Tri High

Imagine being one of 4,000 women gathering together at the water's edge in a rainbow of swim caps.

red

blue

pink

white

yellow

purple

women of all ages, shapes and sizes filling up on one another's adrenaline. Counting it down together 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 till that final word "go" releases you all like rockets into the open water.

To emerge from the water with a thousand eyes holding you in, telling you over and over again "you look strong woman."

Peeling off swim caps and wet suits ready to find your bike amongst the masses

To start in a downpour
on a course that feels slick as oil through tunnels, over bridges, dodging waterbottles and bikers that still have "swimmer legs"

on your left

on your left

To finish only to begin again in running shoes that feel like sand bags,

last leg baby

High fiving strangers and the sweet old couple who came out on their lawn just to tell you,

we are so very proud

And the bongo players who played in the rain to inspire you to run all the way up that final hill so you could make it around the corner to see these beautiful, soggy spectators.

And when you hear your name called out as you cross the finish line you raise your arms up high in the air because you realize you've done something so good for yourself because you know that "the woman who started the race is not the same woman who finished the race."

Caution to the Wind

I Ms. Worry Mama let the G ride the kiddie rollercoaster at Seattle Center with my brother Mo but not without filling everybody up with a good, hearty dose of my neurosis first.

"The sign says he must be 42 inches tall Bro"

"So. Do you think these carny guys care? Let him go. He'll love it. Sully has been on one of these before and had a great time"

"He's gonna freak out"

"You don't know that"

"Look at that rickety old thing. Can you really trust a carny ride? I once read that..."

"Shhh. Look at the boys right now."

With Super Sully next to him, the G didn't seem at all worried, he had somehow shaken off all caution, all fear.

"Let's go on that one. Let's go on that one," he chanted along with his cousin.


Ok, Ok. He'll get to the front of the line and back out like he always does, I told myself.

"Do you want to ride that big big ride with Uncle Mo?" I asked him.

"Yeah! Yeah!" his eyes were glued to the steel wheels and without a second thought he grabbed my bro's hand and they were off.

He never turned back. As he rounded the first hill high above, I could tell he wasn't going to crumble, he wasn't going to fall apart. There were no tears, no wild hysterical crying.

I realized in this very moment that I need to do more of this...the letting go.

I walk the fine line (ok the line looks more like a toronado's path) between wanting to protect him from his fears and overprotecting him and my bro as a parent has taught me to throw caution to the wind right along with my "what's gonna happen" book.

So when my bro proposed that we take the boys kayaking, I decided not to question it this time and got right in the boat with them.