A SINGLETON ON LESBOS ISLAND - Part 8
By Alfie Penguin
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Day Seven: Woke looked at myself in the mirror, looking good, feeling confident. Made my way to the restaurant thinking energy foods, by the time I had sat down it had changed to a bad boy fry up, with gallons of tea. The doctor came over and said, “I see you are taking this triathlon seriously then,” just because doctors walk around all day wearing a white coats, they think they know everything.
After breakfast I made my way to the resort lobby to register for the race, afterwards I pinned my entrance number to my chest and got myself to the beach for the start of the triathlon. It consisted of canoeing, a run, and then six lengths of the pool. We had to pair up for the two man canoes, luckily Iron Man was standing by the side of me, so I managed to grab hold of him before any one else.
The race started with Iron Man and me taking the lead paddleing to Paxo’s Tavarna first, where each of us had to down a larger before returning back to the resort. We made it back in first place, in transition whilst bending over to put my running shoe on, Iron Man managed to kick sand in my face, then Triathlon Girl managed to repeat the act, whilst I was putting on the other trainer, then both wished me luck as they sprinted off.
Up and running, I followed the race signs which lead to the Village Tavarna, where we once again had to down a larger before continuing, no sand in the face this time. Continued to follow the signs, Oh shit we were heading for Cardiac Hill, as I began climbing the rest of the runners started to trickle pass me.
One by one as they passed me they wished me luck until Lettuce Man was along side me, he asked me, “How you doing,” I replied “I’m good just pacing myself.” I asked him the same, to which he replied, “No sore derriere this time.” I said, “Good, good luck,” as he ran on.
Realising I was the last competitor I knew I was in trouble I wasn’t going to make it round the course, then I remembered at the next bend was Ray the Rave’s bike hidden in the bushes, where he had his heart attack. I climbed on the bike and rolled back down the hill then onto the resort, leaving the bike at the bike hut.
Whilst walking to my room, on the way people started saying, “Well done, keep going!” until I got to the pool where everyone started cheering and clapping me.
Then I realised they all thought I was leading the race. Well I just got caught up with it all and dived in the pool, swimming the six lengths. As I climbed out of the pool, the resort manager shook my hand saying, “Congratulations, well done!” I then had to explain to him I had dropped out of the competition, and was only returning Ray the Rave’s bike.
The manager thanked me for returning the bike, and made his way to the P.A. system, where he broadcast a message to the spectators. Stating that there had been a mix up, and that Billie boy was not the winner of the triathlon, but was only returning Ray the Rave’s bike.
As I was drying my self off, the doctor came over to me laughing and asked me what happened, I replying “I started at a too fast a pace and just burned myself out on Cardiac Hill.” She then gave me a playful kiss and said, “You’re a winner to me.”
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