*Author's note. Athletes who run triathlons often refer to doing so as 'tri-ing' while some use the spelling 'trying'. I prefer the former, but it's a lot easier to use the latter, so I'll be using that version in the story.
Also, the timing of the actual race in Hawaii doesn't work with the story, so I'm 'fudging' it a little. But unless you're a huge fan of the sport, you probably won't even notice. But just in case...
*****
"Tenth place is nothing to scoff at, bro."
"I'm not complaining. Not at all. It's just that I thought this would mean so much more to me than it does. That's all."
"Look. You're just reaching your prime, man. Every winner at Kona has been between 26 and 36. So finishing 10th at 27 is pretty amazing. Just keep training like you have been, and you can win this thing. If not next year then soon."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're right," he told his older brother and faithful supporter who'd stopped by to congratulate him the day after his race and his return home to Oregon.
What he didn't feel like telling him was the shift in attitude that had gradually come over him during the course of the last year or so.
Just twelve months ago, running triathlons, or 'trying' as he called it, had been his sole focus in life. He had a full-time job, but training and eating right were everything to him. But as the year wore on and his times got better and better, the satisfaction the improvements brought him seemed to lessen in direct proportion to his success. He won two lesser events and finished second in another, but each victory left him feeling more and more hollow.
For the first few months that was happening, it made no sense to him at all. But at some point, the puzzle pieces fell into place and the light came on.
And now, after having just finished a very respectable tenth place in the biggest event in the sport, The Ironman main event, held in Kona, Hawaii, it really hit him hard. He was sick and tired of living alone.
Being just 27 years old, he knew his brother, who was 32, who'd never had so much as a thought of settling down, would never understand. He'd not only not be sympathetic, he'd do everything in his power to dissuade his 'little bro' from getting too involved with anyone, because getting involved meant dividing his attention, and if he really wanted to win, his attention had to be focused like the proverbial laser beam.
The problem was that his brother, Jason, had been a superb athlete in his own right. But he'd given it all up, or as he often put it, thrown it all away—'for a girl'. A girl who sucked the life out of him for four years then left with their only child he was now lucky to see twice a year.
"Love 'em and leave, man," was his brother's mantra, and for Luke Kennerly, who still looked up to his big brother, that had always been the name of the game, too.
But lately, this overpowering need to find someone he could love, someone who would love him back and make his life complete, was demanding its day in court. In fact, the demands were becoming so loud and so constant that the energy he was expending almost constantly to fight off this growing urge was so draining it was affecting every aspect of his life. And while he couldn't know for sure, it may have been the reason he finished tenth instead of one or two places higher.
That should have not only made him angry, it should have infuriated him. But he couldn't muster two cents to give a shit with, and he knew the reason why. Granted, the winner had set a new world record, so beating him, at least at this point in his 'career', was an impossibility. But he might have shaved off another couple of minutes somewhere to take ninth place had he not been so distracted.
Or maybe, just maybe, he'd never win because the competition at that level was so unbelievably fierce it was ludicrous to think he could get there no matter how hard he trained. After all, not everyone was cut out to be a Mark Allen, the man who'd won the Ironman an unbelievable six times between 1989 and 1995.
The big question in his mind was whether he was telling himself things like that as an excuse to quit so he could focus on 'finding his soul mate', or if it was possibly his body's best way of honestly saying, "Be honest. You're never gonna get there so don't waste anymore years trying to. By...trying."
Luke not only found himself routinely obsessing about a wife and maybe even kids, he was distracted by nearly every attractive woman he saw.
The latter part of that wasn't new, because he'd always looked. After all, he was a healthy, young male who was well above average in the looks department, so that wasn't unusual. Nor was it odd that many, if not most of those women, at least looked back, with many them offering a warm (and sometimes inviting) smile or occasionally even a phone number. But for the last couple of months he'd not only been obsessively looking but wondering if virtually every reasonably-attractive woman he saw might be his future wife.
It was getting to the point where it reminded him of an episode of the original Star Trek series in which Mr. Spock had to return to his home world of Vulcan. Because of a biological drive called 'Pon Farr' that was so strong he would die if he didn't return to find a mate, Spock was ready to do anything to get there to include lying to his best friend, the captain, or taking control of the Enterprise via mutiny.
Like Spock, who refused to talk about this drive unique to Vulcan men, Luke had no desire to speak about his own internal needs for obvious reasons—not even to his brother who was still his best friend in the world. Luke was a man, and even mentioning something like that to any other man—even Jason—was something he wouldn't even consider doing. It made him feel weak and vulnerable, because guys just didn't talk about stuff like that; at least not guys like him or anyone he knew.
"So stop beating yourself up and let's go celebrate," his brother said, snapping him out of his short-lived daydream. "Tenth place in something that competitive is huge, bro."
Before Luke could answer, Jason said, "Oh. I uh, I kinda met someone, and I was wondering if you'd mind if she tags along. With me."
Luke sighed but didn't say anything. He knew Jason well enough to know that whoever this new girl was, she was almost certainly young, not real smart, and hot as hell. But it was his brother's life, and as long as he wasn't trying to set him up with another bimbo, it didn't much matter who was on his arm.
"Yeah, she uh, she kind of looked me up a few days ago," Jason said after several seconds of silence.
"Okay. I'll bite. What's the connection?"
"Hey! Don't be so cynical, dude. She's a nice girl. Her dad died a couple of years ago, and I guess her mom started running. Well—again. She said her mom used to run track in college so it's more like she went back to it. Anyway, she knew someone who knew someone who knew me from back in the day when I was trying, and she asked if I could maybe talk to her mom. You know, to go over her training routine."
"Okay. And?" Luke asked.
"Well, it isn't just running. She's started swimming, bought a reasonably decent bike and plans to enter her first triathlon in a few months. It sounds like she's really gettin' into it. Anyway, I kept blowin' this girl off until she came by the shop yesterday."
"Ah, okay. So once you saw she was a hottie, you suddenly got all interested. Yeah, now it's all starting to make sense," Luke said, only half kidding.
"So I kinda told her about my almost-famous little brother who just finished tenth at Ironman, and she uh, she seemed really interested. In you."
"No worries there, bro. As in 'bro code'. If you're interested in her she's off limits, but I'm happy to talk with her. Trying is my life, and there's nothing I'd rather talk about. Besides, if I'm talking with her, I don't have to listen to you, right?"
Jason made a 'grrr' noise then said, "Okay. Point taken. Just talk to her, will you?"
"Yeah. Sure. What time and where?" Luke asked, already feeling bad about saying triathlons were his life when all he could think about was finding...a wife.
