It is a fact that two of my children compete in the sport of biathlon, a combination of cross-country skiing and rifle marksmanship. I haven’t written about our life in biathlon, but the time has come…
Biathlon is a sport that doesn’t naturally lend itself to a lot of drama. You ski well, you shoot well, or you don’t. Sunday, however, at the Canadian National Biathlon Championships in Valcartier, Quebec, I witnessed something profound, and my son Graham was a part of it.
Graham’s been competing in biathlon for six years, but this past year has seen him negotiating first-year university in Ottawa, living on his
own, academic work, training, and travelling to competitions across eastern North America almost every weekend since Christmas. With the shared goal of qualifying to compete at Nationals, he has done all this with his longtime friend and teammate, Ian.
There is a certain yin and yang to this relationship. When they go to races, Ian drives and Graham navigates. In competition, they often show up in the range at the same time. With Graham a leftie and Ian shooting right, in side-by-side lanes and wearing
identical Team Ontario race suits, they look like Spandex-clad, armed Siamese twins. In general, Ian is a better shooter and Graham is a faster skier, so more often than not, all season the two of them in their red, white and black, would be vying to see if it would be the fair one (Graham) or the dark one (Ian) who would cross the finish line first.
Even beyond biathlon, these two do a lot of things together. There is an all-you-can-eat wings outlet in Ottawa which is probably doubting the viability of its business at this point. Socially, they have come to finish each other’s sentences, and when they both won money at a race in Valcartier, they spent it all on the consumption of a wild variety of alcoholic beverages – together.
Ian’s dad, Cam, whom Graham knew well, died of cancer last July, so I like to think that this closeness has been good for both these young men. There are times when to have a buddy you can count on means a lot, and I think this past year may be equally so for both of them. They qualified for Nationals, and along the way they became independent – together.
For a lot of their races, Graham and Ian have been big fish in small ponds. They’ve enjoyed that. But Nationals is a different story. At this level, many of the athletes their age have decided to do nothing else but biathlon. They shoot, they ski, they eat, they breathe biathlon. That’s not so with these boys. And the other thing is, Graham’s shooting has been off all season. He doesn’t know why. At Nationals, they had their moments, but results-wise, they were not doing well.
Their last race Sunday morning, however, seemed to hold promise. Ian shot nine out of ten shots prone; Graham eight out of ten. Standing, however – for both of them – was a different story. They spent a lot of time doing penalty laps.
As other racers crossed the finish line, it became obvious that Ian and Graham would be competing for last and second-last. Sure enough, they emerged on the trail about half a kilometre from the finish, two red, black and white figures, Graham about five metres ahead of Ian. As they skied into the stadium area, Ian was closing in on Graham, and I expected an all-out race to the finish.
But something else happened. Graham slowed down. And as they came to the finish line, the two friends raised their inside hands and clasped them, crossing the finish line completely in step.
It was magnificent.
In that gesture, competition got thrown out the window in honour of camaraderie. The ranking of last and second last got pitched in favour of being last – together. The race lost its significance and the friendship and all that these friends have been through was magnified, honoured and acknowledged.
I am not a fan of the concept of sacrifice, in terms of atonement or otherwise, but as we approach Good Friday, the whole thing reminded me of some of Jesus’ words in the Gospel of John: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). I think I get that now. I think I will forever have an image now to attach that to.
As Graham recovered in the finish area, I blew him a kiss. He may have a clutter of medals and trophies in his possession, but I’ve never been prouder than at this race, when he came in last with his friend.