The time has come. 13 months after my injury, as I’m leaving swimming one night, I see a flier advertising the ‘kick cabin fever’ indoor triathlon. My spirits rose! This was my first triathlon I’ve ever done as a team and by myself, and one that my group of friends has done regularly. Last year it wasn’t held because of covid, but this year it was back in business. I knew I could do it, because it’s time based, not distance based. It’s how far can you get in 15 minutes for each event. Swim, bike, run. Then your total distance is added together for your final score. Even if I walked the entire treadmill part, I could still finish. And the cherry on top: the proceeds go to our county’s suicide prevention services. Knife in the heart, I knew I had to do it, both for me, to prove that I could, and for my brother, who I had lost to suicide this past summer.

I pushed the poster out to my triathlon friends, and got a surprisingly negative response. 4 of them were already signed up for other events on the same day. One had to work, one declined because (wait for it…) her knee wasn’t up to running. I felt let down and betrayed. I remembered a time when my friend had breast cancer, and we all met up to do a walk to raise money for breast cancer research. All of us except her husband. And another friend made the comment,” what’s the easiest way to support a spouse who is currently in treatment for breast cancer? Walking in a walk against breast cancer.” I kept thinking in my head,” what’s the easiest way to support a friend who’s grieving the loss of her brother to suicide? Maybe participating in an event that raises money for suicide prevention?” I know everyone is busy. Everyone has work, children, partners. I know I’m not the center of the universe. I know my grief is laying heavy on me, and everyone is tired of it after 7 months. But it still hurt.

I decided to ask my 13 year old son to do it with me. Since it was for our family, and he’s done a kids’ triathlon before, I knew he could do it. He was hesitantly agreeable. we talked through every portion, laid out clothes and discussed each transition. I took him for a practice swim with me on Wednesday before the event on Saturday.

The day finally came. We got there, got marked, got ready to swim. I was more worried about James than about myself, and I lost my stride several times in the pool while I tried to watch how he was doing. It didn’t help that a super sporty guy I knew slightly from the triathlon group was swimming next to me, and he looked like a freaking dolphin in the water. But we made it through the swim, me with my fastest 100 yard time yet, and hopped out to head into T1

The bike was also pretty ok. Everyone’s resistance was at 11, And you just biked as fast as you could for 15 minutes. They let me get James’s bike set up for him, so when he ran out right at the starting time (everyone gets 5 minutes for each transition, which is a lot less time than it sounds like) he was able to jump right onto the bike and go. The staff were very encouraging of him and kept an eye on him since I couldn’t be right next to him. However he forgot his water bottle, so during T2 he ran into the locker room to get it.

And then it was down to the run. Again he made me nervous, calmly ambling out of the locker room 30 seconds before the run started. Since James ran cross country in school, I thought this wouldn’t be an issue for him. Ha! He was NOT used to running on the treadmill. He very responsibly clipped the safety clip onto his shirt, and started off. I was doing an alternating fast walk one minute, slow jog for 2 minutes, with the goal of getting one mile in for the 15 minutes. I had forgotten how heavy the legs feel after pushing so hard on the bike. I was sweaty and wet from the swim and bike, and my mask was soaking wet. Then I look over and James was leaning on the arm rails and doing this kind of leap thing. This of course lead to him pulling the safety tab out, and his treadmill stopped. The lady doing the timing didn’t actually know anything about treadmills, and they couldn’t get his to restart without losing his previous data. So she finally wrote down his distance and he restarted. But in the meantime I was distracted and lost my pace. I had to push to get to my goal, reminding myself that it was just 15 minutes. My knee felt a little weak, but it didn’t hurt, which was progress.

And just like that, it was over. We put on our race shirts and headed out. Because of covid w we weren’t encouraged to hang around or watch other contestants. Because James was so young and there were few child participants, I thought he had a good chance of winning something, but we never heard. My friends were mildly jealous because the shirts were purple, and I had to try very hard not be be irritated by this. Everyone was very supportive of both me getting back into triathlons and James participating, short of doing it themselves with us. I’m working on letting this go, but obviously I’m not there yet. I don’t know if it’s my feeling like everyone thinks I should be over my grief by now, or that it’s dark and cold and everyone’s cranky, or my general insecurities about not looking sporty and my general inabilities to do sporty things, especially after the knee. Probably a little of everything. But regardless, James and I did it, all by ourselves, and we definitely felt good about ourselves afterwards. I’m not going to let my anxiety and grief take away from my victory.