) and Carvor (right) @ Shcnepf's Farm

So after asking them some interesting questions (followed by some  hilarious answers) at dinner the other night, I learned that becoming an Ironman (to them) meant that I would turn into this robot-like guy with a red and gold helmet with a pulsating light on his chest.

Ah, the power of marketing.

So after clearing up the confusion between the movie and daddy's race, the light bulb seemed to click on for them (at least for the 7-year old). At least now they know I'm swimming, biking and running in a race and not flying through the sky or shooting light rays from my hands (though, the latter might be awesomer according to my son).

The following day, after being sequestered in my office with a full day of phone calls my kids surprised me with some posters they had created (with the help of mommy). They hang right beside my desk and are a great source of motivation. It's a reminder that as adults, we naturally over-complicate things that are usually  pretty simple when viewed through the eyes of a child.

I'm pretty sure they don't care much about my race - oh, I know they support me and will be happy when I return victorious. But at the end of the day, I'm still just dad. And I wouldn't change that for the world.

(speech bubble = "I'm tired")

The order of events isn't important. It's the thought, right?