A friend was looking for a partner to complete a triathlon with her. Altho I had once considered myself athletic, I was no athlete and knew a triathlon required more intense training than I was willing to commit to or capable of.

But! This was a modified triathlon…instead of swimming, pairs canoed 7K. Rather than running a marathon distance, we ran 9K. And finished by biking 40K. OK, I could do that. Not necessarily gracefully or winningly, but I could finish confidently.

I began to doubt this decision as soon as I jumped out of the canoe and changed quickly into my running shoes. At that moment it struck me that running was never what I did next after canoeing at the cabin - we typically dragged the canoe on shore and laid on the dock soaking up the sun! I forgot to practice that part.

Running (jogging) was ok as I power-walk about as fast as I jog, so I alternated.

Then I jumped on my bike. Things were going fine, I certainly wasn't anywhere near even the middle of the pack, but I would finish this race proudly.

Soon I started struggling. Suddenly, in unison, any ounce of power I had left in any muscle anywhere, vanished. From my mind as well as my body. I knew I was in trouble.

I started noticing police officers removing the barricades blocking traffic from the course. Was the race over? But I wasn't done yet…could I possibly be the last soul out here?

I turned and saw a woman crying and struggling to pedal. I matched her pace
(lucky it wasn't faster than mine or I couldn't have!) and asked how she was doing. She cried that she could never face her friends again if she finished last.

I asked why she thought she was last. She said a passerby told her she was the last one on the course, and a barricade-removing officer confirmed it. That meant only one thing - I was the last one on the course too!

At that instant, my mind and muscles returned to full strength. I saw my purpose in this triathlon and BOLD!ly assured her I would not let her finish last. We both smiled as we eventually crossed the finish line, pretending to be in a very tight race for not-last place.

My great memory was watching her friends hug her, cheering that she was nowhere near last, as she feared she would be.

I grabbed the last brownie on the tray and headed for home with a pounding and grateful heart.

The BOLD! Factor in action...when you feel most like quitting is precisely when you need to dig deep and keep going!

Return to Walking The Talk Index