The 2nd Starting Line
I am a Triathlete. The experience was nothing short of amazing and true to form, I want to tell you all about it.
A few of my teammates live more than an hour from the race location and thus were invited to stay with me and my family Saturday night. All athletes were asked to have a good dinner and head to bed around 8pm. Coach clarified the concept of ‘carb loading’ and stated that science hadn’t really confirmed the validity of that practice for athletes. Coach Kim might not be able to confirm the validity of carb loading, but I sure can. I am ½ Italian and my people have been honoring this practice for centuries. Carb loading to us simply means that our Chinet plates are loaded with pasta, bread, and cannoli’s as often as possible… births, Baptisms, weddings, anniversaries, deaths, unexpected guests, Godfather reruns, Columbus Day, etc.
Early in my training, I invited my favorite triathloner and friend, Glenn, out for coffee to pick his brain on all things triathlonie. We got to the topic of food and I earnestly inquired as to the snacks I should pack for the Tri. After confirming that I was participating in a “sprint” Triathlon, he gently explained that a good breakfast and one pack of Gu should be enough. He assured me that I’d be done in a couple of hours and that my body could manage on my Raisin Bran fuel for that amount of time. “Humph”, I thought, how could that be when I typically need a snack by the second commercial break of a Friends rerun?
My teammates and I, opted for a light dinner and a few snacks on race eve. We aimed for a 9pm rest time…actual sleeping would be a stretch. By far, the best part of the evening was learning more about the women I’ve trained with for months.
At the start of this project, I made several assumptions about the members of Team Phoenix 2019. I assumed we all had breast cancer. I assumed we were all ‘done’ with cancer. I assumed I’d be one of the youngest team members. I assumed that we’d display a span of athletic abilities. I got one out of 4 correct. At age 52, I was one of the oldest members of this team of 57 women. Some of the women diagnosed were almost half of my age. Half! I was saddened by my diagnosis…but could be nothing short of furious about theirs. Several of my teammates were in the midst of treatment during our training and a few would continue treatment well past the triathlon date. All were living, thus training and competing, with the debilitating side effects of surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy.
Team Phoenix has built 323 athletes within the years 2011 – 2019. The oldest participant was 69 ½ years and the youngest …only 26. Originally, the program aimed to help patients with breast cancer but now includes patients battling a spectrum of cancers: Breast, Brain, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Ductal Carcinoma In Situ, Colon, Gall Bladder, Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, Ovarian, Endometrial, etc. In 2019, the 60 athlete spots sold out in one week. I finished radiation on the eve of the 2019 team kickoff and thus think I might have been the last registrant for this season. That day, I wrapped up my 5-week daily radiation routine and headed to a follow-up appointment with my Oncologist. We were to discuss several things during our time together: radiation side effects, a pharmaceutical treatment plan, and changes to lifestyle that could help prevent future cancers. I, of course, think this is where Dr. Siegel would tell me to walk my dogs and join Weight Watchers to ‘lose a few’. I never expected “train for a triathlon” to be on his prescription pad. That Dr. Siegel is, indeed, a smarty.
These were just a few of the incredible women who received and filled the same prescription. (Stories shared with permission.)
Teammate Joan was diagnosed with advanced Stage 2 estrogen/progesterone positive breast cancer at age 57 …after a completely clear mammogram one year earlier. Her diagnosis changed after her surgery and the first round of chemo. An additional year of chemo was added to her plan. Chemo weakens your immune system and it gave Joan an infection…one so significant that she couldn’t fly to attend her Mother’s funeral. She suffers from lymphedema, wears a compression sleeve on her arm, and is still limited by fatigue. Her incredible charm was one of the brightest lights on Team Phoenix 2019.
Teammate Kathryn was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 28 in June 2016. The first chemo treatment almost killed her. She got every side effect listed on the bag. She then endured surgery, radiation, and more chemo. She worked full time during all of it. She finished treatment in August 2017…enduring one full year of infusions every 3 weeks. Hormone therapy followed and she entered menopause at the nonripe ol’ age of 30. While her friends were doing typical things for women her age…like having babies. She and her husband of 1.5 years had 12 hours to decide their family’s fate. Fertility treatments could activate more cancer for Kathryn and thus they decided to forgo that dream. She was athletic before cancer, but during and after she could barely walk. Team Phoenix was her comeback story.
Teammate Tiffany at 45 years old became weak, tired, with night sweats, a cough, and aches/pains just before vacation. She knew something was wrong when she became extremely weak after walking the southern rim of the Grand Canyon. (quite frankly, that would make anyone weak, Tiff!) She wrapped her vacation and barely made it through the plane ride calling 911 upon arriving home. She was diagnosed with Stage 4 Non-Hodgins Lymphoma which had now spread to her ribs, liver, skull, face, and left femur. She started with aggressive chemotherapy within two weeks…6 different chemotherapies in total. She lost all her hair and strength throughout her musculoskeletal system requiring her to use a walker. Cancer also compromised her immune system. She wore a surgical mask and gloves on rare outings to the movies or Walmart for the 12 months during her treatment. Her physical strength was gone but her spirit remained strong. She was determined to walk again… without a walker. Her physical therapist told her about Team Phoenix. She didn’t realize how physical this would be. She told me she was after the jersey she saw on the TP website. Tiff served in the U.S. Army (14 years) and was used to going through hellish journeys and getting something in the end...I believe she was referring to a medal or a stripe…but hey… it’s a nice jersey. November 13th will make 4 years in remission for Tiffany.
Teammate Carrie was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 43 in April 2018. She is married and at the time her two kids were 11 and 12 years old. She admits to blowing off her routine mammo for a couple of weeks. Let’s be clear, no woman likes this part of womanhood. During her kept appointment, the tech found a dark spot on her scan. Her physician sent her a note for more testing with a warning to ‘not worry’. She had another mammogram and then an ultrasound. She knew she failed both tests when two females entered the exam room. They told her she had a tumor and it was cancerous. She was by herself and headed to work afterward. She entered her school, joined fellow teachers in their regular meetings, and began to cry. Within 5 weeks, her cancer changed from Stage 1 to Stage 2. She has had 7 surgeries in total with the last one in February. She has also had a hysterectomy and moles removed as more testing found that she is at a higher risk for 6 different types of cancer (stomach, thyroid, colon, etc.) She continues to be monitored closely.
She was in a bad place with all the surgeries and recoveries and, like many of us, couldn’t get out of her own head. A friend of Carrie’s (and fellow breast cancer survivor) suggested they do Team Phoenix together. That friend was diagnosed with liver and colon cancer shortly after. She’s in treatment and Carrie looks forward to supporting her friend’s TP journey when she is ready to join the ranks of this special Sisterhood.
4:10am came early Sunday morning. My teammates were distributed throughout my teenagers’ rooms. One needed to endure the equivalent to a hockey locker room (hopefully minus the odor). One was surrounded by posters and pictures of Shawn (Mendes, not Cassidy). One had endless selfies to stare at the courtesy of a Polaroid camera comeback. The 4th stayed in our ‘no-trace-of-a-teen’ guest room with her dogs and significant other. Our alarms went off and one groggy teammate emerged. To ensure everyone remembered that we were doing a Triathlon that day, I asked Alexa to play the theme song from Rocky at full volume. Teammates a plenty whipped open their doors with arms raised and legs racing toward the kitchen in search of coffee. After explaining the movie ‘Rocky’ to my teens and grounding them until they have watched all 7 installations of this cinematic classic, we packed our cars and headed out.
Dawn had not yet broken, so with headlights on full beam we formed a string of 6 cars and caravanned to the race. I was the lead car and couldn’t help but think that if it weren’t for the Trek bike in my back seat, this morning’s journey could have easily been mistaken for a funeral procession. I secretly prayed that I wasn’t driving the car that carried the body to be viewed later. My nerves rose with every tire rotation toward the beach. Coach wanted us at the race site by 5:15am. Our Wave was scheduled to start (swim) at 7:24am. There was much to do before our launch. We turned to park onto a large grassy area in this campground and I saw my new comfort color… team purple. Yup, this is the place. The parking attendant said “Good morning” as he directed me to the next open spot. I asked him how he was fairing, and he replied with “Just livin’ the dream.” He asked the same of me and I countered with “…well, I think I’m about to.” I got a double thumbs up from my new friend and secured my space for this race.
After a quick bike check, I headed to the transition space with my gear. Team Phoenix had our own transition area at the race. A transition area is where you store your bike and set out your stuff for the three components of the race. It’s an athlete’s ‘Command Central’. A massive parking lot was transformed for this purpose with rows of bike racks dedicated to the various athlete Waves. Just beyond the bike racks were the much-revered Porta Pottys we heard were in short supply last year. My race number (1223) was inked on my right arm and left calf…by Coach Kim’s awesome hubby. Mermaiden Joan secured the race band to my left ankle. The band contained a chip that gave race officials my locale throughout the course. Cool tech. We hung our bike seats on the rack, laid our transition mats near our tires, and eyed the shortest path to the loo. On the mat, we organized items for the bike and run activities (towel, shoes, helmet, family photo, phone strap, bib strap, Bible, nutrition, etc.) I draped my team jersey and a couple of bags of ‘extras’ off of my handlebars. I think I overpacked. I know I overpacked. My swim cap and goggles were stuffed under my swim shoulder strap as taught. Athletes were arriving in droves and by 6:30 am the racks were full. We occupied the 5 racks near the front. Once settled, I was able to engage in my favorite past-time…people watching. I had never been to an event like this and instantly knew that this experience was going to be rich with stories.
Let’s start with our neighbors. We were assigned the bike racks closest to the running path. To our immediate south were 3 rows of Navy Seals followed by another 2 racks of Green Berets. Coach Kristen clearly positioned them there for our motivation. While these fine folks weren’t actual Navy Seals or Green Berets… they were nothing short of a human science experiment…the test tube babies of Lance (post steroids) and Serena (pre and post-baby) for sure. These men (and women… science has no bias) had shoulders that were 3x the size of their waists…. Athletes like these are not typically ‘my people’. It’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy them; it’s just that I couldn’t imagine running into them at the theater or in ‘the Pig’ (Piggly Wiggly market for those outside of the Midwest). No, their nutrition comes in the form of a pouch and is sold at places with inspirational names like ‘The Endurance House.” The Endurance House is located to the left of my former hair salon and to the right of a café. I never had reason to aim center and enter their doors … until this race.
One impressive athlete had a bag strapped to his shoulder blades with tubes that extended around to either side of his ears…it was called a ‘Camelbak’. This contraption looked like something I turned down my Sophomore year at a Phi Beta Kappa party. Most wore professional Tri onesie uniforms that advertised significant sponsorships. A Tri onesie is an outfit that you can swim, bike, and run in…no need to change. It is buoyant for the swim and padded for the bike while remaining aerodynamic for the run. I just made that ‘aerodynamic’ part up…all I know is that they can run in it too. I think it’s the only article of clothing in which a camel-toe is considered acceptable…dare I say ‘sexy’? I knew this was not their first rodeo and I had a hunch that many of these folks were using this triathlon as mere practice for an upcoming Ironman.
I also noticed that while my teammates and I had sufficiently drained our bank accounts to purchase mats, special towels, cooling rags, fanny packs, waterproof phone cases (and equally waterproof mascara), sweat resistant socks, hand-formed water bottles, bike bags, padded biking shorts, headbands, margarita flavored nutrition pouches, etc., etc., these athletes traveled light. They had very little if any of these items. They showed up with their bike, a helmet, sunglasses, a tiny towel, and shoes…no socks. That. Was. It. This served as the first of many aha moments for me. Texans have a saying “All hat, no cattle.” It’s used to describe a person who dresses the part of a cowboy (10-gallon hat, expensive leather boots, oversized belt buckle) but who has never been on a horse or worked with cows. I had clearly overcontributed to the billion-dollar fitness industry. Dressing like an athlete, without doing the work of an athlete, won’t get you any closer to athleticism. Geez… all those years of wearing yoga pants and NO ONE was fooled? Noted.
Although their gear was minimal, I’m sure it was expensive. I’ve come to understand that racing bicycles can cost more than some motorcycles. I saw several competitors later in the day whose Tri onesie, bike cleats, bike frame, tires, spokes, handle bars and helmet all matched in color and pattern. It was like Garanimals for athletes. Impressive.
Coach Kim gathered all the athletes for a walk-through of the race. She pointed to the beach, introduced us to the bike mount/dismount line, and directed us toward the run/walk path. We were indeed meticulously informed of every step of this triathlon. I sensed that the aforementioned athletes not only traveled light on gear but also instruction. Coach did mention that we were way more informed and prepared for this event than the average Tri participant. Thank you for the extra help our first time out.
I returned to my transition spot for one final check. I noticed a teammate beginning to set up next to me. I was beyond excited by now and proceeded to emotionally vomit all over her. “OMG, can you believe it’s almost time!” “I’m so excited.” “I love your shoes. Are they new?” It’s then that I realized that she wasn’t sharing in my enthusiasm. She looked upset and quietly shared that she was terrified. She whispered that she didn’t think she could do this. Wait…what? Now, a bit about this teammate… she is SPECTACULAR and possesses triple my skill at each activity. I don’t remember her missing or being late for a single practice. She passed me during every bike and run practice and clearly hung with more Mermaids than Bass. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… one of the two of us have become delusional and I’m beginning to think that person is me. How could SHE be the one with the nerves? I gave her a quick pep talk but feared that I fell short of my goal to comfort her.
I had a few moments to roam the grounds and was impressed by the structure and sophistication of it all. There was a sizable finish line erected at the sacred spot. It had a massive digital clock prominently displayed at the top to document photo finishes I think. There were barricades lining all the key entry and exit spots of the race. Volunteers were positioned strategically with water and an encouraging word. There must have been at least 30 event photographers and 1 energetic announcer who informed us that the race would start 10 minutes later than scheduled. Family and friends surprised me on the beach to cheer me on. Others texted, called, emailed and offered words of encouragement and love days prior to the race. Thank you all for recognizing how important this day was to me.
The announcer asked Team Phoenix athletes to head to the beach starting line. Gulp. Yellow caps were adjusted. Swim Angels had their swimmers. Pink buoys were snapped around our waists. High fives and hugs were being offered everywhere I looked. As I took in the scene, I noticed Coach Kim with the nervous teammate I described earlier. They were several yards away from me standing among the 100+ swimmers and a sea of spectators. They were facing each other, foreheads touching…a stance that clearly implied “Let me be perfectly clear…” I sensed my teammate still wasn’t doing well and Coach Kim wasn’t having any of it. We were less than 5 minutes from starting. I could only see Kim in that exchange and couldn’t hear a word of their conversation. I didn’t need to… Coach’s eyes said it all. I knew that look and was instantly transported back to my panic attack at Buoy #2. “You’ve got this.” “You’ve been training for this.” “I’ve seen you do this.” “I believe in you.” I teared up at the display, moved my head down to give them some privacy, and secretly stole a few of Coach’s words for myself. I later saw this teammate ahead of me on the course and at the finish line…she was a different person. A Triathlete. I never had any doubt.
We were the 9th wave to compete…70 swimmers and Swim Angels all in. The race grouped athletes in self-selected categories/Waves (skill level, age, weight, and course type). We were the only team in the competition. We overpowered the course and the cheering sections for sure. Whenever the announcer said the words “Team Phoenix ” a thundering of cheers and applause overcame the beach. A few athletes and their supporters didn’t know the Team Phoenix story. That would surely be rectified by the end of this event.
There were two courses: The Sprint distance (ours) and the Olympic course…for the Navy Seal types. The Olympic course athletes started after us in Wave 10. I felt like I was gaining on the Mermaids, but I wasn’t sure I could swim fast enough to avoid becoming shark-bait for the Olympians. The Olympic course route promised these athletes a 1-mile swim, a 25-mile bike ride, and a 10K run. We were doing the ‘Sprint’ distance…shorter. Even though they would need to perform during the hottest part of the day, I doubt that would have slowed them at all. We were given a 20-minute lead before their start gun sounded. I would need to turn the swim course twice to avoid getting swam over by these adrenalin-seeking-Gu boosted-insanely chiseled specimens. I needed a minute to think this through.
The gun went off and my teammates and I bounded into the water. Swim Angel Sue was by my side. I wasn’t sure which strokes I would choose for this race, but she was there just in case the back stroke had me needing a personal GPS.
The start lived up to its reputation. It was pure chaos. I was clawed and kicked by other athletes getting into their swim momentum. It wasn’t horrible. It just took some getting used to and it kept my mind off of the salad I was stepping on. I then swam…and swam…and swam some more. This seemed to be taking for-flipping-ever! I don’t remember the other swim practices feeling this looooonnnnngggg. I veered off course several times and Sue kept me in check the best she could. At one point, I tried to get my bearings and flipped to gauge the distance to the next red buoy ball. I realized then that I was nowhere near the actual course. Crap. It’s difficult to see the full course from within the water and easy to get a bit turned around. Remember, we weren’t swimming forward in a straight line. Our course was horseshoe-shaped. My new strategy was to swim toward anything that resembled a human. Seemed like a reasonable strategy, until I figured out that I was swimming BACK the way I had just come. Ugh. After many misapplied strokes, I noticed a gal on a paddleboard smiling down at me. No help…just equal parts entertainment and condescension. I can’t even. ‘Could you give a directionally-challenged-Sister a little help?’ I thought. I missed my Little Muskego Lake Captain. Sue caught up with me and repositioned me toward the finish line. It was within view at that point. She told me to swim until I could stand and then I was allowed to run. Game on! I free-styled the final wet block to the beach, thanked sweet Sue, flashed jazz-hands at Drs. Leslie and Judy, and air-kissed family and friends as I whizzed by. I’m not yet a Mermaid, but this proud Bass just finished the swim leg of this Triathlon!
I power-walked from the beach to the transition area repeating the words ’helmet’, ’helmet’, ’helmet’. Coach clearly said that you could get disqualified if you touch your bike without a helmet on. That and the ‘no nakedness’ rule were the two thoughts running through my head for some reason. Remember, I’m not great with rules. I quickly prepped for the bike activity, ran with my bike to the mounting line and hopped on ready to tackle this 15-mile ride. This I could do.
It was a gorgeous but scorching hot Sunday morning. My water bottle was filled but I feared would empty before I finished my 3rd pedal rotation. The bike course was equally stunning with the route taking us through one of the most beautiful small farming communities in our area. It’s a part of Wisconsin I hadn’t seen before my practice with Joanie Pelotonie a few weeks back. I tried to be present and take in every cow, barn, field, and fence. Bike rides have become my ‘think time’. It’s when I have generated the most creative ideas and solved my toughest problems. It was quiet on the course. I saw a couple of teammates, but it wasn’t as crowded as I expected it to be. I was alone again with my thoughts. I began to reminisce about all the miles I traveled via bike in the last 3.5 months. I have assigned chores, co-planned a high school reunion, and counseled colleagues from that bike seat. I have ordered a family dinner, memorized countless song lyrics, and settled ownership of a certain in-demand sweatshirt all while having my hands on those bars. I’ve biked in the rain, on rocks, and alongside semi-trucks on those two wheels. I didn’t want to multitask today. Today, it was important that I simply be present.
I was in mile 5.3, when the first Olympian caught up and wheeled past me. Wow, they are fast. Then another…with a shout out to me to ‘keep going’. Another few Olympians passed and hurled a ‘you’ve got this’ my way. I collected well wishes and ‘atta-girls’ from the Olympians for the next hour and a half. It was clear that they knew us and our story by our Team Phoenix jersey. Not only did they not mind sharing their playground with us, but they encouraged us to be worthy competitors as well. They were exceptional and I can’t thank them enough for their kindness and sportsmanship. The police officers and volunteers positioned on the course were also magnificent. Remember, I had never participated in an athletic activity before this. Had I not been a parent in a bleacher in my other life, I would have thought that this was the spirit at all sporting events. The behavior I have seen on and off fields and rinks didn’t always resemble that of these athletes, their supporters, and our officials. There’s a lesson here. There were even a few large plywood signs propped up against corn stalks with painted messages of encouragement… “Go Team Phoenix.” Nothing but support at every turn. Amazing. My kids are going to hear about this for sure.
I rounded the corner and saw the campground just ahead. Almost done. I dismounted before the line and ran my bike back to my transition spot. It’s an odd sensation to try to run after a 15-mile bike ride. Your legs just don’t want to cooperate. It reminded me of this game I played in college at Madison called “Dizzy Izzy.” During Homecoming, small teams would line up behind a bat and cheer on contestant #1 as this person stood the bat head on the grass and bent down to place their forehead on the bat end. They were then asked to run in a circle (while maintaining that position) 10 times. After the 10th rotation, said contestant would rise, try to run and tag contestant #2 and so on. The hilarity of seeing a, now dizzy, Badger maneuver with difficulty down Bascom Hill was something.
Bob was waiting at the fenced line with a high-five and encouraging smooch. One more event to go. I swapped my helmet for a baseball hat, strapped my bib to my waist and headed for the run path. I was strong to start and got feeling back in my legs after a few steps. Unfortunately, by the ¼ mile marker, I experienced painful shin splints. It’s happened before and is so frustrating for me. While my head and heart were willing, my legs were in a deep, deep protest. Criminy. I stopped to stretch at two points on the course but couldn’t get my lower legs to cooperate. Another athlete stopped her run to see if I was ok. I explained that I had shin splints and would be fine. She told me she was a paramedic and that she’d stay to help me walk it out. I hated interrupting another athlete’s race. No matter what I said, she refused to leave. A TP volunteer, Swim Angel Sue, and a water station helper came to greet us with packets of Gu and cups of water in both hands. They insisted that large doses of both were the formula for healthy shins. I was instructed to suck the Gu from its pouch and store it in my cheek for instant absorption into my bloodstream. Gu is a form of ‘nutrition’ for athletes. It contains glucose, caffeine, and other critical nutrients like magnesium. Let me help you understand what this stuff tastes like. Imagine unwrapping all of your favorite childhood candy (nonchocolate) and placing it in one large bowl: Gobstoppers, Bottle Caps, Hubba Bubba, Smarties, Runts, Candy Corn, Pixie Stix, Fun Dip, etc. Pour that collection into a blender and press ‘puree’. Transfer that powdery heap into a pot on the stove, add a cup of Karo syrup, and turn the burner to high. Stir and boil for 5 minutes. That, my friends, …is Gu Energy Gel. I know. I know. Here’s the thing, within five minutes I was loosening up. I could feel my feet again and could start a slow trot. Briana, my personal paramedic, continued on her journey leaving me to mine. The run course was a ‘there and back’ so if you were slower (me) you saw folks on their way back to the Finish Line. As I passed my teammates, we exchanged high fives and breathy ‘see you theres.’ I just needed to finish these 2 remaining miles. I needed motivation...something. …and that’s when he appeared.
It took a lot of courage for my teammates and me to train and compete in this triathlon. By courage, this time I’m referencing the hundreds of NSFW photos that were taken and posted on Facebook showing us in various stages of exertion: makeup-free, spandex laden, swimsuit baring. Double groan. Our bravery doesn’t come close to the level of confidence I was about to witness in this event. Meet “Speedo-Man” …a tall, lean, male, maybe mid to late 20s, in a green and black splotched Speedo. Nothing more. I’m not even sure if he had on running shoes. I got stalled on the Speedo and never looked down. I thought I saw him blow past me on the bike route but wrote that off as another mirage…because…ouch, right? Nope, this was the same Dude. He ran past me on the final leg of the course and I had to do a double-take. I hesitated to include ‘Speedo-Man’ in this blog because I would never want to embarrass anyone with my words. Here is my rationale for keeping him in the story 1) this was not his first Tri, 2) This was not his first Tri in a Speedo, 3) he knew there were dozens of photographers in the field, and 4) I don’t think his Mom packed for him. Moms know better. This was his uniform…with room for only one sponsor’s logo…Speedo. For the next mile and a half, I became obsessed with unpacking the mindset of this amazing athlete. Oh, he had game…a teeny-tiny uniform…but serious game. How does one come to the conclusion to wear that and only that? Was he a camper, saw the race signs, and decided to join in at the last minute? Was he European? How much sunscreen did he pack and where did he store the bottle? Didn’t that bike seat hurt? Was he one of those toddlers who hated wearing clothes? Is he single? He must be single, right? So many questions …questions that carried me to the final turn of the run.
Now, Mr. Speedo, if this blog makes its way to your phone please know that you gave this middle-aged wife and Mom of three some serious hope. You, did you… and you should keep doing you for as long as that Speedo covers the major bits and minor bits. To show my appreciation, I’d like to connect you with the most stylish athlete on any course, my gorgeous Teammate, Chandra. I know she’d gladly volunteer to lead your Glam Squad next year.
I caught up with TP teammate, Lisa, 400 yards to the finish line. Lisa and I finished the MiniTri practice together and I thought it only apropos that we meet here once again. We devised a plan to pick up the pace when we hit the ‘100 meters left’ marker. Once there, we clasped hands, raised our arms in anticipation of our victory, and ran. Dr. Judy’s tradition is to meet the athletes just prior to the finish line to run them in. Dr. Leslie meets us on the other side for a giant hug. We were ready. Your name and bib number are called over the loudspeaker … ”Kimberly” not Norma was the announcer’s choice. Wise choice, Sir. Dr. Leslie gave me a big squeeze and I was instantly surrounded by my family. I chose Bob to present me with my completion medal. He looped it over my head and gave me a giant hug. He told me how proud he was of me…how much he loved me..blah..wonderful…blah. ..and of course, I wept. It was over. I did it. I just added ‘Triathlete’ to the list of titles I revere the most … ’Mrs.’, ‘Mom’, ‘Graduate’, etc.
We took photos with family, friends, and teammates… and I guzzled lots and lots of water. I watched as each remaining teammate crossed that finish line. The people waiting for them burst into cheers, tears, and synchronized dance moves. It was a sight to see. Joy and love showed up that day. There was one finish line story in particular that summed up the entire experience for me and I hope she won’t mind me sharing these few details.
I had heard about this teammate’s story from a couple other teammates who were equally in awe of her courage and tenacity. I remembered her from orientation…Day 1 Team Phoenix. She bravely raised her hand to share that she was having a bit of anxiety about this adventure and wondered if anyone else was. During a small group dialogue, we were asked why we chose to do Team Phoenix and she responded with “I hope this will prolong my life.” During the first open water swim she shared my discomfort with the seaweed carpeting. After one of our final team sessions she shared the positive impact all of this exercise has had on her stamina and balance. Other than her name and knowing she’s a bit older than me, these are the few glimpses I had into her life. I didn’t become aware of her cancer story until well into our third month together. She has Stage 4 cancer and takes a chemo pill every day to keep her cancer at bay.
…and she just completed a triathlon.
She came through the finish line and hugged Dr. Leslie. Alyssa and I clapped and hooted for her victory. She was mobbed by several people, but it was the long embrace with her husband that had my daughter and I in tears. I can’t even imagine the words they were exchanging. My 16-year-old turned to me mid-ugly-cry and said, “I don’t even know them and I’m crying!” This teammate was running a different race than the rest of us that day…the triathlon was merely a pitstop. So proud of and happy for you, Dear Teammate.
The team ran the last Team Phoenix athlete to the Finish Line, and she earned every syllable of her name being shouted over that loud speaker…her name was definitely not ‘Norma’. Speeches were given, more pictures were taken, and ‘thank yous’ were exchanged generously. This triathlon was in the books.
Here’s the thing about triathlons… it is actually a sport designed for individuals. There is no ball or baton to pass. One person’s time or performance doesn’t impact another’s. There is no play to study or goal to make. I know I could have registered, trained, and competed all on my own and hopefully finished just the same. That is what the majority of those on the course did this day. That said, there is no way I would have wanted to do this without my teammates. These women were a balance of care and challenge, competitive and cooperative, inspiring and comic relief for me. The staff …our leaders… were equal parts loving and tough, encouraging and intolerant, silly and serious. Not once were we treated as cancer victims. There’s a lesson here. People rise to the expectations you have of them. We entered Team Phoenix with the title of ‘cancer patient’ and exchanged it for a much healthier one at that Finish Line…’Triathlete’.
Dr. Judy asked us to think of the Finish Line as a 2nd Starting Line. She and Dr. Leslie, the founders of this amazing program, want this to be the beginning of our journey to health and wellness not the end. They would rather see us on the bike path than in their waiting room and I couldn’t agree more.
This blog is dedicated to the amazing Dr. Judy, Dr. Leslie, our physicians, nurses and Team Phoenix staff and coaches at Advocate Aurora Healthcare. This innovative program is cutting edge stuff for a Healthcare industry that has perhaps lost its way a bit (Hospitals, Pharma, Insurance, etc.) The support TP is given by the staff and physicians who referred us to them speaks volumes about the reputation of this program. This could very well be the future of cancer prevention, recovery, and dare I say…healthcare.
Ilka, the Director of this program (and unsung shero working tirelessly behind the scenes for us) has coordinated another triathlon for the Team Phoenix alumni …of which I am now a proud member. This one is late September, Coach Kim signed on to lead it, and the swim leg is in a pool. I think I just might….
