MARIANNA, FL (Reuters) – Miraculously defying the limits of human physical strength, endurance, and middle age, first-time participant Brian Peacock of Tallahassee survived the annual Freedom Springs Triathlon while a huge throng of well-wishers cheered him on. (Ed: most of the crowd was comprised mainly of Mr. Peacock’s own seventeen, or so, children.)

The triathlon, a competitive event which includes swimming, biking, and running, is considered to be a true test of an athlete’s ability and desire.  Before such a grueling event, most competitors engage in long periods of rugged training and adhere to highly specialized diets.

Following the harrowing experience, Peacock, a less than optimal example of health and physical prowess, said, “I really worked hard to prepare for this event. I cut back to one RC Cola and Moonpie a day and I trained daily for almost half an hour over the course of three days.  I wish I could have done more, but with all those dang kids running around, it’s hard to find the time.”  Peacock’s preparation included biking in the dark, swimming with an alligator, and walking as swiftly as he could.  “I’ve had twelve surgeries, mostly for bunions and plastic surgery to correct some unfortunate hair loss issues, but one or two were performed on my knees, so running was never an option.”  (Ed: one of the “knee” surgeries was to remove an unsightly mole.)

The Freedom Springs trial began with all competitors (ages ranged from ten to over ninety) in the water.  When the gun went off, two hundred finely-tuned athletes struck out on leg one of the triathlon, a quarter mile swim.   Mr. Peacock, fresh off a triumphant grudge match with lifelong nemesis Cletus Bodkin, whom he’d encountered in a local pool while training, appeared confident until his head was almost immediately pushed under the water by a small child who appeared to be looking for a wayward beach ball.  Later Peacock remarked, “I don’t know what that dang kid was doing in the water.  He wasn’t even in the race.  I was going to teach him a lesson until I realized it could have been one of my own kids. I mean, with so many of them running around, I kind of lose track. Besides, I’d been in the water for almost two minutes and I simply didn’t have the strength to fight back.  Luckily, there was a floating buoy nearby and I clung to it like life itself.”  After a fitful rest, Peacock was egged on by the gallery ashore to continue.  “At that point,” Peacock later said, “I considered withdrawing, but when I saw the faint trail of blue hair dye in the water, streaming back from a contingent of the Ladies’ Auxiliary who were swimming fifty yards ahead of me, it was like the yellow brick road, only blue, and I knew I had to go on.”

The second stage of the race was biking, requiring participants to exit the water, don shoes, and mount their bikes as quickly as possible.  Most racers easily made the transition; Mr. Peacock had some difficulty finding his shoes.  “This was all new to me,” he told reporters at the post-race news conference, “At home, I usually just throw my clothes into strategic piles and wear whatever smells the least.  I lost a lot of time trying to find my dang shoes.”  Fortunately for Peacock, there weren’t many shoes or bikes to search since all but two other competitors had already left the transition area.  Ninety-two year old Gus Melba told reporters, “I saw that idiot looking around for his shoes.  If I hadn’t stopped to help some kid find a beach ball, I’d have been long gone by then.  My own fault.”

The bike leg started badly for Peacock as he appeared to have difficulty pedaling.  “I made a strategic decision to save time in the transition by not having to look around for a change of clothes in a strategically placed pile.  My Speedo was still wet from the water and I kept slipping off the banana seat.”  Onlookers gasped when Peacock stopped ten yards into the ride to adjust the clothespins holding what appeared to be a full deck of playing cards against the spokes.  In the press tent later, Peacock addressed his lack of preparation.  “In retrospect, my choice of bike really hurt my chances, but I liked the tassels hanging from the handlebar grips, and I thought the flowery basket would be a good place to put my energy bar and sports drink.  Unfortunately, someone took my dang Moonpie and RC cola while I was in the water so the basket was simply windage that really held me back.”

Fate smiled on Peacock during the bike ride since he had the tire tracks of nearly every competitor to follow along the way.  Able to make his way to the second and final transition station, where the racers switched from bikers to runners, Peacock encountered only minor difficulties when his Speedo got stuck on the front of the bike’s banana seat during his spirited dismount.  “I was nearly ‘pantsed’ by that dang seat.”  The crowd, which had long since left to watch the finish, was spared the view of Peacock’s buttocks.  Peacock’s long-suffering wife had walked to the transition station while Peacock rode his bike was there to see the spectacle.  “Oh, Gawd,” she gasped.  “What an idiot.”

On his feet at last, Peacock lit out on the final leg of the triathlon, a three and half mile run.  Unsure of which way to go (there were no fellow racers to follow, all having departed long before), Peacock asked his bride to give him a hint.  “That way,” pointed his spouse.  “And hurry up.  I haven’t had a thing to eat but a Moonpie and an RC cola almost an hour ago.  I’m hungry.”  Peacock gamely headed off, walking at his normal training pace which periodically reached a single digit.  “I was very disappointed with my performance at that point,” Peacock later told ESPN.  “Despite minutes of arduous training before the event, I think my lack of experience really came back to bite me.  I could have placed my strategically placed piles more strategically and my choice of a dang child’s bike may have cost me some time.”

Halfway through his run while approaching a slight incline, Peacock peered over its crest and spotted a fellow competitor just ahead.   “At that point, my hard work was finally starting to pay off,” Peacock said.  “I had made up a lot of time and I was back on my plan.  I’m not a sprinter and I knew if I just stuck with it, I’d beat someone.”  That someone turned out to be seventy-one year old Gladys Garwhipple, returning to the triathlon circuit after double hip replacement surgery.  Gladys told reporters, “I saw that idiot coming up from behind.  I decided there was no way some first-timer was gonna beat me at my own game.  I shouted back to him, ‘Bring it ON, Speedo boy’ and put the throttle fully forward on my wheel chair.”

The mano-a-granny competition really heated up as Peacock gained slowly on Gladys’ position over the course of a mile.  As he approached, Peacock appeared fatigued; increasing his pace to catch Gladys was beginning to take its toll on his body.  “My knee was starting to really itch from a bug bite I got during the bike ride.  I lost focus for a moment, dang it,” he said later.

There were no witnesses to the match between Peacock and Garwhipple and their accounts of what transpired were at odds.  Sorting out the situation in the scoring tent later, officials took statements from each participant before declaring Garwhipple had finished ahead of Peacock.  Speaking on condition of anonymity, a senior race official told the BBC, “Gladys said Peacock kept trying to hug her.”