June 26, 2006 | Mama Smith

the wild ride of race weekend

When you get the Hall family together, there is bound to be chaos that will ensue and multiple change-of-plans. From a missed bus in D.C., to race bikes left in the shop, to being drug out of the Schuykill River by a medic boat. It was a memory-maker of a weekend for sure!

In all honesty, I’d rather write about any of the other stories of this weekend than my own, not for any other reason, than simply because my own dissappointment is still so fresh and raw and it keeps coming in waves just when I think I’m over it. It may seem like a silly thing to some – a race, a finish line, the completion of a task you set before yourself a handful of months ago. But for me, the struggle with what it means to have invested so much emotional and physical time and energy into these past four months and to not cross the finish line, is harder than I would have expected.

A phone call from my midwife, later in the afternoon on Friday, upon studying my ultrasound results she just received from the hospital, caused her to change her mind about okaying the race. Due to intensity of the cramps caused by the cyst, she urged me to back down in case it ruptured, or if I wouldn’t to that, to at least take it really, really slow. I opted for the later.

So Callie and I headed down bright and early Saturday morning, with our power breakfast and the music blasting. The energy of the race was contagious when we arrive, even with the dreary, foggy weather. We unloaded our bikes and made the trek to our transition area to get set up. We passed the 2 hours pre-race time sipping on Gatorade, dipping our feet in the river and checking out the buoys for our swim route, talking to other folks around us about tips and advice and sharing our stories of preparation for the event. After seeing the river, I was getting more and more excited for the swim and to get the race started. For those of you who’ve done these things, you know how insanely long those hours feel pre-race!

The hour finally came and our wave, women 34 and under, were called to shore. We waited for the two waves before us, then waded in to the murky Schuylkill waters. We all wished each other good luck as we tread in ther river, waiting for our start. Then we were off. It was so surreal. I swore my heart would beat right out of my chest with the adreneline pumping so hard. About halfway through my swim, the cramps over my cyst that I’d been having on and off through the morning began to persist and at one point became so sharp, I had to stop and tread for a minute. About a hundred voices were going through my head, “Come on, you’ve gotta do this! Why are you doing this? You HAVE to do this, just finish, you’ll be fine! Will I be fine? Will this baby be fine?” Callie and I had just talked about your body being able to go five times more than your mind will, minutes before the race. I was not going to stop. But how much of this was my body, carrying a baby, saying stop? As I’m going through this debate in my head, the pain is getting more intense and one of the kayak guards yells out to me if I’m okay. I shake my head and she comes over. I briefly explain to her the events of the past two days, and next thing I know, I’m wisked into the medic boat and taken ashore. Praying that Callie doesn’t see me and freak out.

As I’m laying on the cot in the medic tent soaking wet and freezing as fans blasted me, being poked and proded and questioned by a slew of nurses – who were either bored because no one was there yet or overly concern because I’d flashed the “pregnancy card”- I was fighting back tears and couldn’t believe it was over. Their diagnosis – the cyst probably ruptured. Take it easy, call your midwife and watch for possible signs of problems later in the day. I was released into the pouring rain and that was that.

Matthew and my parent’s hadn’t arrived yet, so I tried to salvage whatever dry article of clothing I could find and hustled to the bike route to try and spot Callie to keep cheering her on. I saw her finish her first loop and start her second, and then suddenly nothing mattered at that moment than seeing her finish. Finally the fan club arrived and we were able to watch Callie dash across the finish line in amazingly under two hours!! I was so proud of her!!

So yes, it was a day full of mixed emotions, but ultimately a sweet one. A few more pictures of the eventful day…

The sisters being body marked

White Amy, Tan Callie

Brighton sharing in Aunt Callie’s glory “borrowing” her medal for awhile

My awesome support team over these past few months, giving me up many hours as I headed off to the gym

The little trooper obviously having a ball after battling pouring rain and missed nap times to join the festivities

The madness only continued into the evening and next day as Dad prepared for his coming Olympic triathlon. I don’t have the pictures yet for this event, as they’re on Mom’s camera, and want to give it just as much honor, so I’m going to keep you hanging for those details until tomorrow when I’ll post the pictures and the full story. But I HAVE to say today, “Way to go Santini!!”. It was one of the proudest moments I’ve felt for him as he RAN across the finish line after that insane event! He, he…that’ll keep you coming back for more :0)

So just to wrap this all up, we’re all alive and kicking and recovering after the wild and wooly weekend. Even the non-triathletes! It was an emotional roller-coaster apart from the whole physical exertion aspect. I felt like I had the flu for the last 48 hours and I only swam for 30 mintues on Saturday! I think the adreneline really did me in, and the cramps that have intensified since the events of Saturday. We’re all a little pooped, but thankful for the memories that were made and for the chance to do this together as a family. I think this weekend has made us all more than ready for our get-away to the Outer Banks in a few weeks to do nothing more than sit on the beach, soaking up the rays, eating some good food and laughing about our triathlon adventures.

The amusing side-note: despite the insanity, we’ve already started talking about the Philly Tri ‘07…it’s officially happened…like they say…it’s in our blood now!