2011 YWCA Women's Triathlon - Race Report

2011 YWMC Women’s Triathlon
Race Report

Racer: Diane Jorgensen of Minneapolis
Bib number 482


Race Date: 8/14/2011
Race: 2011 YWCA of Minneapolis Women’s Triathlon
500yd Swim in Lake Nokomis, 15.5mile bike along Mississippi River, 5K run around Lake Nokomis
Weather: mostly sunny, low/mid 70’s with no humidity, 0-3 mph winds.

Before the Race

I wanted to be there when the transition area opened, at 5:30. I decided I would be least anxious if I could be there and start getting settled in early. And, that way, we’d have the best parking options. After discussing it with Joanne we agreed that Romie was old enough (she’s 5 now) to be able to attend the entire event, including getting up really early. Eunice, from Peru/Costa Rica, was staying with us and wanted attend. I had told her we were going early. I had previous told Joanne too, of course. Her response was that she would do whatever she needed to do to support me. The night before Jennifer told me she wanted to meet at my house in the morning and follow me out to the park. I told we were leaving at 5:00. That was a bit early for her, but she was game.

My alarm went off at 4:30 and I was up and moving. I had prepared as much as possible the night before, with things in organized bags and a list of everything I had to gather and get in the car in the morning. I got my things ready, feeling a bit uninspired perhaps, but resolved. I ate some breakfast, made a bit of coffee, and started packing the car. I went upstairs and woke up Joanne, and then Romie, and they got up. I finished packing the car as they were getting ready and started getting my bike on the rack. Jennifer pulled up behind me with her daughter Erin in the front seat, and got her bike from my back yard and worked to get her rack on the car and her bike on the rack. Joanne and Romie came out, and assisted Jennifer. We were pleasant with each other, subdued, as is typical before a pre-dawn adventure. Eunice made it outside before we were completely ready, surprising herself that she could, in fact, get up before the sun. Tania and come in the night with the boys, and before we left she was standing on the porch, getting last minute things from the house for us, and enjoying the quiet excitement. There was a lot of last minute grabbing this or getting that. We left 15 minutes or so behind schedule. I had planned about 15 minutes of lee-way, and thus was pleased.

As we approached Lake Nokomis in the pre-dawn light, there was fog over the lake and the ball field. It reminded me of a mystical land, Avalon perhaps. We parked on Cedar and started the long walk across the field to the parking lot now converted into a Tri Event Transition Area. We were all packed down with bags, bikes, and a big purple balloon. There were plenty of people there already, but it wasn’t particularly crowded. And, there were plenty of open picnic tables just off the beach swim start. Apparently most early arrivals come alone and leave their families to find them later. I pointed Jo toward the picnic tables, told her I would find them there, and we kissed goodbye. Jennifer and I headed into the T Area with our bikes, picked a spot next to each other in the middle of the rack, and set up our areas. We separately found our way to the chip pick up. Together we made our way to the marking tent. There was no line, and we joked with the woman about tickling us with the marker. She asked my age. I told her 41 because I thought I remembered we go by our age as of December late year. But, she didn’t ask that, she had asked “how old are you.” We discussed the criteria and she left it up to me. I picked 41, not only because I thought that was accurate for the race officials, but also because I was only a day short of it.

We walked over to home base, the picnic table Joanne had picked out. As we approached my wife’s head was in her arms, resting, exhausted. As soon as she realized we were heading hwe way (we weren’t even close yet) she popped up, alert, enthusiastic, and ready to show me her love and support. For the next hour and a half Jennifer and I wandered. I checked the transition area, took walks in search of my friends from work who were also racing, and tried to decide the best time to use the bathroom. I decided to use it about 7:00 I think. I wanted to get there before the line was too long, but not too far before the race. When I got there, there was a line, but it was short. Women weren’t standing directly in front of each port-a-potty. We were in a doubled line, in front of sections of port-a-potties. At one point I was in the front of the line, with women spaced out on each side of me. Someone to my right asked if the potty a few to my left was open. The handle was on green, yet no-one had moved toward it and as I had been watching I hadn’t sensed that there was an opening. I was perplexed, and verbally stated that I would check the door. I opened it, and sitting on the toilet was a naked athlete, breasts bared, a look of surprise on her face and just beneath that, a look of dread, as if she were incredibility concerned about her ability to survive the race. I apologized and closed the door in a fraction of a second, walked back to my place embarrassed but perplexed that the door had opened at all. The same woman who had spoken earlier reassured me, telling me that the door at least, would now be locked. Indeed, the woman had locked it behind me. Seconds later there was a true opening in a nearby porta potty, and I took my turn. Returning to camp I declared myself ready, and told everyone who cared to hear that I would rather just start this thing now, thank you very much. Jennifer’s oldest, who had arrived earlier with her boyfriend and best friend, acknowledged me.

At 7:25 I went back to the Transition Area to check my bike one last time before it closed. Jennifer asked me to check her bike, too. All looked well, exactly as we had left it. I ran through the check list of items there for the 22nd time, and couldn’t think of anything missing or anything that needed to moved even a fraction of a centimeter from where I had it. I walked around the outside then the inside of the T Area – still looking for friends. I saw Kristen and Kris, just walking in with their bikes. Kristen passed right by me, unseeing, realizing she had less than 3 minutes to get her area set up. Kris saw me, and I said hello, I realized she was late, and I wasn’t going to keep her because I knew she was late.

Waiting by base camp for the 7:45 mandatory meeting Nereida found me. She seemed calm, confident, and ready. She told me her whole family was here, and we promised to meet up at the end. Many minutes later, while pacing around, I found Sue P. walking by. She was excited. It was good to hear her excitement, I soaked it in like the sun. Her friend was with her and we did introductions all around. I talked to Sue, who had survived a serious bike accident with mere scrapes a few weeks earlier, while Jennifer spoke to her friend. I assume they were talking about this being their first triathlon and how they were experiencing that. Sue and I were both seasoned, having completed our first one a year before. We talked until it was time to head down to the pre-race meeting. Well, we kind of kept talking, making it difficult to hear the muffled announcements. We finally quit our jabbering when the National Anthem played.

With the meeting completed and the race ready to start, we headed back to base camp. Hugs and kisses to family, Joanne beaming as if I were in the Olympics, ready to win gold. Romie confused about where I was going and why, though it had been explained to her many times.

Back on the beach, waiting for the wave, I was with Jennifer, then lost her, then with her, then panicking because our wave was moving forward and I couldn’t find her. Of course, she was already in line. Just before catching up to her I had chatted with Kristen, before she ran off to see Nereida off in a wave 3 before mine.

They called my wave, and we moved forward. I was ready, nervous and confident at the same time, and realized I truly didn’t have the excitement from last year. I wanted to fast forward 3 hours and be done with it. After all, my goal in doing this was to force myself to be active the months before, and I had done that. How important was it to force myself beyond my comfort zone when I had proved myself last year? I didn’t feel as ready as last year. I felt tired, and just not incredibly motivated. As soon as I realized that I would do this anyway, I was able to stop that insane self-talk.

Our wave was called to move over the timer to activate the chips. We walked slowly, two or three abreast, as if we were told to do that. We weren’t. We probably could have leaped through there and activated them. Crossing that matt kicked things in for me. I was doing this. It was going to start. Let’s Go! I scanned the spectator line for my family. I didn’t see them, but, OMG, there was Sarah, my friend from Toastmasters. I had no idea she would be there. Incredible! Wonderful! Fantastic. I blew her kisses, waved, and jumped up and down. (Maybe I didn’t jump up and down but it felt like I was jumping). Then I saw my family. Ah, they were so beautiful, smiling, beaming still. My wife, my daughter, and my friend Eunice, all three there only for me. Their cameras were pointed my way, and I waved. I turned to the water as the countdown started and had to hold my arms out because Jennifer was hugging me. “Thank You” she said.” I’ll see you at the end” I said.” Remember, don’t leave without me!” She moved to the center of our group well I hung back, trying to decide how far I wanted to be not only in the back, but the outside. And then the countdown started. The announcer, the spectators, and the athletes starting after us shouting in unison. 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1, horn blaring.



THE RACE

Swim
It seemed like forever after the countdown before I actually got in the water. I kind of wondered if it was really necessary for me to be that far on the outside and the back. Apparently it was, or I was simply faster than I expected, because within seconds I was getting shoved around.

The swim was hard. I had people bumping into me carelessly. I couldn’t see from the glare of the sun. I kept stopping to get my bearings. I was trying to make sure I was going the right direction, and I was looking for a bubble where I could swim without people crashing into me. I wasn’t concerned enough with winning to play bumper swimmers with the fellow racers. At one point I swallowed water, and came up gurgling. I didn’t want the lifeguards to think I was in trouble, so focused on recovering quickly. Moments later things just felt wrong, like someone had tilted the lake, sending me in the wrong direction. I looked up, squinting. I had almost run into an octopus with yellow legs. No, it wasn’t an octopus, it was life guard with noodles, she was pointing the other way. I looked that direction, and realized I had been swimming into the line and not toward the buoy. I changed direction, and for a few minutes, was able to feel the rhythm of uninterrupted swimming. It was then that the anxiety came into focus. I wasn’t panicky as I was last year. This was a physical feeling, localized to my legs. It wasn’t a cramp and it wasn’t a tremble, but it felt like my legs were experiencing my anxiety. It was incredibly uncomfortable. And, presto, I heard in Dory from Nemo in my mind “just keep swimming. Then someone crashed into me. What the… again, I thought. Again, I stopped, did the breast stroke to be able to look up and get my bearings. I swam farther to the outside to get away from her and all the others that seemed all around me. Last year, I had a nice bubble almost the enire way. You know what, I think I was a swimmer’s buoy. She crashed into me again. I was almost to the last corner. I just wanted to be done. I made the corner, and swam as hard as I could. It sure seemed like the last time I had been in this lake I could feel sand on my hands earlier than this. I pushed, and pushed, women on both side, in front, and more catching up behind. Finally, I was close. I swam as far as I could go without being beached, righted myself precariously, and was out of the water, trotting toward land. I saw my family, tried to smile for their cameras, grabbed their hands as I walked by, and handed Joanne my goggles and my swim cap. It was only later that I realized I could maybe get penalized for that; getting help from spectators. I was a little off balance from the swim, as usual. And, you know, it’s not like my balance is that good anyway. I slowed up to rinse my feet in the kiddy pool and almost fell over. I thought I heard Megan gasp. I tried again, slower. I was successful, did the other foot, and continued trotting to the T-Area. I was exhausted!

T1
I pulled on my shorts and grabbed everything in my first pile and headed over to the curb. I had planned to sit down rinse my feet, throw baby powder on my feet, and then put on my socks and shoes. My p-l-a-n was to do that quickly. I couldn’t seem to get the hang of things and kept dropping things. Shish-kabob, I hadn’t thought to take the paper off of the top of the trial size powder. I was losing precious seconds turning into minutes, all the while realizing my family was watching. Finally, I had my feet prepared. I walked quickly to my bike. It was alone in the rack, easily accessible. I snapped on my helmet, pulled on my gloves, and trotted out the T-Area. There, at the corner, was my family. Hi family. “I love you!” I said. “I’ll see you in an hour or so.” I heard Romie protest and start to cry and saw Jo bend over to reassure her as I walked away, mounted by bike, and pushed off.

The Bike
I was excited about the bike ride. There was no wind! I had done it 3 times this season, and biking was my best section last year. I don’t know if the wind picked up or my calves got a flat, but I could not pick up and maintain a good speed. The ride seemed more hilly than ever before. And each mile was pure countdown, self-talk. And, my legs continued to feel anxious, carrying that burden for my body and my mind. I tried to remind myself how beautiful the ride was, but it was heartless. And perhaps I was in an earlier wave than the year before. My wave last year had 3 minutes head start from my wave this year. It seemed that when I passed volunteer corners they were already bored. They had their colorful shirts on, but were fairly quiet. Sometimes I’d hear a Way to Go, or Keep It Up Diane (our names were on our bibs this year) but it was almost always in a low tone. There was an exception. There was one group just north of the Ford Bridge that I heard a half a mile away. They were so happy to see me I think, because every rider gave them an excuse for their excitement. They were fun.

Early on Kristen and Kris passed me. They were riding like it was country community ride, steady, easy, happy. Soon other people passed me. OK, a lot of riders passed me. Many more riders than last year passed me. I passed one or two. One I passed said “Hi Diane” as I went by. I didn’t know who it was, but thinking back, it was probably Nereida. I don’t know why I didn’t recognize her. Other riders were kind and polite. I must have been in a mood though, because I heard negativity in many of their comments, such as “you’re looking good, the important thing is that you made it out here at all”.

When I crossed the Lake Street bridge I was going faster than the woman in front of me. As I came up to her, she sped up. I didn’t have the energy to burst ahead of her, so I dropped back, not wanting to get a penalty for drafting. It was as little frustrating, I was already having difficulty maintaining a decent speed.

When I got to the turn around, mentally, I felt better. There was only 5 miles left. I knew I could do it. As I came out of the parking lot I saw Nereida. We yelled at each other and praised each other. She was truly just a minute or two behind me, and she looked terrific; confident and strong. I trudged on.

Crossing the Hwy 55 bridge, a woman passed me going just about my speed. She slowed down to talk to me, telling me that she was looking forward to being done with this and spending the afternoon at a pool party, having people fetch her things while she relaxed. With the exception of my friends, she was the sweetest person I had come across since my knees had been soaked. But again, I didn’t want to get penalized for drafting, so I kept slowing down to be at least 3 bike lengths behind her and she’d slow down to be able to keep talking to me, looking back at me. I think she eventually realized I was backing off of her. She looked ahead, said, “bye, enjoy the rest of the race” and was off. Less than a mile later, coming up to a stoplight, I wondered why I had worried about drafting at all. All of sudden I was in a pack, women biking two deep to the left of me behind me. Where did they come from? Who would get penalized for this, and how could we get out of it anyway we were so packed together? I tried to pick a spot away from them, and again made sure I was as far as I could be to the right. After several blocks I was single file. They may or may not have been single file, but they weren’t by me, and it wasn’t my concern.

All around the lake I was looking for Jennifer. I didn’t know where she’d be, but I knew she’d be at the run well before me, and I was hoping to see her. The last 3 miles felt like 10. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t done yet, I wasn’t going faster than my steady 11 or 12 mph, and that it was so difficult. I was relieved to know that chances were less and less likely that I would get a flat tire, or at least a flat that would keep me from finishing the race. I could walk an extra mile or so if I had to. As I crossed Cedar it seemed like the dismount area was receding from me rather than getting closer. It was like some strange magic trick. I had slowed down a little early, to give myself extra time to dismount. I had stopped too quick last year and had almost fallen. Just before the dismount I saw Jennifer stretching against a tree. I knew she was stopped because of a physical thing and she was trying to work it out. I yelled at her. She looked up surprised, said hello and smiled, and then started off to the path. A second or two later I saw Nereida’s family. I yelled at them, told them I had seen Nereida, and she was looking great! Finally, I saw the dismount area. My dismount was smooth, and I quickly walked into the Transition Area.


T2
My family has all of my memories of the transition area during round two. I heard them first, and then saw them. They were against the fence, nearest base camp. Romie looked wet. She had on her bathing suit and Lazy Man Tri cover up. Joanne was at her side, waving at me, still smiling like I ruled her universe. Eunice was there, snapping photos. I waved at them and knew they were watching me as I transitioned. I opened up a cliff bar and took a bite. I almost spit it out. I didn’t want to eat it. I mean, I really didn’t want to eat it. I knew I should get a few calories in me, but it was gross. I decided to walk with it. I drank water. My helmet was off, and I walked off. Joanne yelled, “are you allowed to have your gloves?” I still had my bike gloves on. “Yes, but I don’t want them on. I forgot.” I headed back to deposit them, gratefully took the water offered at the corner and came extremely close to falling on my big nose as I tripped over the cord of the timing matt at the edge of the transition area.

The Run
As the ground started to reach up to squish my nose, a volunteer groaned, “ooohhh”. I somehow managed to stay on my feet and stood up straight. I looked back in the direction of the voice of the invisible volunteer, “I’m OK. I’m good!” and I kept walking. I think this was just out of site of my family, several feet ahead, hidden from view by the crowd. I high-fived my amazing family as I walked along, and headed off down the path.

I tried another bite of cliff bar and confirmed I did not want it. I didn’t want to throw it though. I might want it later. I didn’t have shorts in my pockets, but I did have one behind my shirt. I reached back, struggled to find it, yanked on it, and dropped it in. I felt it sliding down my buttocks. Oops, I hadn’t put it in my shirt pocket, I had dropped it down the back of my still damp shorts. I laughed at myself, realized I could not inconspicuously pull it out, but stepped to the side and did the best I could to dislodge it before too many people noticed, as I pulled it out of the bottom of the short plant leg. I held it in my hand, really just wanting to be rid of it. I was still only barely out of the T-Area. And, my feet felt insecure. I looked down, and saw that my shoe laces needed to be tightened. I stepped off the path, and bent over to tie them. “Hey, Diane, we’re going to do this!” I responded, “Way To Go, Nereida” as she walked past me.

I got up and trudged along. Just before the other side of Cedar Ave a woman turned back to say Hi to me. I had seen her at the beach the week before when I went swimming with Jennifer. “Oh, hey, how’s it going?” I asked. “Good” she said. “You were right, this is fun.” I said, “I saw your friend earlier, she looked like she was doing awesome” I said. “Yeah, she’s doing great!” the Lake Harriet swimmer said as she past me out of site around the bend.

Walking across Cedar bridge was horrid. It was hot, and uphill. It was so tempting just to cross over to the people that were walking down it and skip the little out and back. I didn’t though, of course. And, there was a water station up there. And, I saw Nereida again. She was going down as I was going up. More positive words of encouragement flown back and forth, wrapped in warmth and sincerity. The water station was not so good. The water was warm. Yuck. I drank it anyway, and drank another one at another table two feet down. As I was going down the bridge I saw Sue. She was right behind me. Wow! I told her to hurry up so she could catch up to me so we could walk together before she passed me up. She said she’d try. She answered as if she was joking. I wasn’t joking, I knew she could catch up to me.

The rest of the walk I was focused on my landmarks. The deer sculpture, the parking lot, and home. Deer, parking lot, home. Just get to the deer. Just get to the deer. Oh, there’s the deer. Parking lot and home. When I got to the beach across the lake from the T-side I just wanted to swim across. There was a volunteer not too far from there. I asked her if I could. She said yes. I kept walking. Women passed me. Lots of women passed me. There was one that I was keeping pace with. She walked faster than me but then I’d jog for a few seconds and catch up to her and then I’d walk and she’d get ahead of me. That didn’t’ last long. I didn’t want to jog, at all, and wasn’t going to force myself to do it.

The water at the second stop was ever worse than the first. But, I was close to the end. My thoughts jumbled together ‘I am going to do it. And tomorrow, is my birthday. I’m spending the day at the beach. I just have to get through this. Hey, I don’t feel like I have a blister on my foot this time. I think the powder worked.’ At the little walking bridge, a quarter mile from the finish, I told a volunteer I wasn’t going to make it. “Seriously, he said, you’re there. Cross the bridge, go around the corner, and you’ll see people, a lot of people”. I told him I was kidding, I had no doubt I would finish, but I was tired and ready to be done.

And then yes, there it was; the crowd. I couldn’t see the finish though. All of a sudden a kid ran out in front of me. She was heading toward her mother who was passing me. I thought I’d miss my family, then I saw Joanne grab Romie and jog ahead of me, on the sidelines. I was confused until I saw the chute, then I realized the little girl had joined her mother earlier than she was supposed to. I didn’t have to slow to wait for them, they were there. Jo maneuvered Romie next to me and we each took one of her hands. I looked up and saw Monica from the East Lake Clinic waving at me. Wow, I didn’t expect her, either. And next to her was Nereida's sister, “Go Diane!” Finally, it’s fun! Jogging together, Joanne, Romie and I crossed the finish line.

Post Race
I was handed a metal. I didn’t have the energy to put it on, so I put it on Romie. She was pleased. I quickly told her she couldn’t keep it, but she could wear it for me. I hugged Joanne, “I’m so proud of you!!!” she said. I hugged Eunice, and Jennifer. Jennifer was there, right there, and so was her family. Beautiful! And then Nereida crossed. Hoots and hollers and congratulations.

I had to get water, but there wasn’t any. I thought last year there was loads of water at the finish. Did I imagine that? I wanted food. We went to the food line. Jennifer didn’t eat. Didn’t she read the book? It said you’re supposed to eat right away. A-ha, they still had veggie wraps, and trail mix, and oranges and... With a plate full of food we headed back to the finish line, and there was Sue. I missed her crossing the line, but caught her seconds after. What an inspiration she is – retired, hip replacement, recent bike injury, and just smoking fast this year!

There was no place to eat, so we took things back to base camp. I ate, and gulped the last of my water, disappointed I didn’t have more. We sat, talked, ate, wondered what to do next. Romie wanted me to watch how good she could swim. The water seemed so inviting. I went into the water with her. Ah, it was so refreshing, the best thing since post race veggie wraps and trail mix. Soon after, everyone was ready to go. We broke camp. The teens were already gone. They couldn’t resist the MOA. It was calling them from just down the road, and they had left while I was in the water with Romie. Jennifer had finally eaten, and had decided that really, she just wanted to go home. We took the seemingly 15 mile walk back to the car. It looked so different now, in the brightness of the day compared to the mist filled pre-dawn when we had arrived. We loaded up, and headed home.

We unpacked. I took a shower, and in short order all of us were sleeping. Diane, Joanne, Romie (who doesn’t nap anymore) and Eunice all had a nice mid day nap.

When we got up we prepared to go to a hotel for the night. It was part of my birthday celebration from my wife. I was quiet over dinner. I was content, but tired, thinking of how sleepy a triathlon and a full belly can make me. By 8:00 I was well past simply tired. Joanne and Tania took the kids swimming, and I fell blissfully into the depths of sleep, despite only 3 hours having passed since waking from my 2 hour afternoon snoring rest.

Post-Race – The Next Day

Ah, my birthday. My triathlon reward. The best day of the summer; family, swimming, beach, sun, friends, and family, a summer Monday with no work. And, especially for all my complaining thoughts during the triathlon itself, I felt great, pretty close to normal physically and absolutely content in all other ways. I guess the training (and the powder on my feet) paid off.

I am now a seasoned triathlete.

Results
YWCA Women’s Triathlon - 2011
Individual Results

Diane Jorgensen
bib number: 582
age: 41
location: Minneapolis, MN
overall place: 950 out of 973

time: 2:35:46
swim: 15:37
trn1: 6:40
bike: 1:13:22
trn2: 2:49
run: 57:20

Romie and the Tornado

I’ve had a lot of people ask how Romie did through all of this. Honestly, she did great! She was terrified during the tornado itself but accepted our reassurance. While Romie and I were still in the basement, and after Joanne went upstairs, I tried to redirect her thoughts by reminding her she had a flashlight in her hand. She turned it on and started waving it, saying “we can pretend we’re at a party.”

Once we emerged from the basement, she was confused by the scene outside. However, she was only truly upset by the swing set being broken and word from neighbors that someone was dead on the street at the north end of our block. She didn’t even hear or recognize the sound of gunshots, thus, that did not frighten her. Overall, she stayed with me and did really well. Within an hour or two after the tornado, back in the house, she was playing as normal. She was doing her doll’s hair. It was a little flat doll, maybe 4 or 5 inches tall. She was asking me if I thought the doll’s hair and clothes looked good enough, because the doll was getting ready to be in a show.

I do have some good stories about Romie and the tornado.

(1) Tornado Sunday – afternoon / evening

In my limited conversation with Lori we had come up with a plan for Lori to get as close as she could to us and take Romie for the night. Lori asked me to pack a bag. Romie and I packed it together, deciding what she should wear to bed and the next day.

We couldn’t really talk to Lori due to cell phone service being all but down, but in the extremely brief conversations the limited phone reception would allow, she knew to come on the south side of the block because our block was impassable and there was more damage north of us. After a few more attempts at receiving incoming calls, we knew she was getting somewhat close to us. Joanne and Romie walked down to the corner wait for her. With a steady stream of slow moving vehicles on that road, and someone from the neighborhood directing traffic as best she could, there was no way for Dan to pull over to get Romie. Joanne got Romie in the car as quick as possible to limit holding up traffic unnecessarily, leaving no time for discussion.

As Lori’s cell phone was missing, a few hours later I had a text conversation with my 15 y/o niece, Kira.

Diane: How’s Romie doing?
Kira: I don’t know, I’m not with her.
Diane: Where are you?
Kira: My dad and I our on our way to your house.
Diane: Why?
Kira: You didn’t pack clothes for Romie for tomorrow.
Diane: Yes I did
Kira: My mama said you didn’t.
Diane: Whatever, come on over, but you’re wasting a trip.

The next day when I met with Lori in person she told me that she was sorry for the mix up. She hadn’t looked in the bag, but Romie told her there were no clothes there.

Lori: So she must not have seen what you packed and didn’t know that you had clothes in the backpack for her.
Diane: She knew. We packed together.
Lori: Maybe she forgot you packed clothes.
Diane: No, we were very deliberate about it. She couldn’t have forgotten there were clothes.
Lori: That’s interesting. Oh… I bet she told me that because she thought I would buy her a new outfit.

So, yeah, we learned that Romie is officially a manipulator. And, her timing was bad. It took Dan and Kira close to an hour to get back to us, for nothing! There is no way Romie could have understood the consequences of her little trick to try to get a new outfit from her aunty, but still, it was not a nice thing to do.

(2) Monday, the day after the tornado

When I picked up Romie she was very happy to see me. She was especially excited to show me her cheek, “Look mama!” I looked, and said, “It looks like your face has been hit by a tornado.”

Lori had taken Romie to the Mall of America. There are face painters there, and when Lori explained that Romie’s home had been damaged by the tornado and didn’t have electricity, they painted that on her little cheek for free.

(3) Monday, the day after the tornado

Joanne and I both stayed home from work on Monday. We didn’t really have a choice with no electricity, damage to our home, and difficulty getting in and out of North Minneapolis. While we were home Mark had come over (friend/contractor) to do an assessment, take pictures, and to tarp the roof. He saw some people waking the street to try to get construction and repair work, and decided to put a sign up in our yard to let people know that we didn’t need extra services.

When I picked up Romie from Lori at Kira’s high school (in North Minneapolis), Lori had told me Romie had been doing really well but had been getting upset watching news coverage with video of destruction to our neighborhood. So, Lori had turned the TV off.

There was no way I could really avoid going through the damaged areas to get home. I did take the adjacent street as opposed to our street, as it was less damaged. Never-the-less, I was driving through a few blocks with downed trees, a lot of debris, and damaged homes. Romie was very quiet, looking out the window. I asked if she was OK, and she said yes. She didn’t say anything else until we got a few houses from home. Then she became really excited, almost upset. “What is that in our yard!? Who put that there!?” She was looking at the sign Mark had put up. It was new since she had left. Apparently, she wasn’t concerned with the neighborhood, only with her house. She calmed down quickly when I explained that Greg’s brother had put it there and he was going to help us fix the outside of the house.

(4) A few days after the tornado

At Romie’s school, they’ve been talking a lot about what to do if someone is being mean to you or trying to get you to do something you know you shouldn’t do. They are teaching the kids to tell the teacher and/or to “do a power walk and walk away.”

A few days after the tornado Romie and I were hanging together and had this conversation.
Romie: Mama, everyone has power right?
Diane: (with enthusiasm) Yes, we all have power! Each of us has our own power.
Romie: (frowning) Everyone except us…

Yes, it wasn’t until then that exhausted Diane realized that Romie was talking about electricity, not personal power. So, I unintentionally reinforced her mistaken and sad belief that the entire world had electricity except us. Oops.

(5) Later that same day.

Later that same day we had another unsuccessful conversation about electricity.

Romie: Can I watch a Dora?
Diane: No, honey, we don’t have any electricity.
Romie: What does electricity do?
Diane: It makes things turn on.
Romie: But the water turns on.
Diane: Yes, that’s different. It makes lights and things turn on.
Romie: Our flashlights turn on.
Diane: Yes, those use batteries. Electricity is for things that have a switch on the wall or that have to be plugged in.
Romie: (looking out the back door to the deck pointing at the relatively quiet but still noisy generator). But that’s plugged in, and that’s on.
Diane: (frustrated) Yes it is. I think you should talk to your mom (Joanne) about electricity.

Tornado - one week later

It’s one week since the tornado hit. I seemed to do pretty much OK until yesterday, Saturday. I felt worn down from emotional fatigue. It’s just impossible to get back to normal, because large portions of my neighborhood are destroyed. Every time I walk out the back door or go anywhere I see gauging reminders of the storm. My backyard is a mess, though Joanne has reestablished neatness and tranquility on the deck itself. I drive through the area and see debris, buildings gone, homes torn apart. You know the hard hit areas because you can look all the way down the block or the ally; there are no trees or garages to block the view. On the nearest main intersection (3 blocks north of me) there sits a Salvation Army disaster trailer. It’s a mobile food and water unit.

I tell people how close it came, but you don’t get it until you see it. Go north on my street one half block and homes are demolished. ONE HALF BLOCK AWAY HOMES ARE DEMOLISHED. You can read that and I can show you pictures of homes nearby that were demolished as well as damage on my property. I can tell you that reading the Star and Tribune on-line the 3600 block and 3700 block of Emerson, the two blocks north of us, are frequently mentioned and there are pictures of incredible damage on my street. Even with that, you still won’t get it until you are in my neighborhood, seeing it with your own eyes.

Yesterday morning the insurance assessor was here for 3 hours. He was very nice and very thorough. He had a nice southern accent and said he was from Texas. It went well, though we were both stressed about his visit prior to his arrival. While he was walking around with Jo, Romie and I spent some time out front. A young woman in a yellow volunteer t-shirt came up to Romie, talked to her about the tornado, and gave her a toy. It was a very nice gesture. She was a volunteer from a church organization so we got a few “God Bless You” statements from her too. I also spent some time yesterday morning on-line. It really bothered me to know that people who were not impacted by this are just living their lives as usual. Facebook friends are posting the same happy things as if nothing has happened. Of course, for them it hasn’t. I’m not sure why that would bother me so much, especially as I absolutely know how much work the City of Minneapolis has done and how there are so many people wanting to volunteer that they are turning most away. It’s not that I want people to still be calling me and texting me with “what can I do to help you” but it seems like they have forgotten that this happened at all. I can’t forget; I see it every time I walk out my door.

After the assessor left Joanne capitulated on my request for lunch at Chipotle. Along with Meesh, we made the trek to Crystal. Just before we left I felt an internal storm brewing, tired and cranky at a maximum level. When we got back home Joanne went outside to nap and Romie and I went upstairs to nap. I was exhausted, and every time I’d start to fall asleep Romie would talk to me, tickle my face with a doll’s hair, sit up to play with the cat… I got increasingly annoyed. It ended with me yelling at her (more than once) and her crying. I made a plea on Face Book for someone to take Romie for a little while. I was too agitated to fall asleep by then, but didn’t see myself naturally calming down with her around clambering for my attention. A friend (one of her best friend’s mothers) responded, and Romie went there for dinner, a movie, and some play time. Jo and I watched a movie on Pay Per View. It was action Sci-Fi with enough excitement to keep my interest but enough Sci-Fi for me to feel it was completely removed from my life. I picked up Romie, and when we arrived home friends were here with fresh baked blueberry muffins. I’m not sure exactly what Annie put in those muffins, but they are incredible! We visited for a while on the back deck. Romie fell asleep on me, and the day ended not only on a better note than it started, but an entire different song.

For the rest of the holiday weekend I am trying to find a balance between getting things done and being gentle with myself. We are also trying to plan some quality family time, and some quality couple time. However, we don’t have specific plans yet, and the weekend is half over. I cognitively realize that my work now is not to wait for things to get back to normal, but to accept that there will be a new normal. My home will be sufficiently repaired. My neighborhood will be rebuilt, though the hundreds of giant, old, trees will not regrow to their glory in my lifetime. I don’t know how we will react the next time tornado sirens wail. I do know that for me, it will not be a warning to be heeded even though nothing ever serious happens. And, likely Joanne will be more willing to come to the basement right away. I hope we can convey to Romie that she’s safe, and the basement is a precaution only. I never want to go through a disaster like this again. Even though you can’t truly relate to what it’s like for me, just as I can’t relate to those who are displaced or were injured from this, believe me, I don’t want you to ever go through this either.

Emerson Avenue Tornado 5/22 Part Two

This was an email I sent on Tuesday 5/24 to a friend, Annie, who lives on the Northside.

The first voice message I received today was your voice mail. Thank you!!! It was really helpful that so many people were concerned about us. We have been so blessed! (and I don't use that word lightly).

This experience has been absolutely eye-opening. It was so isolating to not have: electricity; media access via internet, radio, or television; limited communication due to not being able to make or receive phone calls. I could not get email, check voice messages at work, get on face book, or get any real news. I was limited to text messages. And, that was hard. Most of them failed to go through and I would have to diligently resend them and check until it worked. It wasn't until yesterday late in the afternoon that I could have an actual phone conversation. By that time it was too late to check or change my work voice mail. It was good to get into work to be able to get at my emails and have electricity. I have my cell phone charging right now - which means it's next to me and I'm in a regular chair - not trying to do it in the van through an adapter that runs into the cig lighter.

Thank God there was no damage to our vehicles. It was hard enough to get in and out of the neighborhood as it was. I can't imagine if our cars were damaged as many of them were around us. It took several hours for our block to be cleared (by neighbors on my block) for some vehicle traffic. And shortly after that, a bus got stuck on 36th and Emerson completely blocking that side of our block from vehicle traffic for another several hours. And you know how difficult it still is to get in and out of the Northside! It's crazy. Who would have ever thought that we'd be hit by a tornado - and that it would do such wide spread damage in pockets all across the Northside? It's still unbelievable.

Getting back to work is good - it's good to see normalcy on this side of the world - but it all still seems so surreal. Here are our blessings - we were not injured in the least. Yes we had perhaps significant damage to the house - but it is still completely functioning and livable. My sister took Romie from 5PM on Sunday until yesterday evening, even in the hassle trying to get from NE to North after the storm. It was so much easier to cope with things knowing she was safe, happy, and well cared for. Jo's son brought us some LED lights on Sunday, those and our flashlights, made things manageable after dark. We still had full plumping including drinkable tap water, flushable toilets, and hot showers. We could use the stove (gas) as long as Jo lit it first. On Monday Jo's boss brought us a generator to keep our refrigerator and our chest freezer functioning. Our vehicles have minor scratches. We have financial means to take care of ourselves - for example, to have breakfast at Emily's yesterday before tackling our day. We have good insurance! An old friend is a contractor in Northfield. With one very brief call with very bad reception and he was on his way to us. He arrived Monday around 1:00 and started working on repairs right away. He's professional, competent, experienced, positive, and reassuring. I trust him like a brother and had no concerns what-so-ever giving him a house key. After assessing the damage he said "my job is to take care of things here so you two can get back to work." Since he's based in Northfield - he had no other clients in our area and we are at the top of his que and his priority list.

And, most of all, we have a very loving, caring, supportive, and stable support network that made it clear they were readily available to us with anything we may need.

Compared to many of our neighbors on the Northside - we are so fortunate!!!

Emerson Ave Tornado 52211 Part One

We were home when the tornado hit. I was on the landing on the basement cleaning the litter box. Romie was "helping me". I knew there was a tornado watch all day but when I had gone down there a few minutes earlier everything seemed normal outside. I had just finished my job - literally, and the siren went off. I threw the dirty litter bag on top of the box and said "Romie, we have to go downstairs". I got up from my stool and headed down. Joanne yelled from upstairs "that's the siren." I said, "I know, we're going down now - meet you there." The basement carpet was wet from all the rain (I'm not sure why, but the heavy rain all that day caused some water to get down there). Romie just had ballet slippers on. I picked her up and set her across the main room of the basement onto a couch. The power went out. I yelled to Joanne "Get Romie's shoes and a flashlight." She yelled back "OK" and I heard her stomping around up there, and calling the dog. I'm not sure what happened next but something - a noise or a sense or something - and I decided where we were in the basement wasn't safe. Or maybe Jo had come down with the shoes and ran back up for something - I can't remember. But something was wrong and I decided I needed to get Romie to the inner room of the basement. We were on our way there, as Jo came down the steps. In front of us, the basement window blew. It pushed our 2 rows of 4 block glass bricks out and broke the glass behind it. The blocks flew into the air and dropped several feet from the window. The air pressure change caused the window on the other side of the room (right above where we were on the couch) to push out. Jo was one step away from being on the basement floor - right in front of that window that that blew. If she had been seconds quicker those glass blocks and the broken glass behind it would have hit her. Rain and wind were rushing through the window in a horizontal sheet - bringing small pieces of debris with it (and the top of a solar light from our front garden). Romie started SCREAMING in fear and shock. I was yelling at Jo to "get down here, get down here." What I didn't know, was that she felt the tornado and her ears had popped from the pressure change. She had the sense that had she been in front of that window that the tornado would have tried to suck her through it. (It's just a little foot high, two foot long basement window). She waited seconds until that was clear, while yelling at me "get her in there - get her in there" pointing to the small room in the basement where I was headed with Romie initially. I moved in there and sat Romie on the bed, Romie crying, and Jo followed us in. I grabbed a blanket and covered Romie's lap as comfort and we tried to talk calmly to her and reassure her that she was safe.

The rain was coming down there was this constant roar and then it was quiet. Jo disappeared, saying "tornadoes don't come back." I said I knew, but I wanted it to be clear first, and I didn't know if there could be another one in the cell. She disappeared and came back a few times - she couldn't sit still. She'd come back dripping wet. I heard her up stairs yelling "Oh My God. Oh My God." I thought perhaps the upstairs was gone. I didn't want leave until it was for sure safe, because of Romie. She came down and told me that the backyard was gone, we were definitely hit by a tornado and there was devastation. Sometime in there the sirens started, lots of emergency vehicles emerging on the area. I'll never forget that sound.

We went up and looked out the backyard. Everything was all over, like the backyard had been tipped up side down and shaken before being set right. Romie started crying again "my swing set - my swing set." We went out front. There were trees all over the street. The contents of porch were strewn about, much of having blasted out the porch door onto our stoop. We had to step over all that to get to the street. Everyone else seemed to be there too and we stood in the middle of the street with our neighbors, in shock. Then asking each other if everyone was OK and getting to asking if anyone had checked on the people in that house or that house. We'd be in and out. Rain would drive me back in with Romie. And three separate times while we were out there were gunshots - they sounded like they were a block north of us or so. We'd all scatter and a few minutes later, like magnets, everyone would come out again. The fist time that had happened Joanne had left to look for some of our backyard furniture. She couldn't get her phone to work to take photos - so had taken my phone. She left in the direction of the gunshots. I was terrified - she was gone, I didn't know if she was shot - and I had no phone. I went in the house and yelled at the dog just as Jo came in the back, fine, "Diane, I was no where near that."

Maybe a half hour later the sun was out. We were all outside. And a single female firefighter came walking up the middle of the street, climbing over tree trunks that were across the road. A minute or two later another one. They did not look at us or talk to us and I have no idea where they were going or what they were doing. Then a group of six followed. They walked past, and were gone.

A short time after that the parade started. People walking up and down the street - in a daze, checking things out, checking on each other, talking. We were trying to get information from people. I asked a young couple if there were injuries. They said "there's a dead guy on the corner up there and yeah - a lot of injuries on that next block. I was alone with Romie. She looked at me and said "is that a real dead guy?" I said, no honey, she didn't mean a real one, let's go in the house. Later when we came out, mixed with the neighbors walking up and own were opportunists - people handing out cards, I can fix your house, I take care of damage, I work with insurances, are you the home owner - here's my card. Maybe 6 of them total came up to me, some in uniforms some not. Then the gawkers, street lined with cars, people taking pictures. At one point a white family in a mini van parked in front of us, got the kids out with their strollers and sippy cups while a 4 y/o climbed a down tree (very dangerous) in the neighbors yard. The mom was unphased. My sense was that they were at a festival - she had come to see the damage with her family as entertainment. At one point a black family walked up the street. Two adults, the man carrying a newborn, a 6 y/o walking with them. I asked if they were OK. He said "yes, we're checking on my family up a few blocks, can't get through. Then he looked me right in the eye and said "what about you - are you all OK?"

You have to understand, thee timing of these events may be way off. From the moment we came out of the house to dark I'm not sure of what happened when. It was all so surreal and confusing. At one point a city bus was apparently trying to get though at the corner, had gone up on the curb to pass debris, and got stuck. Somehow it ended up across the entire block - blocking traffic for hours. It was weird to look up the street, covered with tress, and see a bus across the road. And the first house on our side on the next block - no roof - the top south portion of the building gone. Our block was cleared within a few hours, before the bus blocked it again, by neighbors with chain saws. It wasn't cleared cleared, but there was a path through it.

Hours later, after my sister had braved the traffic to come get Romie, I was sitting in the van, people still streaming by in slow motion, and a biker rode in front of me. It looked like a friend from Toastmasters. I yelled "Sarah". It was her, and she stopped. She assured me she was safe and came in with me to look at the damage in the backyard. She had been in NE when the tornado hit and had been trying to get back to her house on the Northside but couldn't get through. She left her car, and walked home on foot - a few miles - and had gone back there with her bike in the hopes of getting her car home. She realized though that it wasn't going to happen, and she'd have to bike back there in the morning for it.

Oh, and my cat. While we were in the basement we heard a meow. Jo had brought the dog down, but didn't bother to attempt with the cat. She said she thought Isis was down there. I wasn't sure - we had two open basement windows and there are stray cats in the neighborhood - one could have come in for shelter. After it was over - I couldn't find her. I called and I looked and no Isis. I was terrified she had gone out one of those basement windows and I didn't know what would happen to her out there with all that devastation or if she'd be able to find her way back in the mess. I thought she was gone. A half an hour later I searched the house again. She was laying on the bed in the basement, in the exact spot I had sat Romie down. She was curled up, purred when she saw me. I was so relieved I can't even tell you.

At one point I was in the van trying to communicate with various people by text message cause the phone wasn't working for calls in or out, and a neighbor two doors down came up to me, asked me where the 4th precinct was located. He had called the red cross for shelter and was told to go to the 4th precinct. I knew it was on Plymouth, somewhere near NorthPoint, but I doubted myself and wasn't sure exactly where it was. I texted two friends that have partners who are police officers for the City, and one wrote back with an address. I gave it to him, saying "it's a 2-3 mile walk." He had two teenagers and two preschoolers. I offered him a stroller, and he accepted that offer a half hour later and walked away, female partner and 4 kids at his side, joining the parade of people walking the debris filled streets.


The other sound that started early and was almost constant for two days was helicopters circling. They were very loud. That first night they went until 11:00 or 11:20 and started back up at 6:00. A neighbor commented that they had already gotten plenty of pictures of our destruction, why did they have to keep circling. It was really loud starting at 9:30-10:00, and I assumed they were getting ready for "live" shots on the 10:00 news.

By late Sunday Chad had made it through. He brought ice to keep our refrigerator cold, and several LED lights and batteries (though we had batteries). He told us we were on a curfew as of 9:00 and people would not be allowed in North Mpls without ID showing we lived there. At 9:00 the sirens went off. I thought maybe there was another tornado warning, but it was short lived, and we guessed it was to mark the start of curfew. I thought it odd to put us on a curfew when we didn't even know about it. Again, all across the metro except for in North there was power, so people knew what was going on for us, but we didn't know. Chad also told us there was talk on twitter of a some residents planning to riot, and of the city police trying to get riot gear and a request for national guard to come in and keep the peace in North Minneapolis. I don't know how much of that was true, but probably most of it was fear-based rumor. Other than the gunshots much earlier in the day, all was peaceful and quiet, again, with the exception of chainsaws. Jo and I had easily made the decision hours earlier to stay put, to guard our property. Romie was gone and safe, we had water, food, and plumbing, and saw no good reason to leave.