There's no "I" in TEAM and no "QUIT" in BIG TONE

Saturday in Philadelphia brought the end to part of my journey. I finished the Philadelphia Insurance Companies Sprint Distance Triathlon in 2 hours 46 minutes. That is how the story ends. Let me help you all understand how it went.
Friday was a busy day. Lunch with the girls and my mom before Kiki, Missy, and I went to pick up numbers. Traffic and a market stop only allowed us to get there around 5. I was hoping for 3. My numbers were ready along with the other 1800 racers (I was one of 1800. Not sure how many others had a blog and as big of an army behing them!). I thought this scene would make me nervous but I officially got excited for the race. We saw Ralph and his family. They seemed ready, too. We were supposed to get home in time for a nice pasta meal. That turned into a 9:30 pick up of Victor's pizza. It was good but not what I planned. Only then did I start to gather my gear for the race. I stuffed my backpack with as much gear as I thought I would need. Then out to attach the bike rack on Kiki's car, in the dark. So much for a relaxing evening before the big day. Bedtime turned out to be around 11:30. I was shooting for 9...
Saturday's alarm sounded at 4:30AM but Missy and I were already awake. I put the bike on the car, my parents arrived around 5 and we all piled into Kiki's car on our way by 5:30. Smooth ride to the event with a bit of a wait to park. I listened to a playlist I created the day before. My parents caught me listening and going through my swim bike run routine. I even removed my hat for the star spangled banner. Everyone was loose as we walked down to the transition area. I had to use the facilities no less than 3 times pre race. I still wasn't nervous. About 1 hour before I would set out for the swim I got my wetsuit on. I got in the river for a warm up. The water was pleasant but the current was more swift than it looked. I still felt good. I said my goodbyes to my team/confidence/fan club. All the racers gathered by wave, off to the side of the transition area, each in their different colored swim cap. I was in the bright yellow group, a bunch of over 200lbs guys aged 40 or more wearing wetsuits. Quite a sight to say the least!! Pre race national anthem was next. It was at this point I thought I was receiving my last bit of motivation. The singer was a 12 year old girl named Emily who had just kicked brain cancer. She sang live and beautifully. I nearly cried, of course, but I added the Let's Go Muhls at the end and I figured that if a 12 year old girl could beat cancer then sing to a couple thousand strangers, I could certainly finish this race. It was about an hour wait til our group was next. As I entered the water, the timer warned us to be careful because they were pulling people out more than other years and that the lifeguards were saying it seemed like you were swimming uphill. Thanks for the motivation... I got off to a decent start, for about 50M. I got tired almost immediately and switched from breaststroke to side stroke. The current was way stronger than I initially thought. Also, I really wasn't prepared for the bumping, kicking and groping by all the other swimmers. It prevented me from finding any kind of rhythm. It took all I could muster just to advance myself on the course. I flipped over to my back in a sculling stroke. From that position, at least I felt myself catching my breath. I was taking in water the whole time, too. My breathing was labored. I was only around the 200M mark and I was spent. I looked around at all the other swimmers having trouble, too. There were a few being pulled out by the lifeguards. Some were hanging on to kayaks which is legal as long as you don't advance yourself on the course with aid. I alternated between sculling on my back and side stroke and I felt the end coming. This blog, my sister from far away, the fundraising people, and the entire community went through my mind. I thought, at least I tried. Everyone would understand that it was very hard and at least I tried. But just when I felt like I was getting no where and it might be time to admit defeat, I spotted a look out area by the bridge. There were a lot of spectators standing and watching. The area kind of looks like the Kelly's Lock lookout, if you're from here you know what I mean. Sports and Bean surprised me that morning by making brightly colored t shirts and used paint to make them say Go Big Tone. Out of the corner of my foggy wet goggles, I spotted them. Then I saw my mom in the bright pink shirt she was wearing. From there I could piece together the rest of the group(Missy was wearing a new grey underarmour tank; strangely, although I was nearly drowning and ready to quit a race I've prepared for nine months to do I remembered everyone's wardrobe!). It was then that between deep gasps for air I could hear a familiar chant. One that has been self created and necessary. There were at least a dozen people yelling "Go Big Tone!!" They somehow spotted me with binoculars. They even got another family there to support their triathlete to yell for me too. I gave them half a wave and turned towards them for the side stroke. It was at that moment I realized I was not in this alone. I didn't deserve to decide to remove my swim cap and get pulled out by the emergency people on boats. That wasn't fair to them, to you, to anyone who has said Go Big Tone in the last 9 months. Yes, I was struggling but with their cheers I knew I had to finish the event. I wish I could say that the rest of the swim was easy and I flew to the finish but that was not the case. The current was strong but I used their enthusiasm to fuel my determination. As I passed under the bridge towards the turn bouy, I could even hear my dad yell, "You're almost half way there!" It brought me back to when I could hear his voice at the playground across the railroad tracks when he would yell for me to come home for dinner. I got to the bouy expecting it to get easier with the downstream. There was another guy who looked stronger than me but quite disoriented. He was swimming dangerously off course around the turns. I stopped to flag down a guard in a kayak to let him know I thought he was asking for help. I got into a decent downstream kick which lasted for about 200M. I was breathing hard but at least I was advancing. I peeked a few times to make sure I was still on course. Then the current stopped helping me. Throughout the whole time, I think I must have been taking on water more than I thought. By the time I got to the J turn with nothing left but a 100M cross river to the finish, it became difficult to breath and I felt like I could vomit. I summoned a kayak and treaded water with a float to catch my breath. Two other swimmers did the same. The female athlete said to us, let's swim to the next kayak 50M away and then surge to the finish, which was another 25M. We set out together. I guess we all felt like there was a strength in numbers! I had a decent breastroke rhythm going cross stream. The other two were headed to the kayak but I didn't want to stop. I just wanted out of the water. I got to about 25M from the finsish. That is the distance from one side of the pool to the other. One lap! I was out of breath and starting to panic again. I actually had a thought that I now understand how people who know how to swim drown. A guard on a kayak spotted me and threw me a line. She was able to put me back into a straight line to the finish. I stayed there for a few minutes. She told me I only had one surge and that I could do it. I set off and focused on the volunteers waving everyone in. To the very last stroke, it was hard. Very hard. I longed for the black stripe at the bottom of the pool.
My next worry was the folks watching for me to emerge. Missy told me she was worried and a little confused. Confused meaing how could it possibly take that long to swim that short loop?? Ha ha. When I got out, I saw her. I gave her what I though was a big smile and a hearty thumbs up just so she knew I was ok. The pictures we reviewed afterwards revealed a different story. She told me later that I looked spent. I found my bike, checked my blood sugar (it was on the high side which is exactly how I wanted it), and changed for the ride. I was in no hurry. I forgot a towel to do some drying off but since I was nearly alone in the transition area, the guy next to me had a towel out. I'm sure he didn't mind me using it! I got Madonna and headed to the right out of transition. Too bad for me that the bike out portion was to the left of transition. Once my disoriented self figured out I was going the wrong way I was ok. I got to see everyone when I started the bike. I kept telling them I was ok and I could still get this done. They were cheering loudly and giving me confidence the whole way. Taking pictures like I was Jordan or Armstrong. It, once again, fueld me. I heard Missy say there were more fans further along. After a block or so I saw my parents sitting with Patty and Bon Bon. They, too, fueled me with some Go Big Tone's. The first two miles of the ride were slow and I needed to shake that swim. Once I made the first turn up and over the bridge, I found a groove. I loved the ride. I took in the sights and even got up over 30mph on the downhill. I spotted the girls and gave them a high five before I made the turn to the second loop and told them I was having fun. The second loop was fun, too. I dismounted with my group right there for more encouragement. I got my running shoes, grabbed some water and found my way to the run.
Here's where I thought it would be easier. Just a flat 5K in the sun seeing the city nearly the entire time. Once I got my legs under me I started to pick up speed. However, when by breathing accelerated, I began to cough and that vomit feeling came back. I will spare you all the details of the items I was eliminating with those coughs. So, I ran, then walked. Actually, Marcy, you would have said it was a jog. I did this to the turn and then some. Every time I started to run, I would have to cough up more river water. My legs felt great and my mind was positive. It was my lungs that were preventing me from going faster. Then I spotted the familiar stride of our good friend, Kiki. She hopped onto the course to walk with me. She was concerned because of the time. I told her about the coughing and the water. She guided me in, like the air traffic controller would talk in a plane full of people. She pointed out a spot where I could finish with a good stride and everyone was there to receive me. I got to the spot and took off.
Nine months of training, over 60 blog posts, 2 successful fundraisers, and a whole lot of Go Big Tone's were behind me and only the finish was in front of me. I finished a triathlon! That was my goal, for me, for the girls, and for everyone who supported me. I told my group that the ONLY thing preventing me from giving up after about 200M in the water was their presence and support. I meant it. I hope they all realized that.
Cold water and a change of clothes made for an easy tranisition back to normal. We made the trek back up to the Expo area in the park. I had a couple of ice cold Amstel's and the triathlon experience was over. A great celebration dinner at Austin's and an early turn in. The only injuries were sore feet and a few blisters.
Once again, thank you to everyone. For everything. From beginning to end. I truly appreciate it and want to share my accomplishment with you all.

September 20, 2009. Downingtown. With Kiki. Go Big Tone (times 2)!!