Eye of the Tiger

Our hero, part man, part tiger, is aboard his trusty steed, Blackbird. The feline-equine combination race along the jungle path at blistering speeds. The tiger is on the hunt, with his senses perfectly attuned to his environment: eyes furtively darting for movement, his keen nose scours the air for the scent of prey, whiskers on edge.

It is the Lake St Louis triathlon. No mere swim, bike, run in the park, this is about redemption.

To this point all is well. The swim was longer than anticipated (tigers don't like water). Blackbird, for once, has been in a great mood. Now, our hero glides into T2, the transition from bike to run.

He quickly changes gear, and then pounces toward the exit area. He does not detect the rabbit named Jim G, who started 20 minutes beforehand, a sizable lead. Yet, some sixth sense gives him hope. He licks his lips and wipes away the sweat.

He notices that he is still wearing his bike gloves, and zounds! he has forgotten to don his race # for the run.

A rare gaffe: he turns around and heads back to T2. An abomination... It costs him 1 and 3/4 minutes.

35 minutes later, the tiger ambles along the jungle with a renewed sense of urgency, driven by his costly mistake. He may or may not have made up the time, but things are going well. The sun beats down on the rolling of hills of the affluent suburb.

Scanning the field for prey, his eyes lock onto white: a man in a white t-shirt. With a heart-rate monitor. Short, reddish hair, and a stiff, military amble.

It's him!! Incredibly, the joyous adrenalin of spotting prey sends the tiger into pure bliss. His tail flickers back and forth. His eyes widen. Again he smacks his chops.

This is going to be good. But what to do? Does he toy with his prey? Does he wait and stalk?

He decides to pounce, and before long, he strides up alongside of the rabbit. Like many animals in this situation, the rabbit has glazed eyes: fear, and an overwhelming sense that it is over. Nature has compassionately administered a powerful sedative for what is to come.

The two exchange pleasantries, as though they are not mortal enemies. They run together for a moment, and again the decision: does the tiger "hang" with the rabbit for a bit? Or does he push on, striving for total domination?

He chooses the latter. He strides past the rabbit, looking back on occasion to prevent an unlikely comeback.

It is a good day: CC 1 Jim G 1, 2006. Redemption. Domination.

ps. In fairness, Jim G had a fairly significant, though brief, bike wreck. To his credit, he generously claims that it did not affect the outcome.