Ray Fauteux

I was a couch potato back in 1976, drinking too much beer and smoking way too much. Then one day, while lazing on the couch and channel surfing, I happened to land on the Montreal Olympic marathon.

Something about it intrigued me. Watching those runners cross the finish line after 26.2 miles wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided I was going to run a marathon.

I quit smoking, took up running, and five months later ran my first marathon.

That wasn't nearly enough, so I ran about seven more.

About six years later, I saw my first Ironman triathlon on TV. I had no idea what a triathlon was. Still, I was intrigued, and I had to go to Kona, Hawaii. I just had to.

There were a couple of problems. I didn't know how to swim, and I didn't know how to ride a road bike.

So I learned.

Two years later, I was standing on the start line of Ironman Hawaii 1984, about to do my first open-water swim. Just over 14 hours later, I crossed the finish line of what was, at the time, one of the most challenging endurance races in the world.

All things are possible.

As my competitive career wound down, some 35 marathons and 11 Ironman triathlons later, I decided to write a book to inspire others. I had no idea how to write a book, but six months later Ironstruck...The Ironman Triathlon Journey was born. It's second edition continues to find readers around the world.

That wasn't nearly enough either.

Over the years, writing has taken me through a full catalog of books, including my autobiography When Running Is Not Enough, Seniors on the Move, and several books about running and triathlon.

Then I returned to Kona in a different way.

It's Kona Calling is a novel set around Ironman Hawaii 1984—the very same race I competed in. Although the story is fiction, the Ironman world surrounding it is one I actually lived.

It takes the reader back to an Ironman before the internet, aero bars, clipless pedals, titanium and carbon fiber. Your gear was a trusty old bike, battered helmet, swimsuit, your favorite runners, and a burning desire to cross the finish line.

The changes in technology, diet, equipment and coaching have made the Ironman of today completely different from the Ironman of yesterday.

But some things haven't changed.

You still have to believe you can make it to the finish line.

The biggest thing I have learned over the years is that we are all capable of inspiring someone to become their best. Once you do that, you have truly arrived.

True success isn't measured by living in the biggest house on the biggest hill with rooms full of money.

I would be hard pressed to find anything more rewarding than changing the course of another person's life for the better because you believed in them.

It's a legacy that will live long after you have left this earth.