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send to a friend | "Ironman" by Oscar Galindez |
| Author: Oscar Galindez |
| Year: 2003 |
 I’m looking at a picture of me crossing the Ironman finish line in Hawaii, 2002.It took me 17 years to be on this picture. All these years, we’ve nourished the deepest respect for the Hawaiian Ironman, my source of inspiration. It was because of it that I fell in love with this madman sport, as spectators say it. "El deporte y el hombre" was the name of the show where I first saw images of the Hawaiian Ironman. It was the year of 1986 and I was 16, still played basketball and already knew who Mark Allen, Dave Scott, Scott Tinley and Scott Molina were. 25 years and over 50.000 triathletes worldwide dreaming with the qualification, the illusion to be mixed among another 1700 participants. Hawaiian Ironman was the beginning of triathlon in the world, and is still a demonstration of the real triathlon, the essence, the top, triathlon’s NBA. Is the glory only of those who go up the podium? 17 hours separate the start from the end of the official time to finish the challenge. The mystical island and the hostile scenario prepare to receive the dreams and illusions of over 1700 souls. The atmosphere is tense, the entire path flashes through your mind. You’re filled with doubts. The Pacific Ocean reflects the tense and concentrated faces, the eyes staring at the crystal sea. The duel is about to start. Finally, the shot is heard, the bodies mix with the fish that inhabit the sea; just like them we keep on swimming in shoals. Whirls of arms fighting for a place, the heartbeats increase, your brain screaming: You can do it!! The fleet draws the wake, we turn in the boat, just a little bit more and the least painful part will be over. The supporters absorb the tiredness, they renovate the strengths, the hostile setting becomes multicolored with the caravan of bodies and machines trying to beat the strong wind. Quadriceps swell, the knees and backs scream with pain but, just like the beat of pistons, we keep on imposing the rhythm. It is not so much to go now, illusions are reborn, the anxious and expectant faces are relived. Thousands of claps divide strengths and hearts. With your legs exhausted and the sun marks on your back, your brain insists: You can do it!! Just like gladiators, we go off to face the last 42 lions that await in hunger, to tear away, with sharp claws, the illusions of those who still fight for a place in the paradise. Let’s go!! Now it is less than before, I lie to myself, steps that I feel on my back pursue the same dreams. For a moment, my mind and my body separate, as if trying to escape from such pain, I keep on moving as if I was drunk, the despair takes over my integrity, suddenly my mind and body meet again. The only thing that matters is to arrive, to be caught by the same camera that took the picture I’m now looking at... That’s it, Ironman is poetry, the poetry that makes me live, endeavor, dream, carry on, dedicate, what for ? I ask myself. To have a place in the paradise. Congratulations Ironman!! Oscar Galindez. |