Twelve months ago I began a journey. A journey more physically and mentally demanding than anything I’d ever done. For twelve months I had trained harder than I ever have. For twelve months my thoughts had been dominated by the journey I was on and the goal at the end. For twelve months I had answered the 4am alarms. And I had pushed through the pain of torn bulging discs and aches and pains in my knees, hips, and ankles. I knew in my heart that I had put in enough training and was ready to finish this race strong. Over the last year I had swam 106 miles, biked 4,469 miles, and ran another 850 miles. But after seeing the race day forecast of 95-100 degree heat my confidence was shaken and my mind was constantly occupied with doubt and fear. I desperately wanted the answer to the question… Will I cross this finish line and be declared an “Ironman”?