recently my friend em conquered her second ironman race in madison, wisconsin. man it was a beautiful day. i've seen her do this once before in 2009 and it a little bit changed my whole life.
it was a hot day in september. about 87 degrees. that's a great day for hanging out but not for exerting monumental effort in no shade for between 11 to 17 or so hours like the competitors did. i had stayed with em in her room the night before- ate with her, talked with her, prayed for her body and her safety and her joy. she went to bed really early, and got up earlier than she had to so she could shower, prep, and give the day to the Lord.
the swim start was like nothing i had ever seen. over 2500 people in an expansive blue dish, heads lightly bobbing treading water ducking around in the final surging anticipation of the relief of a finish. the gun blows and all at once the whole mess of them explodes in a frothy mixer. the early crowd cheers and sips coffee, squinting vainly to pick out their one beloved in the infinity of rubber caps and feet and arms, secretly almost wishing that they, too, were in the water, kicking and jostling and gasping.
i was cheering too. and during the bike, when she whizzed by 2 times, i cheered. and during the run, i zigged and zagged my way through the funky little streets so i could be at any possible point to see her and cheer for her again and cheer for her again.
the cheering changed me way down on the inside of my little soul. i had never really all-out cheered for anyone before. i was standing at the finish line jumping up and down screaming and snotting my pigtails off in a cathartic sunburned frenzy for no reason except my friend had worked super hard to get there and for that i wanted her to do well. for once for once for once i wasn't even in the equation. i had nothing to gain. i wasn't jealous. i wasn't experiencing any creative satisfaction from watching her. i just wanted her to rock that ironman because she wanted to rock that ironman. i wrenched a little bit more free from bad stef that day and thank God for it. there's nothing so sad as a girl who can't cheer for her friend.
or her man. so much the little yoko can get bitter about the race she has to run. feeling like nobody is zigging around cheering her on. like she's the one who deserves all the praise. take the yoko out and be free. we are the ones who need to cheer. we need to really see how great it is what they're doing and how much they love it and how they get better when we're not factoring ourselves in all the freaking time. they just want to rock and all they want is for us to yell loud, to cheer without reserve, all they want is just another yoko.
it was a hot day in september. about 87 degrees. that's a great day for hanging out but not for exerting monumental effort in no shade for between 11 to 17 or so hours like the competitors did. i had stayed with em in her room the night before- ate with her, talked with her, prayed for her body and her safety and her joy. she went to bed really early, and got up earlier than she had to so she could shower, prep, and give the day to the Lord.
the swim start was like nothing i had ever seen. over 2500 people in an expansive blue dish, heads lightly bobbing treading water ducking around in the final surging anticipation of the relief of a finish. the gun blows and all at once the whole mess of them explodes in a frothy mixer. the early crowd cheers and sips coffee, squinting vainly to pick out their one beloved in the infinity of rubber caps and feet and arms, secretly almost wishing that they, too, were in the water, kicking and jostling and gasping.
i was cheering too. and during the bike, when she whizzed by 2 times, i cheered. and during the run, i zigged and zagged my way through the funky little streets so i could be at any possible point to see her and cheer for her again and cheer for her again.
the cheering changed me way down on the inside of my little soul. i had never really all-out cheered for anyone before. i was standing at the finish line jumping up and down screaming and snotting my pigtails off in a cathartic sunburned frenzy for no reason except my friend had worked super hard to get there and for that i wanted her to do well. for once for once for once i wasn't even in the equation. i had nothing to gain. i wasn't jealous. i wasn't experiencing any creative satisfaction from watching her. i just wanted her to rock that ironman because she wanted to rock that ironman. i wrenched a little bit more free from bad stef that day and thank God for it. there's nothing so sad as a girl who can't cheer for her friend.
or her man. so much the little yoko can get bitter about the race she has to run. feeling like nobody is zigging around cheering her on. like she's the one who deserves all the praise. take the yoko out and be free. we are the ones who need to cheer. we need to really see how great it is what they're doing and how much they love it and how they get better when we're not factoring ourselves in all the freaking time. they just want to rock and all they want is for us to yell loud, to cheer without reserve, all they want is just another yoko.
