Earlier this month the Wall Street Journal ran a story on a new series of Ironman-branded races that will launch next year giving athletes the opportunity to have the “Ironman” experience over the course of 31.9 miles, versus the traditional Ironman distance of 140.6 miles. The article stirs up an ongoing argument in the triathlon community as to what constitutes the proper claim of the title, “Ironman.”
To provide some perspective for those who may not be aware of the controversy, here are the top line beliefs in the Ironman debate. The most hardcore opinion is that you are only an Ironman if you have won a slot to the Kona Championship race in Hawaii and completed that particular course. It has been said that the red M-dot logo (which is the symbol for Ironman) should only be tattooed onto the bodies of those have completed this race, thus branding them forever with this grand accomplishment. Many triathletes who have completed an Ironman race outside of Kona have gotten the iconic M-dot tattoo, or have referred to themselves as an Ironman. There are some who have completed races that are half the distance of Ironman (known as 70.3 races) who also claim to be an Ironman after crossing the finish line.
The debate has valid points on each side. On one hand, the Ironman is little more than a branded series of races that all cover the same distance—although the courses vary in their respective challenges (flat, fast courses versus slower, steep ones, or choppy swims in the ocean versus smoother swims in a lake), each race is comprised of a 1.2 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run.
Ironman was the first race of its kind when triathlon got its start back in the late 1970s, and the brand should be credited for bringing so much attention to the sport and the ultimate feat of covering 140.6 miles all in one event. The World Triathlon Corporation has done an excellent job making the experience of endurance racing worth the sacrifices it takes to accomplish such a race. At its core, the Ironman celebrates the human spirit, the will to survive, and a soul-searching journey that must be tapped into in order to keep moving forward to the finish line.
But should Ironman be the only event that “officially” grants us access to that kind of self-awareness and accomplishment?
Like many other successful brands, Ironman has transformed over the years to become THE product, regardless of the other products out there that share the same attributes. Think of it like Kleenex. You might be blowing your nose into a Puffs tissue, or the store’s brand of facial tissue, but you call it a Kleenex. The brand has become synonymous with the product. Ironman is no different.
Some people wonder if they complete a race that is the same distance as an Ironman, are they an Ironman? Or does it have to be on an official Ironman course?
I do believe that Ironman goes out of its way to ensure its participants will have an unparalleled experience while racing. The company does a lot to support and celebrate its athletes, and many courses become known for specific challenges presented along the way. Being privy to a “behind the scenes” look at how the Ironman-branded 70.3 course was mapped out in Syracuse, N.Y., I can say that I know for a fact there is careful consideration to the way the course is selected so that it will feature something notable about the area. Do other race directors and teams do the same kind of legwork? Probably, but Ironman has built its brand on the idea of providing a quality course to challenge and thrill its athletes.
As noted in the WSJ article, only a small percentage of triathletes will move out of the Sprint and Olympic distance triathlons and go on to complete a full Ironman. For some, the time commitment is too great. For others, 140.6 miles seem surreal and impossible to take on. As such, the recent boom in 70.3 races has given “would-be Ironmen” the opportunity to dabble in hardcore triathlon without having to make the kinds of sacrifices it would take to train for a full Ironman race.
Here is where it gets complicated again.
I applaud anyone who is going to take on the challenge of training for ANY triathlon—it’s not an easy sport, and it requires a lot of time and discipline no matter what distance you’re going for. Jumping up from the smaller races into the 70.3 distance is a considerable leap for many, and the satisfaction of that achievement is so inspiring that many will begin to think about the possibility of a full Ironman for the first time. However, completing a 70.3 race won’t technically make you an Ironman—but for many people it will spiritually make them one.
As the leading triathlon brand out there, I think that Ironman has an obligation to cater to the growing number of people getting involved in this sport and to inspire them to take part in it with more race options. In that respect, I applaud the World Triathlon Corporation for coming up with the 5150 series (the official name of the 31.9 mile races launching next year). Ironman is a brand after all, and in business brands need to listen to their consumers and cater to their needs. Ironman is doing just that.
My personal feeling is that the Ironman should be respected for the actual distance of each leg in the race, and less for the M-dot branded chotchkies, onslaught of corporate sponsorship logos and steep registration fees. If you’ve done a race that is the distance of an Ironman, I believe you’re an Ironman. You’ve worked for and celebrated the same victory as anyone who steps across the finish line after 10+ hours of blood, sweat and tears (less than 10 hours if you’re a pro!).
When someone completes a generic 140.6 race or a 70.3 race, and then calls himself an Ironman, does it dilute the allure of the title? Maybe, but does that really matter? I’ve completed triathlon races of all distances, and I can remember being one of the people who never thought an Ironman would be possible. I came into triathlon from a long history of running that began as a 100-meter sprinter. Any race over 13 seconds seemed impossible to me!
I’ve always known what an Ironman was, and respected the people that did them. I never understood why anyone would be upset about the idea of someone calling themselves an Ironman when they didn’t do the actual race. Wasn’t covering 140.6 miles good enough? Isn’t the fact that a human body can move from point A to point B in that way remarkable no matter how it happened?
I believe the people who will be disgruntled about the Ironman versus non-Ironman title are the ones who might be buying into this sport for the wrong reasons. There are plenty of status-driven people who do these races—myself among them. I like the feeling of being driven and disciplined enough to put myself up to the kind of a challenge that an Ironman presents. I like to know that I can do it. As a result, I definitely have more than a few items that promote that accomplishment. But it doesn’t define me to the point that I’m upset if someone else wants to call themselves an Ironman just because they went about it in a different way.
And the people that have only completed a 70.3 race and then refer to themselves as an Ironman? That’s okay with me too. They say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. If you are among the small percentage of triathletes who has covered 140.6 miles with an official time to prove it, then you are among the people that the Sprint, Olympic, and 70.3 athletes automatically look up to and respect. Let them take some credit for their accomplishments. If that means wearing the “Ironman” hat when they only did half the work, so be it.
Does it really take your accomplishments away from you? Did it shorten your previous 140.6-mile races? Are you any less of an Ironman just because someone else is trying on the idea after a key race in their experience as a triathlete?
Look at it this way. A few years ago, Britney Spears got married in Vegas to a friend she was hanging out with during a drunken night on the town. Did her sham of a marriage dilute anyone else’s vows? Did her fun time in Vegas make you less of a partner in your marriage, or make your sacred bond less meaningful?
What happens in Ironman is so much greater than the fanfare that comes with a $500 entry-fee, cheering spectators, and God-like admiration when you finish the race. It’s a conversation with yourself that needs no words. A renewed bond with yourself that you’ll never be able to explain, and you’ll never forget. If the World Triathlon Corporation is doing things to make that bond more accessible for others, then we should all be happy for that.
As triathletes, we know that our practice in this sport drives us to be successful in other areas of life—not just during our swimming, biking and running. I’ve always believed that if everyone ran just three miles a day, the world would be a better place. If those three miles happen to be at the end of a Sprint triathlon, that’s even better. Let’s be happy that more people want to make themselves and their lives better, and stop bickering over who gets to celebrate it with a stupid title. It seems that Ironman is becoming a numbers game, but it shouldn’t be about 31.9, 70.3 or 140.6. It should be about the commitment to sign up for the challenge and see it through, one step at a time.
To provide some perspective for those who may not be aware of the controversy, here are the top line beliefs in the Ironman debate. The most hardcore opinion is that you are only an Ironman if you have won a slot to the Kona Championship race in Hawaii and completed that particular course. It has been said that the red M-dot logo (which is the symbol for Ironman) should only be tattooed onto the bodies of those have completed this race, thus branding them forever with this grand accomplishment. Many triathletes who have completed an Ironman race outside of Kona have gotten the iconic M-dot tattoo, or have referred to themselves as an Ironman. There are some who have completed races that are half the distance of Ironman (known as 70.3 races) who also claim to be an Ironman after crossing the finish line.
The debate has valid points on each side. On one hand, the Ironman is little more than a branded series of races that all cover the same distance—although the courses vary in their respective challenges (flat, fast courses versus slower, steep ones, or choppy swims in the ocean versus smoother swims in a lake), each race is comprised of a 1.2 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run.
Ironman was the first race of its kind when triathlon got its start back in the late 1970s, and the brand should be credited for bringing so much attention to the sport and the ultimate feat of covering 140.6 miles all in one event. The World Triathlon Corporation has done an excellent job making the experience of endurance racing worth the sacrifices it takes to accomplish such a race. At its core, the Ironman celebrates the human spirit, the will to survive, and a soul-searching journey that must be tapped into in order to keep moving forward to the finish line.
But should Ironman be the only event that “officially” grants us access to that kind of self-awareness and accomplishment?
Like many other successful brands, Ironman has transformed over the years to become THE product, regardless of the other products out there that share the same attributes. Think of it like Kleenex. You might be blowing your nose into a Puffs tissue, or the store’s brand of facial tissue, but you call it a Kleenex. The brand has become synonymous with the product. Ironman is no different.
Some people wonder if they complete a race that is the same distance as an Ironman, are they an Ironman? Or does it have to be on an official Ironman course?
I do believe that Ironman goes out of its way to ensure its participants will have an unparalleled experience while racing. The company does a lot to support and celebrate its athletes, and many courses become known for specific challenges presented along the way. Being privy to a “behind the scenes” look at how the Ironman-branded 70.3 course was mapped out in Syracuse, N.Y., I can say that I know for a fact there is careful consideration to the way the course is selected so that it will feature something notable about the area. Do other race directors and teams do the same kind of legwork? Probably, but Ironman has built its brand on the idea of providing a quality course to challenge and thrill its athletes.
As noted in the WSJ article, only a small percentage of triathletes will move out of the Sprint and Olympic distance triathlons and go on to complete a full Ironman. For some, the time commitment is too great. For others, 140.6 miles seem surreal and impossible to take on. As such, the recent boom in 70.3 races has given “would-be Ironmen” the opportunity to dabble in hardcore triathlon without having to make the kinds of sacrifices it would take to train for a full Ironman race.
Here is where it gets complicated again.
I applaud anyone who is going to take on the challenge of training for ANY triathlon—it’s not an easy sport, and it requires a lot of time and discipline no matter what distance you’re going for. Jumping up from the smaller races into the 70.3 distance is a considerable leap for many, and the satisfaction of that achievement is so inspiring that many will begin to think about the possibility of a full Ironman for the first time. However, completing a 70.3 race won’t technically make you an Ironman—but for many people it will spiritually make them one.
As the leading triathlon brand out there, I think that Ironman has an obligation to cater to the growing number of people getting involved in this sport and to inspire them to take part in it with more race options. In that respect, I applaud the World Triathlon Corporation for coming up with the 5150 series (the official name of the 31.9 mile races launching next year). Ironman is a brand after all, and in business brands need to listen to their consumers and cater to their needs. Ironman is doing just that.
My personal feeling is that the Ironman should be respected for the actual distance of each leg in the race, and less for the M-dot branded chotchkies, onslaught of corporate sponsorship logos and steep registration fees. If you’ve done a race that is the distance of an Ironman, I believe you’re an Ironman. You’ve worked for and celebrated the same victory as anyone who steps across the finish line after 10+ hours of blood, sweat and tears (less than 10 hours if you’re a pro!).
When someone completes a generic 140.6 race or a 70.3 race, and then calls himself an Ironman, does it dilute the allure of the title? Maybe, but does that really matter? I’ve completed triathlon races of all distances, and I can remember being one of the people who never thought an Ironman would be possible. I came into triathlon from a long history of running that began as a 100-meter sprinter. Any race over 13 seconds seemed impossible to me!
I’ve always known what an Ironman was, and respected the people that did them. I never understood why anyone would be upset about the idea of someone calling themselves an Ironman when they didn’t do the actual race. Wasn’t covering 140.6 miles good enough? Isn’t the fact that a human body can move from point A to point B in that way remarkable no matter how it happened?
I believe the people who will be disgruntled about the Ironman versus non-Ironman title are the ones who might be buying into this sport for the wrong reasons. There are plenty of status-driven people who do these races—myself among them. I like the feeling of being driven and disciplined enough to put myself up to the kind of a challenge that an Ironman presents. I like to know that I can do it. As a result, I definitely have more than a few items that promote that accomplishment. But it doesn’t define me to the point that I’m upset if someone else wants to call themselves an Ironman just because they went about it in a different way.
And the people that have only completed a 70.3 race and then refer to themselves as an Ironman? That’s okay with me too. They say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. If you are among the small percentage of triathletes who has covered 140.6 miles with an official time to prove it, then you are among the people that the Sprint, Olympic, and 70.3 athletes automatically look up to and respect. Let them take some credit for their accomplishments. If that means wearing the “Ironman” hat when they only did half the work, so be it.
Does it really take your accomplishments away from you? Did it shorten your previous 140.6-mile races? Are you any less of an Ironman just because someone else is trying on the idea after a key race in their experience as a triathlete?
Look at it this way. A few years ago, Britney Spears got married in Vegas to a friend she was hanging out with during a drunken night on the town. Did her sham of a marriage dilute anyone else’s vows? Did her fun time in Vegas make you less of a partner in your marriage, or make your sacred bond less meaningful?
What happens in Ironman is so much greater than the fanfare that comes with a $500 entry-fee, cheering spectators, and God-like admiration when you finish the race. It’s a conversation with yourself that needs no words. A renewed bond with yourself that you’ll never be able to explain, and you’ll never forget. If the World Triathlon Corporation is doing things to make that bond more accessible for others, then we should all be happy for that.
As triathletes, we know that our practice in this sport drives us to be successful in other areas of life—not just during our swimming, biking and running. I’ve always believed that if everyone ran just three miles a day, the world would be a better place. If those three miles happen to be at the end of a Sprint triathlon, that’s even better. Let’s be happy that more people want to make themselves and their lives better, and stop bickering over who gets to celebrate it with a stupid title. It seems that Ironman is becoming a numbers game, but it shouldn’t be about 31.9, 70.3 or 140.6. It should be about the commitment to sign up for the challenge and see it through, one step at a time.
