2 March, 2008
Gold Coast Triathlon – Luke Harrop Memorial
Yesterday, just before dawn - we were dragged out of bed – we loaded the car – we schlepped the camera gear for miles – we set the tripod up in the tide – and we waited… It’s easy for him. He staggers down to the sea…
he stretches a bit… (he never waves)
He tosses his tracksuit to one of us - waits for a gastric sounding horn to blow - and he dissapears into the water for a nice early morning swim. We have to gather up all the gear and race madly to another position (about a mile away) and set up the cameras again – because they refuse to swim back to the same spot.
He doesn’t even stop to chat – not even to his mother – just rushes straight past us – and goes searching for his bike. And he often has trouble finding it…
Then he rides off into the distance – leaving us all to head off in several different directions – setting up the cameras again in the forlorn hope that at least one of us will get a decent picture – or half accurate seperation times. He flashes past – no wave to anxious parents. Even when you think you’ve captured a smile – it’s actually a pained grimace. Then he gets bored with the bike – throws it aside (on a good day it gets roughly pushed onto a rack) and he runs off again – in a totally different direction. If we CAN get to the running track in time – we’re generally too knackered to get the cameras set up again.
And then it’s a mad dash to the finish line – for US. (it’s just a casual jog for him). And then he arrives – grabs the banner that someone has placed carefully across his track – and then throws it onto the ground – just like so much dirty laundry…
He’s got at least a minute and a half in which to hug his mother…
or shake my hand (before one of his mates sees him doing this emotional stuff) – but no – he hangs around waiting…
for the next bloke to come in – and then hugs HIM. He’s just spent the last 58 minutes trying to kill him – and now he hugs him!
I hate Triathlons…
But there’s going to be a lot more of them…
