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Ironic as it may be, this test of fitness and endurance we will witness in today’s triathlon in the Back Mountain grew from a late-night discussion in a bar.

I was there along with several friends but, like much of the 1980s, some nights are a blur. My recollection over the years was that we were at a tavern called “Monty’s” in Luzerne, just off the Dallas highway.

My late friend Rusty Flack, whose mental acuity for long ago facts exceeded mine, said we were at Uptown. I loved watching him feign a slow-burning temper tantrum to correct me when I said “Monty’s” was the birthplace of the Back Mountain Triathlon.

“Uptown,” he would growl.

He was correct but I could not give him any quarter.

Someone will be missed here in the recreation of that night and the group involved. I know Lee Turner was there and so were Steve Alinikoff and Dr. Harry Reich. Someone knew we needed a person who knew endurance events and had an eye and knack for detail. Tim Bauman was our man.

We were discussing our amazement at the strenuous challenge of the Ironman Race and its fitness-fanatical contestants when someone said a shorter, easier version was still called a triathlon and was an event where we could compete.

Many of us were runners. Hardly anyone had ever cycled seriously, and a few of us had at one time been competitive swimmers. No one in the group had ever attempted all three.

“Triathlon?” someone asked to no one in particular. “Where can we find one?”

No one knew.

“Let’s start our own,” said a voice among the din of bar noise.

We all agreed this would be a splendid idea, one sounding particularly keen at midnight in a bar.

I said The Times Leader would sponsor the event.

And so, 30 years ago the local triathlon began. We fumbled our way through the first one with many of us competing. The bicycle course was extremely demanding. The swim, at a mile, was too long. We started the race with the swim and everyone standing together at the beach at Harveys Lake with no placings for ability or predicted times. The gun went off at that first race and several competitors never made it or barely made it to the water before being trampled by the crowd. Luckily there were no injuries. Now, the best athletes are at the front.

Bill Ruth of Bethlehem won both the first race and the second one. In the latter he had an accident not far from the Misericordia campus and carried his bike to the transition area where the run began. Injured with a leg wound, he took off on the run segment and defended his first title with another win.

Nearly everyone in my group from the bar who competed now claims to have beaten all of the others in the first two. None of us bothers to check the official results from those years to be certain. Dreams die hard.

One of my personal favorite stories from the first triathlon involves my friend, Lee Turner, who was among those I trained with that summer. He was an experienced runner, especially compared to me. He also thought he was a better swimmer, but did not realize I had been swimming early mornings all winter at the YMCA with a group from The Times Leader. In that group was reporter Jane Adonizio, who also competed in several of the triathlons. She went on to be an area television personality.

On race day Turner and I drove to Harveys Lake together and placed our bicycles next to one another in stands. He expected that was the last time he would see me until he greeted my arrival at the finish line.

We entered the lake side-by-side and I saw him fall behind as we raced. He had lost sight of me.

Turner emerged from the swim confident he had beaten me.

When he arrived at the spot where we placed our bikes, mine was gone.

“Poor Richard,” he said he muttered. “Someone stole his bike.”

He is the only person I am certain I finished ahead of from our group.

My second funniest memory involves the planning group for the first two triathlons.

We met on the third floor of The Times Leader offices and on this day in particular we were meeting over lunch. Several of us had realized after the first race that we had no earthly idea what we were doing. After two years, several things seemed obvious: We needed to shorten the swim and, perhaps, the run, and the bicycle course needed revisiting. Most were in agreement on these points.

However, one of the committee members, Steve Alinikoff, objected strongly to any changes in the original course.

“You’ll ruin its integrity,” he said in a somber tone, as if invoking a threatened change in the U.S. Constitution. “I won’t stand for it.”

Lee Turner barely stopped chewing but looked up from his sandwich to say a decision had been made and it was final.

“Steve,” he deadpanned. “It’s over.”

Defending the purity of the original idea and the course design, Alinikoff rose from the table and threw down his napkin.

“I quit then,” he said.

It’s a scene that still causes the original group to convulse with laughter.

Occasionally I tell someone I used to compete in triathlons. I always notice the cast-away glance of disbelief.

I still marvel when I see Wilkes-Barre’s Con McCole. He was in the first race and has participated in every one of them for 30 years. His daughter will race today as well. Most of the rest of us, however, are gimpy with rebuilt knees and new hips and a variety of other maladies time has wrought. We’ve fallen apart and our shadows of our old running, biking and swimming selves.

Hell, several in the group from that initial late night bar discussion do not even drink any longer.

Many things, other than our aching and old bodies, have changed over the years. The distances of the race changed. The numbers of racers expanded and then contracted. Professional triathletes at one time competed in greater numbers. The list of variables over the years goes on and on.

One aspect has not changed.

The organization that Bauman helped piece together has held together – fitted as tightly as joints connecting two sections of pipe. Volunteers and the many local families that have hosted visiting athletes continue to abound. Some of them, such as Dave and Lisa Daris, come from that original Times Leader family that sponsored and helped produce the first triathlon 30 years ago. They are out there today volunteering, as they always have been.

When the idea was hatched that night, many of us had a vision for the triathlon that was clearer and brighter in the morning light. We wanted a race that would attract people from all over the country and we wanted them to see the vast natural beauty of this area and feel the warmth of friendship of our people.

Imperfect and impure as the setting was for a physical endurance event, that night at the bar paved the way for an event that in fact has achieved our vision. Competitors far and wide constantly agree that this race stands out among all others for the wonderful course and even more so from the hospitality and friendliness of our people.

The Times Leader is back as a sponsor this year and we could not be prouder.

Psst. And, by the way, here’s a secret: I beat all of my friends in both of the first two races, prior to my carefully planned retirement from competition.