Why Tri? Why Not?

Congratulations, friends, colleagues and family. Together you have raised more than $3,000 to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

All because I promised I would do something crazy: train for and compete in a triathlon. (A triathlon that, unbeknownst to me when I signed up, is famous for its difficulty.)

I lived to tell the tale, and thanks to you, your support will help those with blood cancer live and thrive longer.

While financial contributions are welcomed throughout the year, the LLS would appreciate having those of my supporters turned in on or before May 16. Yes, this coming Thursday.

If you haven't yet participated, here is your chance!

Do you have what it takes?

Are you willing to give a little bit to benefit others?

Do you have the right stuff?

Sure you do. And I know you can do it.

Just click on the link at the left. Or send a check to the address shown.

You can make a big difference simply by giving a contribution to the LLS. I'm not asking on my behalf, but on the behalf of patients and families everywhere. Let's count on you. Let's see your name on the final tally, which is the true finish line we are about to cross ... together.

A little reward for your pledging ... a few words (below) about what it was like to overcome my fear of open water swimming. The 1-mile swim mentioned in this poem took place Saturday, March 15, at eight in the morning. If I can find pleasure in something scary, uncomfortable and difficult, anyone can!

Winter is Over at Lake San Antonio

Swimming, slowly, leisurely.
My own pace, my own thoughts.
Barn swallows above me,
a sandhill crane fifteen feet away
on the shore.
Quiet birds, uncomplicated lake.
I could get out and walk
faster than I am gliding through
the water, make more progress
on the land. Still.
Floating, resting on my back.
My arms outstretched, my face warmed.
Morning sun above me,
unseen mysteries below.
I suppose that if I wanted to, I could turn my head
and look down into the depths and find out. If.
But.
Nothing any better than this
and now.

Cathy Sapunor • March 15, 2008 • Lake San Antonio, California