Of course it wasn’t oppressing me, just reminding me that my first swim practice was at 6:30 and I had better get a move on if I was going to be there on time. After all, I had already started fundraising, and wouldn’t it just look terrible to have to report to everyone that I missed my first practice because I was up too late chatting with Monique and her gorgeous friend after the TNT dinner last night. Once my feet hit the floor I began to vaguely connect with that Christmastime feeling of excitement about new things in store and I got going pretty quickly. In one fell swoop I put some pants on gathered the bag I pack the night before and headed out into the cold tundra that Richmond Proper had become.
I made it to the Northside Y with plenty of time to spare, walked in the front door, and in a still slightly sleep-addled monotone managed a raspy, “Team in Training?” before being shown the locker room door. Once changed, I spilled out into the pool, arms folded against what I was sure would be a cool blast of air coming off the top of that water. I stared dumbfounded at the lanes for several moments before the lifeguard on duty took pity on me and pointed out a lane I could swim in. Once again I threw up a “Team in Training?” and hoped it would opensesame my way into looking like I was, in fact, allowed to be there. He smiled and pointed out Steve who pointed out a lane and pointed out that I should get in and warm up. So I walked over and after a moment of psyching myself up I jumped right into the water, which I was sure would be an icy seizure. Surprise, surprise it was fairly warm. After a very short warm up (apprehension of being out of shape) I hopped out and saw other TNT’ers begin to congregate at one end of the pool.
As I started to break the ice I met some people training for an Olympic distance triathlon fast-approaching in the spring. We chatted about fundraising and their reasons for getting involved, and I began to have flashbacks to the night before…
Flashback to the night before:
The TNT dinner at Capital Ale was populated not by a bunch of 6’2” guys dressed still in their lycra talking about what hair-removal products work best, but by a bunch of ordinary-looking folks hanging out in a bar. It’s all an act. None of these people are ordinary by any stretch of the imagination. Take Paul for instance, a man 20 years my senior diagnosed with a benign form of leukemia who had done more century races than I have fingers. He laughed off my shock about hills coming from flatland Tidewater to Richmond. Those weren’t hills for him. Apparently this was a man who got his jollies from hills that were really mountains, that pushed your bike to speeds over 50 mph and ran your legs down to speeds less than 6. Imagine my shock when a salt-and-pepper headed man walked over and Paul introduced him as the man who could drop him without so much as a thought.
Then there was Sarah. She had already done over a dozen races and helped raise over $40,000 for the LLS! Her stories of fund raising cut my puny $1,500 goal down to size very quickly. That’s not to say she wasn’t extremely helpful. She was always quick to support and give advice, I even got a great template for some business cards I will be handing out with my website and info on them. These, however, were just appetizers for a red-headed fireplug who probably came to this planet wrapped in a blanket emblazoned with a giant “S.”
Susan Ann Glass was a woman whose personality was clearly dunking from the foul line in a package that was more at home in a Sicilian kitchen. Having the brief conversation I did have was like being train robbed by a bandit on a rocket horse with ADD. She kept flitting from person to person as they said one thing or another to her. She would launch into soaring overtures of conversation only to be diverted quickly and take aim at another person caught in her maelstrom of pep. But when she did finally focus her fire for a moment at the targets I presented I was blown away like that hapless goat next to an abandoned house in New Mexico.
Many times she stacked marathons on top of each other like normal people making quadruple-stuffed Oreos and she bit them with just as much gusto. She was grateful for a more than 6-hour time limit on one of her races, but only because she ran it on a broken foot. I said I was lamenting the trainer time, she had the solution: five drills I wasn’t doing but better start. She sent me that drill from one of her 9 email addresses. All this while holding a great career managing the helpdesk for all of Virginia, lobbying for a smoking ban, raising two kids, and making TNT just one of the multiple charities she was involved with.
I had to scoop myself off the floor. However, I had never felt better equipped to take on a challenge than I had right after that dinner. There was a euphoric sense of purpose and inspiration walking out of that room surrounding me. I was ready, I could do this, I was heading home to get some sleep so I could get up easily in the morning.
Of course with any quest there are some detours and mine were a pair of sparkling brown eyes sitting at a booth on my way toward the door. My conscience facepalmed and I spent a couple of hours plying charm to two beautiful women who laughed politely all night. I knew I’d pay a price to see them smile some more and I did when that alarm hit my ears in the early early o’darkthirty.
Back to practice:
Having gotten a little more winded than I would have wanted to during warm-up, I was relieved to hear Kia, my coach, tell Melody and me it would be an easy day today. Melody is doing the same race and is one of those super heroes in training. So we did some interesting drills like one where you lay on one side and kick for a length before switching to the other side and kicking. My goal during all of this was to gauge what, if anything was left of my swimming skills since I had stopped about 2 years ago. I am fairly proud of my performance, Kia told us both that we were good in the water, and I only swallowed about two large mouthfuls of delicious pool water.
All in all, it was a solid practice, but I was really floored by all the people I met along the way. This human perspective I keep getting is really interesting. It’s very hard to frown around these people because they are all working so hard for such a great cause, and also they are high on endorphins from all of the exercise. Really that and the light workout made it a relatively easy day. When Melody and I obliquely alluded to this we momentarily saw a fire light in Kia’s eyes. Her tone got serious and she told us in a tone heavy on the understatement that she will be making it hard on us soon enough.
Looks like ear-splitting alarms waking me from my lucid fantasy worlds are going to be some of the least painful aspects of this process.
I can’t wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment