Kat and Dog

KAT AND DOG 

This, their first tandem Iron Man 21km race, was their debut run for the new athletics club. The two girls had joined the club at the same time. They were the ‘new girls’ together. They wore the green and gold with pride. No pressure then thought Kat! The athletics club was a wonderful social experience, full of camaraderie and good humor. Everyone was so supportive of the two girl's efforts in this race. They had made a whole community of new friends.

Michelle, her partner, had had a leg injury a week ago. She had overtrained and strained her hamstring. The physiotherapist had tweaked and stretched her hamstring, sometimes she thought it might snap just like an elastic band. So, it had been a tense week trying to get in the training and yet not overdo it as then the whole attempt could hang in the balance. Michelle had put on a brave face but Kat knew the effort it took her to be courageous.  And both girls had bucketloads of courage. Both had to overcome huge obstacles in their lives.

Michelle had recently lost her father, to whom she had been particularly close, so it had been a trying time for both of them. He would have been here today, she thought sadly. He was so proud of her athletic efforts and always so supportive. She decided that she would dedicate this race to him, and honor his memory. He had been such a positive influence in her life. Coping so admirably when he had been left widowed with two young daughters. With this in mind, Kat didn’t want to let her down. So much was riding on this race. The motivation for both of them was very real.

When the sun kissed the horizon, the swimmers took their marks.   

All ten of them. Salt-cracked air whispered lightly in the breeze. The sounds of the gulls overhead amplified in Kat’s ears. Undertones of the shrill oyster catcher’s cries hung in the still 

air. The sea sucked sand and retreated, back to where it had birthed the last wave.  Cold molecules hung in the new morning air from the night before. People clutched coffees and stamped their feet. Beanies and scarves were still worn, not yet discarded in the light of day. There was an anticipatory hum in the air, as if something big was about to happen. The crowds were feeling very brave, as if getting out of bed so early on a chilly morning was all their own idea.

Kat had done both full and half Iron Man, but that was before.  Before life changed. 

Shells, and sand crunched under their feet as they made their way down to the water for the starter’s gun. The whistle blew and they were off. Cold raked their bodies as they plunged through the waves. Everything seemed murky as their eyes adjusted to the misty surf. Kat rearranged her swimming goggles, they had slipped sideways in the rough surf. Neoprene wetsuits offered little protection against the cold sea. The orange marker buoys for the swimmers appeared and disappeared as they stroked their way through the water. The accompanying rubber ducks and crews bounced around on the horizon, like clown fish in multicolored outfits. Crowds clapped, waved, and cheered as the swimmers emerged. Tick! First base under the belt. 

Next, the tandem cycle. Quick change from wetsuit to cycle kit. Muscles scream in agony as if saying: ‘You fooled me once last week into thinking I’d only use these, not those!’  Kat held onto Michelle for balance as she grappled for her bike. Mounted and ready for the synchronized down stroke, the two cyclists began at the leader’s: ‘ready’ signal. Heads down, 150km to go.  Get into the zone, measured paces. Don’t blow it.  Rhythmic peddling, up, down, up, down. Trust your instinct. Easy up hills, push your speed on the downhills. 

Colorful crowds went flashing by in a blur along the cycle route. Sounds of applause, whistling, cheering them on. The exercise warmed their frozen bodies. The now warmer air flowed around them, and smells assailed their nostrils. Barbeques, hot sauces, suntan oil, chips, all magnified by the heat. 

They sensed the crowds rather than actually saw them. A loudhailer played a catchy tune from the back of a station wagon, adding to the festive atmosphere. Kat heard her name called now and again. Family and friends had come to cheer them on. She recognized her mother’s voice amongst the din: “Come on, Kat, you’ve got this one!” Her best supporter ever. 

Skidding to the finish line they parked their tandem, unclipping their cleats. Sweat poured off the girls. It was a good kind of perspiration, earned by effort and months of practice. Kat sensed Michelle grinning with satisfaction. They didn’t need to speak at that moment. Normally they were so synchronized that they finished each other’s sentences. One thought and the other followed, almost silently. Without explanations needed. 

Running shoes on, helmets off. Kat adjusted her low-resolution sunglasses. A word of encouragement from Michelle. Tuned in, she listened to every word. The 21km run was a home run for the fit, young pair. Rather flat, thought Kat. But the other teams were hot on their heels. They were lying first out of five teams. But only just! They would have to pick up the pace. Put a turn of speed into their run.  At one point Kat felt her foot glide over a cat's eye marker on the road. She caught herself just in time, avoiding a nasty fall. Kat thought she heard Michelle wince once or twice. Hoping that the hamstring was holding up she asked: “All okay?” 

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied. "Just got some sand in my shoe."

Kat listened carefully to her partner’s every word, every nuance and whisper. They ran like two well-oiled machines. Breathing in together, out together. Now, an uneven patch, now a bit of gravel. Uphill, downhill. A bend in the road. A dog barked nearby and Kat jumped.  A car horn blasted too close for comfort and both girls gave it a wide berth. The heat was starting to take its toll. They drank greedily from their water bottles and squeezy bags which hung limply around their waists on special belts. Kat's triathlon suit was beginning to chaff at the shoulders. Adjusting the slipping straps she ploughed onwards.

Finally, the home straight. Murmurings from the crowd.  A ripple of delayed excitement. Then they break into a roar as the two runners approach the end tape.  Strapped around their ankles, their timing chips register their time crossing the line. They are the first team home. None of the other teams are in sight. The red carpet and the TV screens come into view. Their images enlarged, are reflected back at them. 

The roar of the crowds is deafening. Both girls are euphoric as they hug each other. Salty tears of joy glide down their tired cheeks. Triumphant music blasts out of the loudspeakers and the Master of Ceremonies announces their win. Gold medals are reverently placed around their necks. The cameras flash and whirl around the girls. 

Kat only seeks out one very special friend. Her dog, Yella. He is waiting, tail walloping the ground, overjoyed to have her back safe. He is a blur of blonde fur as he rushes towards his blind mistress. They dance the joy of knowing that they have beaten the odds and inspired a whole generation of visually impaired athletes to take up the baton in the future. All the sacrifices, early morning training runs, travel, and juggling had been worthwhile in the end. There is a price to pay and they had paid it and reaped the rich rewards of satisfaction in knowing that the sky is the limit if your will and motivation are there.