Being a staff person at a Team In Training (TNT) event can definitely feel similar to an out-of-body experience. You are surrounded by all of these amazing people who just raised thousands of dollars and trained for months on end to complete a challenging race.
There’s nothing simple about it. Granted, some people are natural athletes and excel during training and some have a sixth sense when it comes to fundraising, but both aspects of this program present some level of difficulty.
I’ve heard people tell me, “It’s unnatural to run for 26.2 miles,” or “asking people for money isn’t easy for me,” which is why I have the utmost respect and admiration for the hundreds of people I have met through TNT who have accomplished both of those feats, as well as the people whom they honor or remember in doing so.
I came to work for the TNT program just two days after graduating from Virginia Tech last May. I was already aware of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, having two uncles affected by blood cancer. I became acutely aware of TNT last spring when one of my sorority sisters took on the challenge of fundraising for the Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego Marathon and asked all of us for support. Erin planned fundraisers like car washes, pizza and Krispy Kreme sales in the heart of campus, and bake sales outside the most popular bars in town. She did it and she crossed the finish line in San Diego a few weeks after I had made my cubicle a home at the LLS office.
I quickly learned that the TNT family is a diverse one. Knowing little about the program other than TNT was the world’s largest endurance training program, I’d imagined everyone involved to be a svelte athlete with an Olympic physique and record-breaking speed. But when I showed up to my first training, I was relieved to see that everyone looked pretty normal, including the coaches. I wasn’t intimidated at all because there was an immediate welcoming spirit. I had only been on the job for 5 days but these people were happy to see me and made me feel like part of their Team.
As I continued to fall in love with my first “Big Girl Job,” I was introduced to more and more Teammates and was privileged to become a part of their chosen extracurricular activity I traveled to Virginia Beach with all of the Richmond staff for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon for my first event weekend experience. I may or may not have shed a tear or two during Honored Teammate Ed Stone’s speech at our Inspiration Dinner. I was way more wide-awake than I ever expected at 4:00 a.m. when I went to the lobby to see the Teammates off to the race start. Watching the sun rise on the beach with my coworkers and our exceptional volunteers wasn’t a bad way to start my Sunday either. But it was sitting at the check-in table, screaming and clapping for each and every participant (from every participating LLS chapter) and handing them their 13.1 mile finisher pin that was my favorite part of the day.
I ran track in high school, but those finish lines were nothing compared to this one. I was just happy to be done with the 1000-meter run; these people were sweaty and exhausted, but on an endorphin high I had never seen before. It was an honor to hand each of them their pins because they had completed something much more meaningful than just a race. They’d raised over $500,000 to support cancer research and patient services.
Just a few weeks later I was preparing to travel with the Team to Augusta, GA for Ironman 70.3 Augusta. Now, they say triathletes are a breed of their own. But these people were just like you and me (maybe with a little more stamina in a wetsuit). The Augusta Team had a bond with each other that I had not seen yet in my short tenure with TNT. They all knew each other so well and had created their own special friendships. About 30 of us successfully crammed into what seemed like Augusta’s tiniest Italian restaurant and I had a great time getting to know more about the people I sat with. One of the best stories I heard all weekend was over my fettuccine alfredo from Amy Williams about the students who tried to blow up her mailbox when she was a teacher in Alabama. Now here she was preparing to blow these 70.3 miles out of the water (pun intended).
But it might have been the sugar cube-crazed little miss Emma McFeely who made me laugh the most that weekend. A survivor of infant acute lymphoblastic leukemia, Emma was there supporting her mom in the triathlon. Emma’s adorable smile is enough to give anyone enough strength for 70.3 miles. Everyone had his or her own motivations for being in Augusta, but having Emma there was the extra tangible push for a lot of the Teammates.
That Sunday morning we got up with the team at 4:30 a.m. and traveled to the transition area. I was in awe as thousands of bikes were lined up in precise detail, individual to each athlete. We waited at the swim exit and photographed each of our Teammates exit the water. Then we made our way to the run course and set up our mission boards, poised to cheer for the next 5 hours or so at every green and purple tri top that strode past us. There Emma and her grandparents joined Amber and I with their homemade mission boards featuring Holly’s face on the Ironman’s superhero body. Emma knew every Virginia Teammate who ran past us and screamed their names as they waved back. She knew why they were running, and even at 10 years old, was thankful for what they had done for LLS and for her.
I watched and blew my horn as Emma’s mom ran over to us on the grass, gave her a big squeeze, and went back on her way down the road. We are reminded every day how unfair it is for a child to have to go through cancer, and it is another reason why all of us are so invested in this cause. But it was truly amazing to see how proud Emma was of her mother, and I can only imagine what a brave child she must have been…and still is.
Every day at work I find new inspiration. Whether it’s a new Teammate who just signed up three weeks ago and has already reached her fundraising minimum, a novice triathlete who can’t wait to get in the water, convincing a friend to join her local chapter, learning of the passing of my first boss from ALL, or another mission moment that reminds us that the fight is not yet over, I never find myself short of motivation. As we begin our summer season, I can’t wait to get to know a new group of Teammates and learn about what motivates them. It is truly an honor to encounter so many people with some of the biggest hearts and selfless intentions. Good luck to our newest Virginia Teammates, may you get the most out of your TNT experience!
As Emma’s sign said, TNT is DY-NO-MITE!
There is no sound more annoying than the alarm clock in the early hours of the morning. This brain-splitting disruption is made all the more heinous by each moment of sleep lost from a normal routine. Normal bedtimes being midnight or later and normal waking times being 10 o’clock or (much) later means that a 6 a.m. alarm may need to fear for its life should it peal its ear-splitting cackle within reach of an instinct-driven hand. In my case, the cell phone that actually woke me was two steps from the bed and was spared my wrath because of the few moments those steps allowed my head to clear while I sought out my wicked oppressor.
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.
