Losing the Race, Winning the Lesson

⏱️ 15 min read             

You're exhausted, legs burning, and you're dead last in a triathlon. Your 16-year-old son is watching from the sidelines. All you want is to prove you're not a total failure. But what if crossing that finish line, no matter how far behind, wasn’t about winning at all? I’ll be sharing the surprising lesson someone learned from coming in last—and why sometimes, not giving up is the real victory. 

Welcome to That's Life, I Swear. This podcast is about life's happenings in this world that conjure up such words as intriguing, frightening, life-changing, inspiring, and more. I'm Rick Barron your host. 

That said, here's the rest of this story 

What I’m about to share with you stems from a book written by A.J. Jacob. The name of the book is ‘The Year of Living Constitutionally’. A passage from the book talks about the wonderful feeling of finishing last in a Triathlon. That’s correct, you heard me right. However, I’m getting ahead of my story.

Shall we start?

AJ Jacob’s ambition was modest when he enrolled in a triathlon that summer. Far from aspiring to victory or even a respectable placement within his age bracket, his sole objective was to avoid the humiliation of finishing last.

AJ could tolerate being the last competitor, but being the final participant to cross the finish line filled him with dread. The prospect of enduring ridicule as the recipient of the proverbial booby prize haunted him. Memories of a childhood embarrassment resurfaced in his head when signing up for the triathlon. It was a time when he received a participation trophy in fifth grade; the same day, he had an unfortunate accident when he peed in his pants during a game of Newcomb ball and unsuccessfully tried to conceal it.

This time, the stakes felt even higher as he participated alongside his teenage son, Zane. The thought of appearing as a complete failure in his child's eyes was too much to bear. AJ was determined to prove himself capable, if not exceptional, in this athletic endeavor.

Now, AJ was far from athletic. His exercise routine consisted of typing emails while strolling on a treadmill, and he found intense cardiovascular activities thoroughly unappealing. Participating in any form of race seemed beyond his capabilities. However, that summer brought unexpected changes.

Prompted by his wife's concern for his health and spurred by his son's ambitious suggestion, he found himself contemplating an endeavor he'd never imagined: a triathlon. The son's enthusiastic proposal left the father feeling cornered; declining seemed unthinkable, lest it convey the wrong message.

Determined to follow through, AJ scoured the internet for an appropriate event. His search led him to the Mattapoisett Lions Club's Triathlon in Massachusetts, about a four-hour drive from their New York apartment. The event, scheduled a few weeks away, seemed like a manageable goal.

In truth, the triathlon he discovered was far from the grueling test of endurance typically associated with such events. Marketed as a "sprint triathlon," it was, in fact, the minimum distance to qualify for the triathlon designation. The course comprised a modest quarter-mile swim, a 12-mile bike ride, and a three-mile run.

AJ and his son had but a month to prepare for their upcoming challenge. Zane was already in good form from his high school athletics and had a head start. On the other hand, AJ struggled to adapt to a more active lifestyle. He reluctantly circled the Central Park reservoir a handful of times and managed to squeeze in a few swimming sessions at the local Jewish Community Center.

The night before the event, AJ and his son hopped into the family car and made the journey to the race location. As they maneuvered their bicycles towards the staging area, AJ felt a wave of unease wash over him. As he looked around a sea of athletic physiques surrounded him, their muscles clearly defined and toned. The array of high-tech gear was overwhelming - from moisture-wicking socks to buoyant wetsuits and an abundance of specialized energy supplements. The level of preparation exhibited by the other participants was intimidating.

Trying to quell his rising anxiety, AJ attempted to reassure himself. Surely, he reasoned, there must be others in the crowd who were equally unprepared, or perhaps even less so. He found himself hoping for the presence of someone recovering from a recent injury to feel less out of place.

As the race began, competitors entered the Atlantic Bay in pairs. The shock of the frigid water caught AJ off guard. 

When entering the cold water, cold receptors very close to the surface of AJ’s skin sensed that his skin had cooled quickly. He felt an initial gasp, followed by rapid, uncontrollable breathing and an increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

He asked himself, ‘why am I doing this?’

AJ watched his son quickly pulled ahead with powerful freestyle strokes, while he found himself resorting to breaststroke after a brief attempt at a more efficient style. Despite his struggle, AJ managed to navigate around the final buoy and return to shore. Though he found himself in the latter half of the pack, he was relieved to note that he wasn't in last place. Yes, I’m doing this!

AJ transitioned to the cycling phase, hastily donning his helmet before embarking on the rolling back-road course. A chorus of "On your left!" echoed in his ears for the next thirty minutes as fellow competitors zipped past. Though the overtaking cyclists attempted to maintain a neutral tone, he couldn't help but detect a hint of satisfaction in their voices as they surged ahead.

After completing the 12-mile ride, AJ guided his bicycle through the checkpoint sensors. While his position in the pack had slipped further, he felt relief that several participants still trailed behind him.

The race's final leg - the run - proved to be the most challenging for AJ. With no equipment to aid him, he was left to rely solely on his own two feet and determination. As he walked heavily along, with an expression of pain on his face and panting, other runners continued to overtake him. Yet, he clung to the knowledge that he wasn't in last place. A glance over his shoulder revealed an older woman, appearing to be in her seventies, struggling just as much as he was. He silently vowed to maintain his lead over her, focusing on keeping his legs in motion. ‘I can take her’, AJ said to himself.

However, as the race entered its final mile, the sound of rapid footsteps approaching from behind shattered his resolve. The woman in her seventies had found an unexpected burst of energy. Bewildered, he wondered if some secret energy supplement fueled her sudden resurgence. He watched helplessly as she surged past him, disappearing around a bend in the course, leaving him to contemplate the possibility of finishing last after all.

Feeling a sense of absolute exhaustion, AJ found himself in a solitary struggle during the race's final stretch. The course had largely emptied, save for a few persistent spectators who continued to offer encouragement with well-intentioned but patronizing cheers of "You got this!" accompanied by the mind-numbing clanging of cowbells. Despite his fatigue, AJ stubbornly refused to surrender to walking, even though his current pace - a labored approximation of running - was likely slower than a brisk walk.

Adding to his discomfort was the presence of a four-wheeled reminder of his predicament: the official triathlon ambulance. It trailed just behind AJ, a constant companion ready to intervene should he collapse, its proximity was a stark reminder of his position in the race.

When he finally crossed the finish line, the bitter realization hit him: he had placed dead last, 121st out of 121 participants. His son was there to capture the moment on his iPhone, offering a congratulatory embrace. However, AJ’s emotions were a tumultuous mix of embarrassment and frustration.

To salvage his pride, he launched into a litany of excuses. He complained about mechanical issues with his bike, problems with his swim goggles, and took issue with the relay format some participants had used. In his agitated state, he argued that dividing the events among team members wasn't in the true spirit of a triathlon. 

As he continued to suck over his performance, his mind churned with a cocktail of disappointment, self-justification, and lingering resentment. His fixation on finishing last overshadowed the triumph of completion, leaving him trapped in a cycle of frustration and excuses.

As the day progressed, AJ’s perspective began to shift. The initial sting of his last-place finish gradually subsided, replaced by an unexpected sense of accomplishment. Perhaps it was the effect of the celebratory champagne or the heartfelt words of his son, expressing joy at their shared experience regardless of the outcome. Whatever the catalyst, his earlier mortification had transformed into an unconventional pride by the time they returned to New York that evening.

In a remarkable feat of mental reframing, he began to view his performance in a new light. He convinced himself that his true achievement lay not in his ranking but in his refusal to give up. The fact that he had completed the course became a source of triumph. He no longer saw himself as a loser but as a bonafide triathlete and a positive example for his son.

AJ reflected on the qualities he had demonstrated: persistence and resilience. He decided these were far more valuable lessons for his child than any arbitrary ranking. He told himself that he had shown Zane the importance of effort over outcome, of perseverance in the face of adversity.

Moreover, AJ began to reinterpret the nature of the competition itself. Rather than a race against other participants, he now viewed it as a personal challenge - a test of his limits and determination. This shift in perspective allowed him to find meaning and victory in what had initially seemed like defeat.

In this new narrative AJ had constructed, finishing last was no longer a source of shame but a testament to his character and a valuable life lesson shared with his son. The triathlon had become a physical challenge and a transformative experience in perception and self-worth.

As the dust settled on the day's events, AJ reflected on the broader implications of their shared experience. His son's performance had been commendable, securing a respectable mid-pack finish. Far from feeling threatened by his child's superior athletic ability, AJ reveled in it. He found himself perplexed by tales of parents who felt diminished by their offspring's talents; in contrast, he took genuine pleasure in being outperformed by his child.

Upon further contemplation, AJ saw a certain nobility in his last-place finish. He drew a parallel to the Tour de France, where the final finisher is awarded the Red Lantern, a symbol of perseverance and determination. This comparison lent a new significance to his position in the race.

As AJ pondered the day's events, he realized his own strengths. While he might not excel in swimming, cycling, or running, he could reframe narratives. This skill, he mused, could be more valuable in life than raw athletic talent.

AJ’s capacity to transform a seemingly disappointing outcome into a story of triumph and personal growth was a form of victory. This ability to find meaning and positivity in challenging situations, he realized, was a powerful tool - one that could serve him well beyond the confines of any race course.

Ultimately, the triathlon had become more than just a physical challenge. It had evolved into an exercise in perspective, resilience, and the power of positive reinterpretation. AJ’s journey from last place to a place of pride demonstrated that sometimes, the most significant victories are won not on the race course but in the mind. 

What can we learn from this story? What's the takeaway?

AJ finished the race! He proved he was not a loser. After all, he was a triathlete and a role model for is son! Persistence and resilience that’s what he displayed. He demonstrated to Zane that not winning is OK if you try your hardest. Additionally, he wasn’t racing against others, he was racing against myself.

Well, there you go, my friends; that's life, I swear

For further information regarding the material covered in this episode, I invite you to visit my website, which you can find on Apple Podcasts/iTunes for show notes and the episode transcript.

As always, I thank you for the privilege of you listening and your interest. 

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