The Anthem of Us All

My breathing matches the rhythmic beat of the heartbeat music sounding over the speakers. Badum—I breath in; an eternity of two seconds pass in silence—badum—I breath out. The warm dirty water lay three feet or so beneath the pontoon that seventy-five athletes stand on; it rocks gently back and forth from the audible force of the water lapping against it. Seventy-five elite athletes and hundreds of spectators all gather around, and yet it’s as if none are there at all—not a whisper is audible, save the periodic drum of the heartbeat music and the hypnotic slap of the water against the dock we stand on. In the midst of the calm before the storm, it’s difficult not to lose oneself in the peaceful silence; to not become one with the hypnotic rhythm of the moment. To my left stands Darr Smith, an already accomplished professional triathlete, and…