Discovering the Extraordinary                     Within the Ordinary

A fellow photographer friend, Ed Johnson, took this photo during an iron man competition this past weekend. Not often do you see a tandem bike in such a competition, but leave it to Ed to find the unusual. Even his approach to shooting the competition was unusual. Most of us seek to photograph the spirited competition among the leaders within the event. Ed's strategy for photographing the competition was to concentrate on the contestants who were staging at the middle and proceeding toward the rear. His strategy makes sense if you believe that we sometimes bring or assign a story to our photos by the way we capture them.

Ed's curiosity concerning the tandem bike entry into the iron man prompted him to share this photo with a regional newspaper. From this news contact, he learned that the athlete in the rear seat is blind. He is supplying the power to the pedals while his friend steers the bike. During the river swim portion and throughout the run, he was tethered to his friend. In total, this pair covered more than seventy-one miles this day. They didn't win any trophies, but they finished the competition. This photo was possible because Ed made a conscious decision to photograph those who wouldn't be photographed and cheered at the finish line. It was his way to shine a light on those who compete but never find the public spotlight.  

This ordinary photo holds value for its extraordinary story from at least two perspectives. From the perspective of the blind athlete, he entered this contest knowing he would not win any trophy, but he would gain great satisfaction from finishing. What kind of courage does it take to enter a contest knowing that winning is not likely, participation is demanding, but standing on the sidelines is not an option?

From the friend's perspective, he had the advantage of sight. He, too, had to be an elite athlete to do an ironman event. In fact, he had to be at least as good and likely a better athlete than his friend. His participation as a friend was an act of pure selflessness—a rare commodity these days.   

Some of the photos we take are not stellar by photographic standards, but they hold extraordinary worth because they help us learn a beautiful story. Sometimes that story comes serendipitously, as if it had a plan of its own for us to follow. I have said many times that the people we meet through photography are one of the greatest joys of the hobby, and the stories we learn from them motivates us to see life through the viewfinder more clearly and to embrace our photography with greater passion.

Life is a journey, not a competition.