A breif look into the world of triathlon raceing |
The Runners by Frederick J. Morales The illumination of the sun just rising to the east gave him a running head start. The heat rays would soon weigh him down to the point where he would have to keep a steady pace rather than risk getting tired. The added effort he would have to make, due to the more rapid increase in body temperature, would also make him concentrate on the distance each foot would advance. Therefore, he would not slow down during the period the sun was at its hottest;at twelve noon. There was to be no one around him at all as he began his one hundred and fifty mile run, for whatever reason the printing on the back of his T-shirt read. It was much more personal than that,almost an obsession,to pull G's, he called it. To feel his adrenalin flow and experience the "high", the pain and the numbness that gave him that feeling of grandeur."After a month's rest and relaxation upon reaching my destination and winning the prize money,all that remains is awe",Don would say His personal felling about running made him wish he would never get to where he was going. That was the only place in his mind where he could have disturbing thoughts if he didn't get there first! By mid morning of the fifth day he had already ran the scheduled distance of one hundred fifty miles. he was to rendezvous with a ford pickup that would enable a person to give him nourishment,fresh water from a canteen and a portion of salt tablets. Those are the three most essential items needed at that point to keep on running,biking and swimming,more common known as a Triathlon,in August of 1991. He ran at perhaps eight minutes for each mile and he knew he could run a mile in less than six minutes. That would be pretty fast to the untrained eye of an ordinary spectator. Even to an experienced runner , he would really be someone to beat. His face looked weather beaten while cycling,his six foot stature naturally displayed the strain placed on his leg muscles. His arm muscles would gracefully aid in relieving some of the stress while peddling to no end. Don's long lanky legs naturally gave him the advantage over the balance of nature as though he had been born to ride a ten speed bicycle. He meticulously searched the road for any obstruction that would upset that delicate equilibrium he had achieved of mind and body,while he and Peter alternated at fifty mile intervals. At the halfway point he decided to celebrate because Don was informed after tagging his partner that he had set a new swimming worlds record across Lake Winnipesaukee. As the sun fell to the west,so did Donald's body temperature, though he was full of sweat from head to toe he continued to be festive well into the night while Peter rested for the run the next day. They were well ahead of the other contestants so he could afford to, according to the triathlon rules of New Hampshire. The race started at Portsmouth and finished somewhere at the US-Canadian border town of Pittsburgh it took them through the White Mountains and north.The sooner they arrived at the finish ahead of the five hundred other contestants the better.the route designated had already been conquered by other runners but,not as fast as Don and Peter had done it. Once at the White Mountains, they had to replace the last team the next day. It was reported that a runner had been killed climbing "possum hill" a couple of years back by falling down a fifty foot high cliff just off interstate ninety-three.There is a strong superstition about it being bad luck crossing the path of someone who had been killed and since Peter and Don had the best time they had to destroy the curse that one of them might be killed also. According to the legend only one attempt could be made.Don and Peter had already more than satisfied their sponsors requirements of a hundred miles in two days if they wore "Nike" sports wear so they accepted the challenge made to Don the night before The competitive atmosphere grew more intense both among the spectators and the contestants. Don wanted "IN" for the social recognition. Triathlon was just another way of having another good old time to him. Peter on the other hand was a serious down to earth kind of guy, though they were known as the "Mathews Brothers" they were still a team and Peter handled the business end of racing for money. They had just won five thousand dollars but, the race was still going on in Pete's mind. His brother accepted to destroy the legend of possum hill because Pete had broken a record in winning the race,whether they arrived at the finish first or not. Hundreds of people waited as Don and Pete arrived from Pittsburgh,New Hampshire because Don had accepted a dare that he couldn't break the curse of possum hill and get to the top of the fifty foot cliff that had killed Joe Johnson or "JJ" as they used to call him. Don was to race Allen Cooper because he would not accept second place. Both men went to the bottom of the hill dressed in only short pants and t-shirts. Don volunteered to take his t-shirt off so the judges could tell who was winning. An hour later the yell of one falling in terror could be heard.Noone could tell which one had been killed due to the exited spectators,then another hour passed and Peter was being held back by three men in an emotional state of shock. suddenly an arm reached over the top of the ledge and hundreds of people cheered the man without a t-shirt. The End |