Shelly trained VERY hard, she spent so much time in the pool over the last couple of months, I can't even tell you how many hours we were in the water. I think she might have started to change her mind about this whole thing? Probably not. I don't know. I DO know that MANY times she would have rather spent her time doing something other than driving to another high school Open Swim day. Saturday afternoons. Wednesday nights. Lifeguards asking her to take a test and me talking our way out of it. We swam in the shallow end, we tried to avoid the splashers. She hates goggles and won't put her face in the water but we prevailed. Another lap. Another lap. Another lap.
One night near the end of the training she called me into her bedroom. As she lay there, exhausted from yet another evening swim where I made her go twice as far as she wanted to - she said to me, "Mom, can I ask you a question?" Sure, anything. "When you were training for your half marathon to run 13 miles, did you ever have to run 20 miles?" No, I din't have to do that.
(And I'm silently thinking, where is this going? And I know exactly where its going, and this is a Mom Moment when you just pretend like you're an expert except you actually know NOTHING about what you're talking about.)
No, when I was training for a half marathon, I never ran more than the race distance while I was in training. "Then why do I have to do 10 laps to practice, when the event will only be FOUR?" Cue my Expert Mom speech about getting comfortable in the water and building endurance. Blah blah....
We pushed through, we planned and packed. Sunday morning we drove out to Whitewater and arrived early, in time to have lunch, tour the town and get a prime parking spot. We moved our bikes to the transition area. And waited. We waited for about a million years for the meeting. While we waited, our family (Grandma and Grandpa brought the boys!) and friend (Mary P!!! what!!! thanks for surprising us!) showed up. It started getting crowded with kids of all ages, Shelly was one of the youngest but there were racers all the way up to 17 years old. Some of them looked casual and new like us, while others were pros. Kids that looked like they were 10 or 12 but had the team jerseys, the professional tri-suits, the expensive looking gear. I felt intimidated. Shelly seemed fine.
The meeting finally started, everything was explained, and before I even knew what was happening they were calling out names for the first wave and Shelly was the second name they called! Everything's a blur! Go! She lines up a the end of her lane with three other girls, they creep into the water, the whistle blows and she's GOING!! From where we sat, waaaaayyyy up in the balcony bleachers, she looked too small. She looked like the smallest little thing down in that big pool, crowded into a lane with three other swimmers who seemed faster and stronger than her. But she went. She would not put her face in the water but she WOULD. NOT. STOP. She didn't stop to rest at the ends like I thought she would. When another swimmer doing the backstroke ran into Shelly, she slowed a bit but she wouldn't stop. When I was sitting in those bleachers screaming so she'd hear me calling to her, and I was up there thinking she started out too fast and she'd be too tired.... she just wouldn't stop.
All that time, the crowd was cheering for all those children in the pool, but as they climbed out one by one the crowd gradually grew a little quiter. But then. Shelly was the only one left. And OH MY GOODNESS you should have heard them. EVERYONE was cheering for her! EVERYONE was clapping and cheering for my darling beautiful strong Shelly. And she finished her four laps, climbed out to applause and cheers and walked out the door like a pro.
Ok, now GO!!! I raced down the steps, ran outside to my bike and met up with Shelly. She had found her things, dried off, put on her helmet and clothes and off we go for the four mile bike ride. I was allowed to ride and run with her, so we were together from then on. There were hills. There was wind. Other kids out on the road as they finished their swim and hopped on their bikes. We did our best. Shelly kept asking how much farther till we could turn around. I just kept trying to encourage her. And what the heck was I doing. I'm coaching her on how to do a triathlon when I've never done one? I've read a lot about them. I want to do one myself this summer. But who am I to say how she should ride her bike? No time for that. She was cold and thirsty and hating the hills. Stay positive, Mom, keep her going. (Am I pushing her too hard? Is this all a mistake and she'll never try anything new again?) Keep going.
Our support team was there for the beginning and end of the bike ride, ready to cheer Shelly on through the next transition. We parked the bikes and I followed her out to the course for the run. This is where the boys joined us and I thought they'd drop off after a little while but they stuck it out. Eli even managed to almost keep up with us. Shelly didn't need a lot from me at this point, other than keeping the boys out of her way. One mile. Around the soccer field. She was tired and I know she was still cold, that wind and the wet hair on her neck wasn't helping anything. But she would not give up. And then, there's the finish, we're almost there, she picked up her pace and as we got closer she was going faster and they call out her number as they see her coming, and she's DONE! She crossed the finish line, SHE FINISHED!
My heart melted in that moment. She looked exhausted. But she had decided to try something new, she worked hard to be ready, and then she did NOT. GIVE. UP. She finished it.
So Shelly, how do you feel? "Tired. Wet. Happy. And proud." And that sums it up very nicely.
