The Race

Many years ago when I was an Army Sgt, I competed in a Triathlon. As the gun went off all of these huge, strong swimmers jumped over the top of me to surge to the lead. So I pulled back to let them by.

Meanwhile, I noticed a struggling soldier swimming way off course. The Lake was covered in a thick layer of fog. The only way to navigate was to follow the sound of the horn at the marked buoy. Calmly I had him swim with me back on course.

With this diversion there was no way I could win the Race. But to my surprise I received the Ft Devens Open Women Champion award. How did that happen?

Apparently the bike route was poorly marked so all of the cyclists ahead of me got lost. By the time I started riding the route markings were corrected and I took the lead.

In slowing down and guiding another triathlete, God moved me from the back to the front.

Chasing Euphoria

The plan was risky. It would be a “Deer in the headlights moment” if caught. But the drive to satisfy her craving drowned out any remaining speck of good judgment. She was all in. Oh how she loved a thrill ride. Knowing what was to come released a Manic surge of energy.

The next day, unable to return to sane thinking, she bought the ticket to her train wreck. She met two North Siders and boldly shared her plans. They listened. Colfax recruits are persuadable, if money and white are guaranteed. Now with her partner and foot soldiers riding along she felt invincible.

The recruits flirted with the Clerk at the counter of the Shell Station, and asked her to show them some of the pot pipes displayed in the glass case. That distraction gave her the chance to complete the boost. The target was the victim’s purse because Dealers tend to carry cash and dope. She reached under the counter behind the clerk’s back. There was no purse. Like a gambler reaching into his pocket to make his last desperate bet, she noticed a set of keys on the counter. On impulse she dropped them into her large boost bag and left the store.

Too bad she didn’t listen to her team begging her to cut and run. Nope, too late. She stole a Meth Dealer’s pickup truck.

The next day she was so freaked over what she had done, she made another mistake.

She confessed and wrote a three page report on herself.


“Yes!”…She thought to herself, “we are finally going to meet.” And she was delighted with her clever plan.

An outdoor basketball court. She would take the first shot, the other challenged to copy it. If both made the shot, no letter would be earned. If she made it and he missed, She earned the first letter. Then they would switch leads, it would be his turn to choose a shot. If he made it, and she missed, then he earned a letter.

So back and forth they went, alternating shots, each attempting to spell the letters “HORSE”.

Pity the Spectators trying to predict the outcome of the game.

It was obvious who had the advantage. Of course the Man would win! He was younger than her, 5’7 and 230lbs. He’d played the game his whole life. She was a petite 5’4, 154lbs, older, and female. The handicappers worked overtime.

Her first shot from the free throw was an easy bounce hitting the backboard square, and sliding neatly down through the net, barely touching the rim. His shot was a smooth follow through, delivered confidently fast. No letter yet.

With his turn to set the next shot, he ran a left handed layup that caught her breath with his skillful delivery. Clumsily, and not being fond of left handed leads, her layup matched his in success, but was clumsily delivered. Now the game was getting fun.

She stepped out into 3 point range, parallel to the hoop, turned and hurled the ball towards the rim. Only a stroke of good fortune landed that shot as it ricocheted off the glass with just the right spin, sliding down the net. He missed the follow up.

So the game went on, but after about 30 minutes it was evident that the favorite would spell HORSE first.

She was tired but thrilled. She knew he would win, after all. Winning was never her objective.

She knew he was a Player. She was just thrilled to finally meet him. The outcome didn’t matter.

She just loved horsing around.