We parked the car in the Monona Terrace where race started twelve hours earlier. We start upstairs where the bikes are stored. I point to where my bike is parked so Jeni knows where we're going. Every other bike is parked there, pouches emptied of food. Bottles were drank. My bike had small sandwiches tucked into small netted pockets while protein/carbohydrated drinks seperated into water and gooey powder in their insulated plastic bottles.
I got on the bike and rode it through the thousands of bikes that lined the pathway to the car. It was a little too easy riding away on my own bike. I passed many nicer bikes and thought, 'I could steal that one or that one.'
Lifting up the bike, I walk it down the stairs to find the car. I put it on the bike rack. As Jeni soon arrives, we quietly head up to the Capitol Square to watch our friends finish.
The long walk from the car's parking spot to the Ironman finish line is primarily uphill. As we get closer, the crowd gets bigger and louder.
It was a contrast to the beginning of the Ironman Wisconsin. All of us walked down the round helix to the crowds getting louder and louder. We marched through like we were warriors on our way to battle. Every person clapping or yelling, looking at us. I was surrounded by some of the most important people during my training. My coach, best friends, and the people who trained with me all summer, gleefully walking down to the water.
The sun was out and the temperatures were mild. The water was calm and the crowd of athletes slowly shuffled into the water. I had the choice to leave then.
My nerves had hit an all time high. I tried to focus. But I couldn't. There were two thousand people getting in the water with me. There were thousands more watching. I hoped that I could finish the swim but I was sure if I could.
"You can't." the ghost of Tom stands in the lake, ankle high.
"I have to try." I imagined the girl in the pool. She got me to the end when I needed her.
"What are you afraid of?" her image is emblazed as cool, chatting woman who is laying on the bed. I see her as if I was laying there, too.
Looking at her, "There are things I can't control." My heart is racing but her comfort does nothing while Tom's ghost just watches.
I thought I spotted him look away from me when I saw her say, "You have to get out there now."
I'm taking deep breaths and trying to calm down, "I'm out there." I'm at the starting line, treading water and putting my head under and making a few strokes.
I get up and see Tom's ghost cusping his hands around his mouth. His voice is amplified, "Look how far away those buoys are." He points and nods.
Night descends on the finish line. Jeni and I are standing at the chute that leads to the finish. Like a rush, everyone I know in the race finish inside the thirteen to fourteen hour mark. Their end seem to be swallowed up by the finish line crowd and the dark. There was no reason to stay anymore.
They drifted off and we started back home. Jeni and I are quiet but the girl is still in bed, looking at me. Tom is in the car already buckled into his seat where Franny usually sits. I wonder to Tom, "Do I come back from this?"
"If you come back from this," Tom looks out the back seat window, "it will be from revenge."
"From who?"
"Me."
My swim was so slow that I only got to the starting line about five minutes into the race. After I got to the start line, I looked ahead and saw the crowd flying away. I started stroking, then would lose my breath, then tried to collect myself by using the breast stroke. Taking a deep breath, I plunged under to take forty more strokes and I would lose my breath and come up at twenty-five strokes. Breaststroking more, I saw the crowd going away but I was ahead of six people.
I gave it another shot and put my head under and began swimming. I went for thirty strokes and came back up completely out of breath then saw the crowd damn near the corner while I was only hitting the quarter buoy. I put my head under and got only three strokes before I lost my breath. My timing started getting off and I was getting increasing frustrated since my performance was much worse than most of my practices. I would get three more strokes and need to breast stroke.
I peek back and see two of the swimmers behind me getting pulled out. The one swimmer performing the backstroke was still going. I'm startled to see the canoe almost right beside me. It's this kid who doesn't want to look like he's paying attention to me, but he's kayaking right next to me, "Keep it up, man. You're doing it." He's not exactly a woman giving me pillow talk but it was encouraging.
My stroke count was consistently getting shorter and shorter. I was getting more and more frustrated. It was getting clearer to me that it was happening. The crowd was on the other side of the 1.2 mile loop while I didn't even reach the quarter mile. I checked my watch and I started hyper ventilating, "Get me out. Get me out." I splash. I forget all trust I had in my wet suit, "I'm drowning," I weeze, I flip myself over and I recall the lesson where Jessica holds onto my hand as she pulls me out to the water in Fireman's Park.
She told me, "You are doing fine. Get your mind off of this." I'm floating on my back weezing in Lake Monona as I did on that day, "You hear the joke about the jump rope?"
I'm floating on the water's surface and she answers the question, "Let's just skip it."
I find myself back at the Ironman.
When I was getting out the water, the water was calm and the crowd of swimmers were far gone from me. To this day, I keep mulling over the Ironman Wisconsin like it was a lover who I let move away. Like I was letting a pet that I loved die. The swimmers kept going farther and farther away from me like a pack of buffalo running away for its life, leaving the weak behind to be eaten by the oncoming predator. In some ways, I was eaten up but there was sense of relief. All this heartache and trouble and anger and pain was over. But now I see it's just the beginning for me.
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