There is a joke within my family that in case your van ever breaks down (or bullock cart, depending on the century) ANYWHERE in South India, all you would have to do is walk about 3 kilometpaers and you would find some relative or the other that would take you in. I thought this WAS a joke until our van DID break down on a tour with my lovely grammie, whose feet I would sit at for hours as she sang to me, told me stories or brought her recipes alive while feeding me quietly on the side during festivals. My grammie wrote songs for the greatest Bharatnatyam dancers in South India, learned Sanskrit when she injured her back and was unable to get out of bed for a year and dragged herself up 35 steps on a Monday morning, when we had the Varalakshmi puja (when I was around 12) and all of us had slept in (the festival had to start at 5am as we had to be in school by 7:30) even though she couldnt walk that year (owing to the same injuries).

After participating (notice, participating, not completing/racing/nailing/burning-tracks) at Ultraman Canada this weekend, I can say that if my van ever breaks down anywhere in life, all I have to do is write an e-mail or think of the 40-odd people that are now my new found extended family.

I will not belabor the effort it took the get to the start line. I will not tell you that I found so much kindness and generosity in a fellow Indian Dev Paul, whose gesture to pay the entry fee made me bawl on so many training sessions that I was barely completing thanks t 4-5 hours of sleep total all of June and July. I will not tell you about my run in with the best in the business of jerkdom for 7 months (stop it already!). I will not tell you about my crew who taught me a LOT about myself and made me realize that while I am allowed a bit of immaturity, senior citizens are not. Since I will be one next year, Im glad I finished this race this year.

So currently, I am bikeless and browner than ever..

What I will tell you however is that I found my new family. The first day I was hoping to complete the swim in about 4 hours and the ride in about 5. My favourite crew member was the paddler, who was kindness itself.Thank you Wanda! The swim was just amazing............. I was so happy........... the lake was very pretty, peaceful and murmuring the whole time about love, support and happiness. There were hills every which way I looked and my favourite color -- GrEEN... I also got to eat marble chocolate cake and coffee so, I couldnt have had a better swim session. In my greatest moment of doubt, I looked over to Wanda and thought how amazing she was to have driven 10 hours to be my eyes on the swim... and how supportive her words were to me and that I had to learn to trust her when she said we were going straight.. and trust her I did.

The bike started off normally but, the heat was unbelievable. I had no doubt that I was going to finish but as time went on, I had to get off twice to avoid dizziness and nausea. I realized later that I should have kept myself cool with sponges and focused on my race, rather than trying to please my crew with stories and tales at every stop. My eventual host family, Al Kidd was the race marshall and he saw that I was in trouble, 50ks from the finish. He handed me a big bottle of water and said "you can make it, kick ass". I knew I could make it even though I was suffering... but eventually drama enfolded as these events are very hard on the crew, who have to drive and stop the car nearly every 10ks .... I avoided pit stops like the plague in the last 20 or so ks and asked al to hand me water as best as he could as I was afraid they would stop me and take my bike away.. they wanted me to stop every kilometer (for the last 20, which would have ensured a DNF).

At the end of day 1, Al was kind enough to take me in. I slept 4 hours and started day 2 severely dehydrated. The crew chief and I decided to keep our issues out and finish day 2. When I started day2, I had a lot of doubts about finishing but I could only think about the "Drink and pee, no IV" mantra from an AIDS ride I did in 2003. I drank and salted and peed like a maniac in the first two hours and got stronger as the day went on.

Al Kidd is a gift to the misfits, waifs and strays of the world. He was a bit surpised when I woke up at 4am on day 2 and insisted that he take me to Dennys (after eating at Dennys the night before) for the purchase of 5 milkshakes as nutrition for day 2. I figured the less time I stopped, the more I would move and the less I would talk to said crew... better for my race. Now Dennys, for the uninformed, is an elite eating institution that deserves the utmost respect. When I was a woman in Engineering in Raleigh, North Carolina, hanging out with my best friends (most of whom are gay, artistic and extremely opinionated, specially about spam in tins), I was introduced to this institution and another one called Waffle house.. Dennys however became a permanent fixture in my life thorough my working career, so much so that me and the other engineers at Austin would wear lipstick to this place (except the one time when it was 3am and we were there after a project deadline and heard a bald white guy talking about stalking his ex and looking over to us at alarmingly frequent intervals). So, Dennys was my secret nutrition (as were slurpies and snickers bars). The last 60 ks were very rough on me but, all I could see was my mom's face and hear her voice. The only person that told me all year, over and over, that I should start the race.. finishing was not important and irrelevant... starting was. She is the voice in my head and the wind on my back and I see farther because I am on the shoulders of giants, my parents.

A lot fo people struggled on day 2 and while I had a lot of mental demons and had nothing to give to the others in terms of energy (my fellow competitors SPECIALLY) who had so much love and encouragement and made me BELIEVE That there were 40 people who wanted me to succeed. I heard ALL the things they said and it meant the WORLD to me. We ended day 2 on a positive note and there were hugs, kisses and smiles all the way. And no, I did not see the Hilton on the way to Summerland..

My friend Roberto who was crewing for his 28 year old nephew and held ice on my head and encouraged me a lot on day 2 told me tat no one quit on the run and that I should rest and give it my all on day 3... the toughest part was behind me. I met an amazing kid called Matt at the end of day 2 and his parents and him were my real crew for day 3.

I was so estatic starting the run... even blew kisses to my crew for the first marathon even though I couldnt talk or say anything to my amazingly handsome shadow, John Callos... who ran the damn thing with a broken foot. My other shadow harvey told me that Seymour Cray wouldve been proud of me and I laughed to myself... good ol' Minnesota and the mid-west, I-heart-the-mid-west (THE mid-west, no place like it). When I did have trouble communicating with the crew car, I focused on all the good things they had done for me in the last three days.
They brought along Wanda, a gem in the sky and an all round awesome person. They picked me up at 1am on Friday morning after delayed flights. They helped me do a quick re-con of the course. They put back sunglasses on my face when I dropped mine, past the wall... Better to focus on the good things, I told myself. Being crew is a thankless job.. the athlete is in a bubble with a good crew.

Past the first marathon, I was in the company of my beautiful friends Beth Brewster, her amazing crew who made me laugh my head off with funky chicken moves, pom poms and Beth with her red socks and amazing attitude. Jennifer Huffman was kicking some serious ass up the hills and keeping me alive by asking me to get out of the traffic.. The last 10ks were an act of faith. I was so broken somewhere... but I started to hear Mattis voice, his promise to wait for me at the finish and thought how nice it would be if we could leave our egos at home like children did. You got me to the finish Champ, TRUST ME :) I am loving the thought of watching you grow up... you are my hero Matti!

In the last 3ks, I met three angels called Sheena, Alexis and Darwin Holt. My guiding light was Al Kidd again, telling me the splits (and lying through his teeth as it turned out :) making the distance shorter than it was). Sheena held me hand for the last 2 ks, Alexis gave me water and coke and Darwin looked concerned but said "get her some coke".

I was spent at the finish line. That was all I had to give that day. Matti, Mori, Brenda, Dorette, Beth, Jennifer, Rachel (all these kids were here to greet me) as were the RD Steve Brown (who has been AMAZING and is one of the last AMAZING RDs in this age of WTC-controlled BS). Tracey and Michael held my head and warmed my muscles as I shivered uncontrollably for nearly 90 minutes at the finish. The massage table came to me :) Matti was there the whole time and I was trying to look strong but, I am not sure I did.

There are too many amazing people to thank... I am sorry if I left anyone out.. Sheryl and David Cobb, Curtis, Rick Kent, Kelvin, Mrs. Harvey, the little mister from Seattle and his amazing parents, connie, the handsome spanish men (oooooooooooooh...... Im in love with SPAIN and all things spanish), the brilliant brazilian, the shirtless giorgio, the amazing shanna armstrong who got me started on this crazy journey, Jason Lester (you are a LEGEND, I LOVE YOU), simon poo-bear bourne, the german wolf :), Paddy M, Jason, Sara, Todd (!!! ROCKSTAR), the amazing top 2 and their shirtless crews (views were VERY appreciated :) :)).......... THANK YOU. It takes a village to (have a breakdown) and get an Indian to the finish line.. And of course, the amazing Steve King and Neil and Gwyn Kidd........ Every minute in the ER and medical bill was worth it.

Until next time, FEEL THE MUSIC!