at least somebody in the family's getting a podium finish this summer

Ella competed in the South Shore Tri-Masters Triathlon this past weekend. It's a fun one. Totally relaxed, with an emphasis on introducing urban kids to the sport, so the high strung "stage parents" aren't as prevalent.

This was Ella's fifth triathlon. One of my favorite parts of watching them is that, after the first couple events, you're completely out of the picture. Soccer, you're there, and you try not to be a lunatic on the sideline (some don't bother trying), but at halftime you sneak over and give her some tips. Swimming...less so, but you're there, and you can still follow up after the fact. With a triathlon, you really have to let go, and it can be tough. It doesn't escape me that this is a metaphor big enough to beat you over the head with: I've done my job, I have to let go, I can't hold her hand or talk her through it, and I can't keep the haters from trying to bring her down.

I've seen little shits (always boys) looking back over their shoulders, trying to block anyone from passing them, threatening to cause a pileup of bikes. I suspect she enjoys being out of sight for the same reasons, an escape from the threat of instruction. I'm not the most experienced triathlete, but what can you do? You look at the map, you talk through the whole thing, thinking about it, visualizing it, and you help her get her crap to the transition area. Then you go to the beach and dance.

There's always music, an emcee, a bunch of nervous kids, and depending on the venue, a healthy cadre of ubercoach parents. Somewhere along the way, I told her it's a rule you have to dance before the start. It works, though she usually stomps on my feet or flings sand at me instead.

They're off and she's in the front row of 30 girls. She's out of the water 9th, slips through to nip a spot in the run to T1, then about 6th to begin the bike. Only a handful of girls have proper road bikes, and these are her only real competition: 905 is out first on the bike by a long way. 931, her teammate, is a spot or two back, but she's crying and looking around for somebody. She doesn't find them but it doesn't stop her from motoring away on the bike. Another road biker, a couple of bmx-ers (one of them is HUGE, she looks 12!) then Ella. I call out "three road bikes ahead of you!" and my coaching job is done.

She finishes up the bike in almost the same place. She's a long way back from third, so I figure she's out of the medals. The run is only a 1/4 mile, and I didn't think she could make up the ground. Even worse, the amazon girl on the bmx bike should be long gone, but she's right behind Ella! Ella's not exactly lightning in any one discipline, and this girl could pass her in three strides. I see them start the run, and it looks like my worries are unfounded. Ella starts to turn over rapid little rabbit steps, and bmx girl takes giant slow bounds, getting slower already. Off they go.

We wait in the final 50 meters and 905 comes in way ahead of any other girls. 931 has put her tears behind her, and is still in second. Is it possible that Ella ran her way into a medal? She comes in, still kicking hard, and just ahead of her is a boy half a head taller than her. He's looking back and pinning her into the boards; he won't let her pass. She slips through, he counters, they're bumping elbows 10 meters from the finish. She surges through again, and...he can't hang on! He fades and she pushes on through the line. I may not be able to see the whole thing, but I love the parts that I do get to see.

We weren't sure how she did, but sure enough, they called her up for a medal: female 7-10 years old overall (and she's only 9.) She was beside herself, but at the same time, on the way home: "I'm gonna win it next year."

Stay tuned. I promise we'll have a camera by then.