In the days before Alcatraz

The motel was decorated with colorful flowers and climbing plants, but the rooms were tiny. It still had all the vintage charm of when it was built with in 1939. However, it was a bit shy on floor space once we packed it with four adults, two bikes and all their triathlon gear. We didn’t have much time to consider the challenge, however, before meeting my cousin Carrie, her boyfriend Mark, and our two roommates for dinner. We were taking Carrie out to a nice place to repay her for donating her wetsuit to me for the dreaded Alcatraz Triathlon swim, or so we thought. Instead she welcomed us all to San Francisco with traditional Kohout hospitality.

Despite going to sleep in wee hours of the morning east coast time, all four of the people in our motel room had piled into the tiny kitchen before 6am. The discussion never bothered with small talk, but jumped straight into theology and practical Christianity. That became the standard morning routine and a highlight of the trip for us all.

We met our Fellowship of Christian Athletes – Endurance (FCA-E) teammates for lunch. In the midst of getting to know one another, it became clear that two of us had missed the boat – we had not understood that we needed to enter the race online several weeks before. So we were not in the race. Suddenly the beautiful view of San Francisco bay, the Marin headlands, Alcatraz Island and Angel Island seemed to mock me. So all the training, packing and unpacking the bike, travel and preparations were for naught? Still something in me knew that it would all work out; God was still in control. But my characteristic pessimism lifted its nasty head and placed a small cloud over our US Penitentiary (USP) Alcatraz tour that afternoon.

The fascinating history and shore-to-shore relics and ruins, however, helped me put that “in its box” for a time. Army cannons, barbed wire fence, roofless brick walls and intact concrete buildings lined the steep walkway to the main prison building that had housed some of the most notorious criminals in the country. Inside the prison building stood three layers of barred cells containing the only the bare essentials. Rule #5, after all, was “you are entitled to shelter, clothing, food and medical attention. Everything else must be earned.” We each donned headphones for an audio tour that included recordings from the prison when it was active. It sounded like mayhem! Yet the wardens lived on the island and even raised their families there. According to the children, who are now grown, it was an idyllic existence. The prisoners, however, had a different perspective: they could see, hear and smell freedom daily, but couldn’t reach it. It was torturous. USP Alcatraz closed in 1963 during a push for rehabilitation for criminals, rather than punishment. Which is more effective remains under debate; several former prisoners finished their sentences and were released to become productive and upstanding members of mainstream society. No one is known to have successfully escaped from “the Rock” but three did flee the island, never to be seen again.

With that comforting thought in mind, we returned to the mainland for Dinner. Two local fellow triathletes cooked and cooked dinner for all eight teammates. We all stuffed ourselves with scrumptious salad and pasta, then accepted sufficient leftovers for a second team dinner the next evening as well. (Thanks, Klassens!) Food coma made for a good night’s sleep, though we still woke far too early for our morning kitchen counseling session.

Chris, FCA-E’s founder and national director, drove with us to the expo area. He volunteered to give me his swim spot on the relay team if I couldn’t enter the race. Though I didn’t completely feel this way, I said, “If God wants my jersey out there on the course, He’ll make it happen.” And I decided I would race the whole thing, or I’d help with the booth. The swim spot was Chris’s. We ran into the race director as soon as we got out of the car and found out he had just become a grandfather for the second time! He wouldn’t be able to see the baby until later in the week because of the race, of course, but he was excited about it. And sure, we have extra race spots for those who didn’t get signed up yet. I was ashamed that I had doubted. This race is a miniscule thing in the grand scheme of history, but God is lavish in His love, and cared even about this tiny event in the life of one tiny person (even though it was HUGE to me – I’ve wanted to do this race for years!).