I took the role of observer, volunteer, and awe-struck spectator today.
I saw you today, every shape, size, and all ranges zoom-zoom to get to the finish line. Some were unhurried spirits taking there time. No rush, no worries, I’ll get there in due time with a smile was your message.
You devout seeming every drop of blood to keep the motor running leaving not so much for the pilot house. In spite of orange cones, shouting neon-lit-yellow-shirted volunteers yelling “LEFT UP THE HILL” and 215 pounds of clyde blocking your way, a number of you still had to be coralled from going off course into on-coming duathletes. Apologetic and polite you were and back on task. WTG.
You can also be a very focused lot. I manned the bike dismount line and I was impressed by two athletes who could nail the dismount, on the fly, without a missed or hesitant step while side stepping a just fallen cyclists. Very impressive.
There is world that separates the athletes from the spectators. Today I stood with the spectators and could see the divide. Eleven years I’ve been at this but on this day I was not. It was your time, your race, your adventure.
I stood in awe, quite shocked by these spectacles of endurance and frailty. You were out there putting in a hard day of play and was I privileged to watch. I use to experience, “Good-Job” for difficult days and late finishes as folks trying to be nice. I don’t think so now. “Good-job” is genuine respect. Perhaps it’s also a wish, a dream, maybe even a little regret, and not to be so easily dismissed or disrespected. And I tell you a quick wink or nod from the athlete, a “thanks,” or a high-five was mighty appreciated gift. As such it bridged the divide and extended a welcome to the sport. Nicely done ladies and gentleman. Nicely done.