(Photo by J. Korn) Honestly, I'm writing this for me as much as I am for you, a reminder and the culmination of what I've learned having come this far. We're in this together, all of us racing, all those supporting. And I'm grateful for every one of you.

Know that in the morning it is always dark, and there is always life even if you can't see it stirring. You'll feel it first on the air - a vibration and then a hum - the streetlights will soon illuminate the others like you, and that will be the beginning.

The humming will heighten, as will your adrenaline. You'll breathe as you've never breathed and see as you've never seen. People. The day. Yourself. It will be overwhelming and not, like the last seconds before your first kiss swirling in your stomach and hot in your veins, pulsing and strong until you pass through the gates of transition where the race will rush over you, and for the next several minutes make you struggle to stay upright. This is Ironman.

Come what may, you've come to the line, and no matter what happens at the end of the day if you can honestly say you've earned your slot, this is progress from the place you once began. When you decided and when you were afraid. When you believed enough to risk and to rally and to try. This gives you the right to stand shoulder to shoulder with your toes in the water, and like the sister finish, it's something no one can take away from you. Ever. Remember. And as you quiver there in that sea of yourself whisper, I can. I can.

On that shore remember before you take one step more to be your own best asset and ally. To be grateful and selfless. Remember the world does not revolve around you, but has come out for you. Yes, amazingly, you, and that there is nothing more humbling than the hundreds you'll see cheering and screaming and believing in you and for you. That there is nothing more reaffirming than knowing you are loved and admired for what you believe and for who you are, and for the simple fact that you've dared defy thunderstorms and heatwaves and freezing, soul-wearing winds in pursuit of what you could be, and what you have become. Because you've fought. Because you've insisted, and invested in evolving. Because you would be more. This is Ironman.

Know over the course of the day (and ever thereafter) you will be tested. There will be times when you won't feel you can go on, but you will because you have if you remember; if you look around and realize where you are and just how far you've already come. Always remember how far you've already come, and avoid losing the moment you're in because you're caught up in living the next. What lies ahead arrives one stroke at a time and on the heels of one foot in front of the other. Focus and re-center, and when it hurts the most, smile. Be defiant, and will the world the way you would have it because anything is possible. You've proven this time and time again under all manner of skies and over hundreds of miles; in the water and on the road, chasing Ironman.