Thursday, September 25, 2008

Triabetes Ironfans

Well, I shamelessly led out this blog entry with a picture of my lovely teen, Samantha. It's rare that Sam pays a whole lotta attention to what mom does unless what mom is doing is somehow inappropriate (ok, ok that happens a lot). But 5 minutes ago she and I were watching a top secret double-probation reel that Nella sent over today that just blew me out of the water. She showed some footage with a local fav band of mine playing. I was incredibly moved once again.

I realized as I was subjecting all of my children to watching it for the 100th time and saying "SHHHH! I'm trying to hear this part!" that Sam was once again wearing her Ironfan shirt. And I looked over and so was Jesse. We won't headcount Joey because it never matters what he is wearing because it is always covered in cat hair. If you knew him at ALL you would understand that comment.

Ironfans. I need a moment to talk about them. Wow. Did they show up in #s or WHAT? Over 200 tshirts were printed and worn by friends and family. I always new
the shirts would serve many purposes - I mean, this wasn't my first trip to the big show, baby. I knew it would serve purpose, but I am going to share with you a few times it really counted.

Swim start - I'm manning the table of ziplock bags filled with diabetes gear and glucos
e and I hear "Michelle! Michelle!" Two of my favorite triabetes fans are standing there cheering and congratulating me - Jenny and Mike Wimmer (psst they signed up for 09). They found us. All of the sudden I spot Joe's wife, Cindy, in her shirt and it allows us to stand together with Joe's family as we hear the gun go off.

The swim is over and it's time to head up to headquarters so I can debrief and head out to the bike course. A huge family co
mes running up and says, "Excuse me, do you know Peter Nerothin? I'm his dad and this is his family." Step right up Nerothin family, head up to headquarters and get some Ironfan shirts (later at the finish Peter exclaims to me, "Michelle! Did you meet my family??" A wink and a nod - of course I did!). Stop at Einstein bagel to grab quick coffee and food with Stacy Cook on our way out to the bike course and an adorable little girl and her family stop us to say they watched about our team on the news and the little girl was just diagnosed with type 1 within weeks. Out come some Ironfan shirts for the new fans and they went out to watch! A lady in Chicago cheering on the course comes up to say her mom has diabetes. The race course officials talk to me as Brian Foster tests and gets food and tells me how cool they think our project is. Ironfans. Brian is low on the run course - good thing we can spot people in Ironfan shirts for surely they will know how to help him!

And now we are at the finish line. I'm stopped literally every time I walk up and down the bleachers to hear, "we heard about you guys! My child has diabetes...my mom has diabetes...." and of course, the guy who just finishes Ironman and is hugging and kissing his wife, sees me and comes running over, grabs me and says, "I've been seeing you guys all day! Please! Meet my wife! I want her to do Ironman with me but she says she can't because she has diabetes." And out comes an Ironfan shirt for someone I hope one day becomes a Triabetic herself.

Literally, I saw Stacy Cook give her Triabetes Ironfan shirt....right off her back. Not kidding (and yes this was a very popular moment on the Midtown hill where many a triathlete thanked her and blessed her for her bikini moment.)

Triabetes Ironfans. I thank you. They thank you. We couldn't have done it without you.

Isn't that something? We started this to bring awareness....I guess we reached at least one of our goals....

2 comments:

J-Wim said...

OMG your daughter looks just like you! I thought it WAS you until I started reading.....

bigmike600 said...

I thought the same thing!!!! Let's hope she's a bit tamer than you were at that age:)

You are always welcome and I think the path you are on and what you have done is totally cool.

Still thinking how much your kid looks just like you.