How A Triathlon Helped Me Better Appreciate The Move Papillon

In the movie Papillon, Steve McQueen, playing the title role, is placed in solitary confinement, and every so often, he and the other inmates in solitary have to stick their heads through a special hole in the door so that the guards can check on them. Early in his incarceration, McQueen is surprised and perplexed by the old man in the cell next to him who demands that McQueen tell him how he looks. "How do I look?" the man groans. "You look good," McQueen lies. Later in the movie, after years of solitary, McQueen is the one asking his neighbors how he looks.

I thought of that movie yesterday as I competed in the international division of the Greenfield Triathlon. And competed is a pretty strong term. I didn't finish last, but I came closer to last than I did to first. For the biking and running portions of this race, participants must bike four times around a 7.5 mile loop, and then run the loop (for the most part; the run leg varies a little bit at the end.) That means that the volunteers who man the water stations around the course--and let me just say, the volunteers were GREAT, very supportive and helpful--see each particpant at least four times during the course of the race. And as I passed them, most of them said the same thing to me: "Looking good!" Which I knew to be a complete lie. But you know what? It did help me get through the race.


I've been training for the race for the last couple of months, but I didn't realize how wrapped up I'd gotten in the preparation until the day before the triathlon, when I got an email from the race director saying that the swim portion had been canceled. Now, you might think that not having to do the swim (instead of the swim, they scheduled a short sprint) would make preparing for the race easier, but I'll admit to being very perplexed for a couple of hours because I couldn't quite figure out what gear I needed to bring, after having already laid out everything I would need for a "regular" triathlon.

Here's all the gear I ended up bringing, laid out in my section of the transition area.


Here's the swimming area that caused all the problems (the recent heavy rains had caused some bacteria to get into the water).



A wider view of the transition area:


For me the low point of the race came when I was on my last bike loop. I passed one group of volunteers and they began clapping and cheering. One of the guys said, "You're the last one, right?" Now, it took more a little more than three hours to complete the entire triathlon, which means that I had more than enough time to think about a lot of stuff. So, of course I started thinking much too much about what this guy had said. "How rude!" I thought to myself. "I know I'm slow and all, and that he's been out here all day--and that he probably can't go home until I'm done, but there's no need to point out how poorly I'm doing."

It took me a while to realize that he wasn't saying, "You're the last one, right?" He knew that he'd seen me before. What he was really saying was, "Your last one, right?" In other words, he was asking if it was, indeed, my last loop on the bike.



I did manage to pass someone on the run leg. As I passed, I said, "we're getting there!" He replied, "At least this isn't as bad as a hangover!" I don't really know what that means, but I do have to question his training regimen.

The highlight of the race was approaching the last turn on the run and seeing my family there to cheer for me. When they met me at the finish line, my youngest son asked me how the bike leg was. "Owen," I said. "Everything today was really hard."

But at least I wasn't hungover, too.