The Triathlon Artist | The Ink Well Prompt

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The Pollux family was among the wealthiest in the city. They owned half of the real estate properties in the state. Among them were shopping malls and apartments. So for them to fulfill any whim of their children was no sacrifice at all. That's why Fernando got everything he wanted when he became obsessed with the triathlon. A sport where three disciplines came together to create a superhuman challenge.

Fernando was an 18-year-old boy. Due to his family's good economic position, his white skin glowed at a glance, in addition to possessing well-groomed curly hair. His brown eyes were fierce products of the different sports he had practiced since childhood, the discipline was reflected in his eyes, as well as the decision to earn a place in sports history. And yes, the boy possessed an athletic body almost sculpted by the gods.

However, despite his parents' money, he was not able to surpass the elites, nor to enter the qualifiers of any sport. He didn't stand out.

"I want the best trainers!" he demanded every dinner from his father.

His father, a renowned executive, sighed in disgust.

"I guess you mean now for getting you the best triathlon coach in the country," he ate his dinner with boredom. "Son, I got him for you and you fired him after a month. Let me remind you."

"He wasn't the best!" Fernando showed his frustration, but when he spoke he couldn't put his thoughts together. "He wasn't the best. He just bragged about his achievements over and over again, he didn't focus on my training, he just collected his salary...

Fernando spits out his food as he choked. His face was angry.

"Another show-off?" his sister Ana asked amused. "Oh, daddy! The boy doesn't realize that he is also a show-off and needs some humility."

Fernando glared at his older sister Ana, just for a year. She was an angelic being with her porcelain face, but when she laughed a devilish side shone through. Fernando hated that smile.

"Dad has a lot of money, but I feel it's a waste of time," Ana finished eating and wiped herself with her napkin. She snapped her fingers to call for the plate to be picked up. "It's just my opinion, brother and father," her obnoxious smile flashed masterfully. "And don't try to change sports, little brother."

Fernando turned red with anger. He wanted to answer her, but he knew he had lost the battle. Besides, she was right. He looked at her with hatred as he watched her disappear into the hallway.

"Your sister is right, Fernando," the master of the house also left, but not before adding, "Don't even think of switching to boxing, or I don't know, to professional climbing. That's 10 sports, son" his look was one of discouragement. "I promised on your mother's death to indulge them, but you've gone too far."

There Fernando stood, giving up on getting what he wanted. However, he already had another plan in mind. To train on his own.

...

In two months Fernando felt no improvement. He went to the gym for strength training, swam 5 km in a row, and went out cycling on his latest model triathlon bike. The results in competitions said it all, he didn't have the talent.

As he was about to throw in the towel, he noticed someone watching him closely. Fernando detected Neño's invalid, a man who went to the public cycling stadium in the afternoon, just at the time he was practicing. Feeling annoyed, he decided to take it out on the man.

“What are you looking for, young man?" the man did not move from his place.

As Fernando approached, he felt a burst of energy coming from the invalid. He could see that he was a poor person, although clean. From a distance, he looked dirty and grimy, but even his black beard was neat. His bushy eyebrows exuded wisdom, his thin, stooped build from the inclemencies of life clashed greatly with the look he gave Fernando. He was a warrior like him.

“Did you miss something, boy? There was aggression in Ñeno's voice. “Is a child of the high bureaucracy mute?

All intention of starting a fight had vanished. Fernando detected the book on the invalid's legs. On the cover, the letters "Triathlon for Dummies" stood out.

“What's he doing reading that?" Although he didn't want to fight, Fernando said with disdain.

“Because I can't run, I can't read without an imbecile like you telling me I can't read" The man didn't move, but his words were intoned to fight. “Of course, since he can't run a decent cadence! Nor can he change his exercise routine, or that he doesn't know anything about the triathlon either” Every sentence he said overwhelmed Fernando.

His spirit was reduced. Nevertheless, his pride was still standing.

“What do you know, you old invalid?" The boy's eyes looked at the powerful gentleman. “I don't see him fit to even run 42 km.

Old Ñeno laughed loudly.

“Even you can't do that," the book almost fell as he laughed, but he caught it in mid-air. “Your strides are too wide, I wouldn't be surprised if you had an injury from time to time. You also need some adjustments to the bike frame, as well as the saddle for a more aerodynamic riding position. Right now your back must be complaining to the four winds” the man licked his lips, euphoric. “And I haven't seen you swim yet.”

Something was cooking in Fernando's mind.

“What do you know?" he said to make sure of something.

Mr. Ñeno snorted in amusement.

“For years I was a trophy winner, mommy and daddy's boy," he almost spat as he spoke. “I grew up watching triathlon, I practiced triathlon...” something I didn't want to say why I look at the book. “Now I just read Triathlon!”

The boy made the decision.

...

Another six months passed.

A commentator of the competition to classify to the nationals was saying:

There goes Fernando Pollux! The boy is unstoppable. Fifth in the open water stage, third in the cycling stage, but he is going for first place. He is competing with Alfonso Alvarez in the first place.

This is an impressive competition, gentlemen. Two kilometers to go, but it feels like these two guys are leaving it all on the road.

The rookie is about to beat one of the best in the country by five years. No less was expected from the Triathlon Artist, the elder Ferrer who had disappeared after the fatal accident in one of his routine training runs. However, despite his disability, he has managed to get a worthy successor.

Even I want the boy to win! He conveys to me the true spirit of the triathlon.

Gentlemen, I want to cry!

500 meters to go! 300 meters to go! And the newbie has pulled away from Alvarez...

He's finishing strong!

And he's won! The boy has won!

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Cover and Banner made in Canva, Cover image of Canva; Separators made in Photoshop

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