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She did not hesitate to say yes.
That's just the kind of friend she is.
As I was in the midst of figuring out if I could really really attempt this big feat, she would gently prod me about what she could do to support me? When she should fly up from southern California to join me? Where would we be staying?
Normally I am a list-maker. I'm organized. I'm a teacher and for field trips I've thought of every variable. For this event I kept feeling like I needed a little more time.
Time to heal my knees and begin running.
Time to go to Maui with my girls.
Time to train.
Time to think about hiring a coach as the race approached closer.
When I fell on my knee in June and got hurt she was encouraging.
She started asking me my favorite colors. Symbols. Motivational sayings. And so much more.
She would post silly photos or creations to my Facebook page.
She believed in me from the beginning. Her belief was contagious and I began to believe in myself as the race got closer and closer. I overcame my fear of riding in the heat and getting heatstroke. I overcame my fear of riding alone for 100+ miles or 6 + hours. I was swimming 4,000 or more yards. I slowly built up my running mileage from 1 mile to 21. With my doctor's help I figured out how to avoid asthmatic attacks. I had my bike fit, finally figured out which running shoes were the most comfortable for my knees, perfected the art of aqua jogging, combatted the problem of chafing in the nether regions of my womanhood and overall figured out my nutrition plan. I rented a cabin. Overall I was ready as I could be given the time I had to prepare and the setbacks I had experienced.
She meanwhile had secretly ordered shirts for my support team comprised of family and friends. She had purchased items to surprise me; foot rollers, more t-shirts, surprise food items and special icing items for after I completed the race.
I surprised her by breaking my ankle two weeks before the race.
She made another sign and posted it to my Facebook page.
She sent me photos of possible accessories for my injury.
She flew up to the Bay Area anyway, loading me and all of my gear (wheelchair, crutches, food, clothing and more) in the car to head up to Tahoe. On the way up we stopped for donuts and dressed up as Pirates (apparently we will do anything for a dozen free donuts on Dress Up Like a Pirate Day).
She had emergency t-shirts made with my coach's nickname for me, "Mayhem" while also incorporating my little mishap. When we arrived at Ironman Lake Tahoe we went to the athlete registration. We hitched a ride on a golf cart (I could not put any weight on that ankle of mine) and we had fun. First, we went to the "Got Chocolate Milk" booth and took a photo.
After we visited all of the vendor booths. I was exhausted and was in need of refreshment.
The next day, to amuse ourselves and turn a bad weekend better we decided to have some fun with an Ironman Tahoe photo shoot.
First the swim.
Next up, the bike.
Gotta fuel up.
It's important to transition to running attire.
Do not forget warm clothing and a headlamp for when it gets cold and dark.
Finally, we finished up the photo shoot finish.
The next day we cheered on all of my teammates and the friends I'd met via the Ironman Lake Tahoe Facebook page. We were bundled up at the start of the swim.
Later we cheered the athletes on Brockway with loud music and cowbells. I was in the car with my casted ankle elevated out the car window. My daughter Morgan was driving and my sherpa was running down the street with her cowbell, wearing her encouraging shirt.
Sometimes it's hard being me.
But with sherpa love like I had, it makes it a whole lot easier. Everyone should feel so loved and supported.
And you know what? For weeks after the love continued.
Sherpa love. It's a special kinda love.
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