From the cars, Erica and I sent the guys on their way with a kiss goodbye, not wanting them to waste another moment in trying to get down to the river. Would I see him again down there by the water? Would he know where I was, that I was there? Would I kiss him again today, before it was all over? Was it going to be okay?
It was still dark, and they hustled off down the road, weaving in and out of other athletes also trying to make it down, as well as family and other support hurrying to gather at the river. The scene that greeted us down on the river's edge was just as chaotic as you'd expect. We tried and tried to find the guys amidst the sea of wetsuits, swim caps, goggles, and crowding. DId they get settled in the transition area and make it to the water? Were they struggling or calm? Could they see us, but we couldn't see them? Were they already in the water? Were they together? It was so hard to stand there, straining to find them just one more time.
Then John found me, came over, spit out his gum into my hand (cuz that's what good support wives do!) and had me pull up and zip his wetsuit up for him. Just like that it was okay. It was going to be okay. He looked great, he sounded great, he gave me another kiss and sealed the deal. This was it. It was really going to happen. And I watched him walk down through the inflatable starting line and down into the water.
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