MISSION "IRRESISTABLE"

Phone rings: “Mr. TomKat, You are being tasked to be part of a crack team of “Shadow Warriors” assigned traffic detail at the Froggie Triathlon in Scottspatch. If you accept this assignment you will give up mega duckies of overtime pay and will incur the wrath of “Rubber Ducky”. This message will auto disconnect in three seconds.” I hang up quick before the phone goes up in smoke (I loose more phones that way).

Decisions; Decisions: Work…Play…Work…Play. Heck farrr!!! That one is a no brainier: “WE PLAY.”

Early the next morning the team assembles. Painter and I join up with Mad Dog, John Boy, Fly Boy, and others at the goose pond where more than 350 prime athletes had assembled for a 400 meter swim, 25 kilometer bicycle ride, and a 5 kilometer run.

The bicycle event was the second leg of the competition. Our job was simple: Protect the cyclist from highway traffic, help distressed riders, and ensure fair racing by the competitors. As the competitors left the gate we would escort groups of approximately 30 riders at a time. Only Painter had any action (helped with a flat tire). The event went smooth without any casualties except for the occasional fall when competitors disembarked their bikes.

Two things impressed me about this event. The first was the determination of the competitors of all skill levels and ages (under 10 to over 60). The exhilaration of seeing the professionals hit over 30 MPH in the stretches and the heart of the little girl whose bike was stuck in low gear (pedaling like crazy) who finished the race (last but definitely not least). The other thing was the gratitude of the competitors for the small part the Shadow Warriors played in the event. They repeatedly called us their heroes for keeping them safe. To me they were the heroes of the event because this couch potato couldn’t even start the first leg of the event, much less all three.

This event showed me that even the smallest sacrifice we make for our fellow man can and usually is appreciated by the recipient. Even if it isn’t openly recognized as it was in this case, that doesn’t negate the benefit to others.

After the event Painter and I toured the hills of Tennessee on what I call the “Road Kill Tour” (many dead critters littered the highway from deer to raccoon). We even tracked the elusive “Sport Bike”. Rounding a corner on top of skyline mountain we approached a sport bike running slow on the highway (potential road kill). We approached carefully because just like a deer they can be unpredictable. As we approached to pass, it bolted for cover. In less than 30 seconds it was gone (impressive but scary). For the next few miles I scoped the trees in the curves for signs of a missed one. Fortunately the sport bike made a clean getaway.

Arriving home at about 1630 I made the mistake of calling Rubber Ducky at her work number. She was there and she was pissed because I wasn’t there. HA If I don’t show up this afternoon there will be HELL TO PAY. But there again “Who is Afraid of the Rubber Ducky”.