A contest between competing ideals.
Three disciplines whose common intent,
Moves my mind, my arms, my heels.
Before the start, my thoughts are twisted,
A struggle between my hopes and fears.
I transform myself to a sporting hybrid,
A worthy competitor for my peers.
First the cold water shocks my body,
A small preview of the forces I face.
Like an amphibian I swim steadily,
Struggling against the water's embrace.
After the swim, the air is my enemy,
My bike and I are like a sail.
This cruel opponent pushes against me,
Fatigue results from fighting the gale.
Lastly, the ground takes its toll,
My legs like wheels, carry me onward.
The finish line a mesmeric goal,
Urging my exhausted body forward.
After the race, I am a trembling leaf,
Fatigue engulfs me completely.
Uncertainty steals from my relief,
My achievement clouded in mystery.
Briefly re-energized after my rest,
I get up to search out my standing.
Formidable challengers shared my contest,
Filling pages that record their timing.
Nervously looking for the results I received,
I carefully double check their values.
Fearing the worst, not wanting to be deceived,
The jumbled lists of numbers confuse.
Excitement builds as success dawns upon me,
I eagerly wait for the public confirmation.
As the award is handed to me warmly,
The crowd backs it up with tremendous ovation.
Submitted by MikeEss
About the Author:
This poem was written for the author's daughter: "I'm a proud (non-sporting) father of a (very) competitive daughter who has accomplished some remarkable feats."
