At the beginning of this project no one intended for there to be an epilogue. By the time we reached the final story, no one imagined there couldn’t be one. The story would be incomplete without an account of the unexpected transformations that took place during the months of writing and editing.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the series.

Scott Zagarino

For years I kicked the idea around of creating a legacy piece for the 1989 Ironman. At times I thought maybe it’s just me. Maybe I am only one of a handful of people that believes that this race, between these two men, on that day was the most inspirational, courageous and transformational things I would ever see in my lifetime. I also admit that I am a lot closer to the events of that day both in my thirty plus years of friendship with Dave Scott and Mark Allen, and that I was in the press vehicle right behind them most of the way through the race. However, every time I read about that race combing through old magazines or saw a video clip online my faith was restored. The 1989 Ironman deserves a claim to the title of the greatest race ever run, and as one of the most inspirational athletic performances that will occur in my lifetime.

As Mark and Dave warmed to the idea of putting this all down in writing after 30 years, I found myself dealing with two men who had talked about the race and each other in the same kind of professionally courteous manner for 30 years. I also began to see that we had all, in a sense frozen in time. So much had happened in the time leading up to that race that no one knew about, and Dave and Mark had stuck to a kind of script in public when telling it. I began to realize not only were they telling a virtually identical story, but they were the same people from 1989 telling it. That’s when it struck me that they slipped in and out of the events of 1989 like they were wearing a suit of armor. The public for the most part was always eager to hear the story whenever they were trotted out to tell it, and both told it as if 1989 were yesterday. People would applaud, shake hands afterword and both Dave and Mark would then neatly hang their 1989 suits of armor in the closet until the next outing.

When I received the first draft of the first story, I suddenly realized that these guys really don’t know what happened beyond their individual experience at all. For obvious reasons because the outcome had become so well-known I don’t think either of them had been consciously or subconsciously in a great big hurry to sit down and open up about the details of their personal lives and struggles during that period to each other, but I think that in the agreement to go into this as the one and only telling ever of the whole picture that they had to decide whether to wear their suits of armor and leave it at that, or to rip off all of the band aids and let it heal or hurt whatever the case.

There were many times when one or the other would reveal something about their experience at a certain time during the buildup and the other would reply with; “Really? I had no idea you felt that way.” For the first time in the 30 years I’ve known Dave he revealed probably one of the most painful and personal struggles a person can face. He wrote frankly, openly and in great detail about how that affected his life and his decisions far beyond the sport of triathlon. When Mark read the first writing on this topic his reply was; “I had no idea.” I was witnessing two people who had been literally and figuratively joined at the hip learning about each other for the first time.

What transpired over the course of the writing was an amazing thing to be a part of. There were times when you could tell when an old wound or tender nerve had been struck. The corresponding submission would have been clearly written from inside the suits of armor. None of it was intentional, it was just based on that self-protection mechanism that all of us brings up when we think someone is trying to wound us. But there was always a willingness to believe an honest apology, or if not an apology then an explanation. Neither was trying to make friends, but rather to honestly make the effort to understand each other. Through the process I think both realized that sharing a legacy and friendship is a delicate and complicated thing.. Especially when the legacy you share could only have one winner.

Editing these individual stories into a cohesive narrative was going to be a massive task and we didn’t have anywhere near the budget for my first choice to edit this. Becca Borawski Jenkins is my idea of a writer’s writer. She doesn’t dabble. She writes. Even if it weren’t for her prodigious talent, her commitment to writing would put her near the top of her profession. So, I did what all savvy business people do when they want someone they can’t afford. I begged. Convincing Becca was slow going, but I finally wore her down simply by refusing to leave her alone for more than a day.

Becca was skeptical at first. She wasn’t a triathlete, didn’t know much about Dave and Mark, and didn’t know a thing about the 1989 Ironman but as she began to see the entirety of the story in context, she threw herself into the telling with every new submission. Her increasingly genuinely awe-struck reaction to the story confirmed my faith in how this story could and would inspire people in any circumstances, from triathletes, to non-athletes, to CEO’s.

For my part, getting this story right and having it in a place where people from all walks can access it has been one of the most important things I’ve ever done. Not important in the ego fulfilling sense (although I am sure that’s in here somewhere), but in the sense that if I didn’t do this, I know I would always feel that I had missed an opportunity to do a good thing for the right reasons.

This website is a place where triathletes desperately trying to explain to someone who knows nothing about triathlon why this sport is so powerful to them, can provide anyone a link that will explain better than any one person could why the sport is so important to them.

Finally, I want to thank Dave and Mark for once more leaving it all out on the course. I want to thank Becca for supporting me in way that only a true friend can support me. Last but not least I want to thank my wife, Greta Rose. Through this whole process from conception to completion she has done the dog walking, let me be late for more occasions than I can count and reminding me that we are all responsible for our own inspiration.