Black ink tattoo of three triathlon pictograms, a swimmer, a cyclist and a runner, stacked vertically on the upper arm near the shoulder.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Triathlon pictograms on the upper arm

Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

Three simple stick-figure pictograms sit one above another on the skin: a swimmer above wavy lines, a cyclist on a bicycle, and a runner. The linework is solid black and of even weight, with simple curves and no shading. The image is a close crop of a fair-skinned upper arm against a plain background, with the tattoo as the clear focus.

Upper arm Stick figure Wave

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Tom,

Keep reading

The marrow bed has finally given up its last slugs, and I have stopped pretending I'm not glad of it. Your mother says you've signed up for that triathlon out at Bramley Water, the one with the little men on the signs. I laughed at that, then went out to the shed and found the stencil your grandad cut for the village fête in 1979.

It's a stick man with a wave under him, then a man on a bike with his knees up like a grasshopper, then a man running flat out. He cut them from a sheet of card because the council wouldn't pay for proper signs, and we pinned them to the allotment gate so people could find the pond. Nobody ever swam in the pond. Your grandad used to say the bike man was the only one who looked like he was enjoying himself.

I've kept the stencil wrapped in a tea towel behind the seed trays. I've traced it onto the back of an old packet of runner beans, so you can take it with you. Put it somewhere you'll see when you're tired, not when you're winning. The swim is the bit everyone dreads, and the run is what you do once the bike has finished with you.

Ring me the night before. Tell me which of the three figures you feel like being that day.

Love, Auntie Vi

P.S. The beans have come up crooked, which is exactly how your grandad planted them.