THE CONCH CHRONICLES
The "Conch" experience really happened by accident and because I wanted others to suffer if I was going to suffer: In January, 1988, after spending a year trying to hunkify myself and writing about that effort extensively in The Washington Post, I finally mustered up the courage to sign up for a genuine triathlon held annually on Grand Bahama Island called the "Conch Man:" swim a mile, bike ten, run five.
Since I had a year to train, and knew virtually every minute of that training would to me be roughly equivalent in fun to dental surgery performed with barbed wire, I, on the spur of the moment, decided to invite the readers of my column to train with me, and promised them dinner on me in the Bahamas if they actually flew down and participated in the Conch Man.
At The Post we thought fifty people or so would train, and we were happy with that thought. But within ten days, over two thousand people had written me; over five hundred met with me in D.C. weeks later, and in December, over five hundred actually flew to the Bahamas and partied with me for a solid week. What a magnificent time! I've made many life-long friends out of that event.
Conchdum lurched along, progressing into four more events—by then called "Conchathons" in honor of our first event and the stately Conch, a creature that seldom moves and would drink beer if it could. We held four events over thirteen years in Washington, Grand Bahama Island, and Key West. Finally, in 1998, we held an event here in Tortola.
FURTHER CONCH CHRONICLES: If you want to know more about our quirky group, browse through these old Washington Post columns of mine which chronicle the crawl of the conch.