They tell us Ironman is a superhero.
They tell us Ironman has super powers, with super strength and super speed and special armor and the ability to fly.
They tell us Ironman is super special, being a figment of the imagination, a fanciful creation, a character in comic books and video games and animated television and blockbuster movie theaters. Someone we can read, and play, and watch, just for the price of a purchase. Someone that we can dream about, but never actually become.
But, you see, here's the deal: they're wrong.
Ironman is not a superhero. Ironman is real.
Ironman is she and he. Ironman is mom and dad. Ironman is grandma and grandpa. Ironman is young and old and small and big and healthy and sick. Ironman is rich and poor and office and street and city and country and mountain and beach. Ironman is rolling in a wheelchair or walking around on crutches. Ironman is overweight with high blood pressure and cholesterol and type 2 diabetes. Ironman is debilitating illness and degenerative condition. Ironman is sad, depressed, overstressed, overworked, unhappy, unfulfilled, lost, and confused.
Ironman is anybody who's ever dreamed of becoming more, who's ever wanted to become better than what they are now, who's ever desired to find out the kind of person they were meant to be.
Ironman is anybody who's then decided to act, and picked themselves up, and opened the door, and gone outside, and taken the first step of many steps...towards the number of 140.6 as marked in miles, on a journey that will ultimately last a lifetime.
Ironman is anybody.
Ironman is you.
excerpted from the original at jonathan in the distance