Against the Wind: An Ironwoman's Race for Her Family's Survival

by Lee DiPietro

Overview

To one woman, running was more than a passion—it was a lesson in perseverance.

Lee DiPietro discovered the exhilaration of endurance athletics when she ran her first half marathon in her late twenties. From that day forward, she took on every marathon that she could, and despite having to juggle her running with her responsibilities as mother and wife, she quickly established herself as one of the best runners in the United States.

Over the next thirty years Lee won race after race, running in everything from local competitions to the three most challenging endurance races: the Boston Marathon, the New York City Marathon, and the Ironman triathlon. What she did not know, as she climbed the ranks of the running world, was the struggle her family would face and the role her running would play in helping her persevere in the face of great adversity.

When Lee’s husband was diagnosed with cancer and her son suffered a devastating accident, she found herself falling back on the lessons she had learned as a marathoner to help her endure the sudden family trials. In Against the Wind, DiPietro takes us through her harrowing yearlong fight for the lives of her husband and son. Despite the great difficulties she faced, throughout it all remained her love for running. Against the Wind is a story that will resonate with readers whose lives have been affected by cancer as well as those who are dedicated to endurance sports. It proves that running is a tool to save lives—far from just a sport and test of one's mettle.

Skyhorse Publishing, as well as our Sports Publishing imprint, is proud to publish a broad range of books for readers interested in sports—books about baseball, pro football, college football, pro and college basketball, hockey, or soccer, we have a book about your sport or your team.

In addition to books on popular team sports, we also publish books for a wide variety of athletes and sports enthusiasts, including books on running, cycling, horseback riding, swimming, tennis, martial arts, golf, camping, hiking, aviation, boating, and so much more. While not every title we publish becomes a New York Times bestseller or a national bestseller, we are committed to publishing books on subjects that are sometimes overlooked by other publishers and to authors whose work might not otherwise find a home.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781634504706
Publisher:	Skyhorse
Publication date:	09/15/2015
Sold by:	SIMON & SCHUSTER
Format:	eBook
Pages:	288
File size:	4 MB

About the Author

Lee DiPietro is an endurance athlete, motivational speaker, and educator. Over the course of her thirty-year career, DiPietro has won 202 races and established herself as one of the preeminent endurance athletes of her day. DiPietro and her husband, Lee, split their time between Delray Beach, Florida, and Newport, Rhode Island.

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Running: The Beginning

There was a time in my life, in my mid-thirties to mid-forties, that I was somewhat famous. Not as a celebrity but as a world-class long-distance runner and professional triathlete. I was a local hero not only to runners but to those who saw me run everywhere and every day, in rain, snow, sleet, or heat waves. I was always there, like the mailman. You could count on that. And nationally, I made a name for myself amongst the endurance athletes — runners, triathletes, and duathletes — and their followers, some that I raced against and some that knew of my reputation. I was not only a mom of two young sons and a wife, I had another identity, one that gave me confidence and fed my appetite to be strong and stand out. I became like Clark Kent and Superman; put on my running gear and I transformed from ordinary mom and wife to Superwoman. I was ready to tackle anything that challenged me or my family.

At the peak of my career at age thirty-nine, I placed sixth in the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii, ranking me among the top female Ironman triathletes in the world. And in my forties I was ranked among the top masters long-distance runners in the country. My passion for endurance sports has led me on a path I never would have imagined, a path that was my destiny for a reason. But this was a life that had not been planned since childhood, it was one I fell into from a simple suggestion.

*
I was twenty-six, had never run more than four miles at a time, despite years or organized sports, and had no idea how to run the 26.2 miles of a marathon. Her suggestion surprised me, but I was tempted. After all, I had been running a few miles several times a week when I could find the time, trying to keep myself in shape.

"Come on," she said, "Brewster is running too, and it would be fun!"

Fun? I thought. Could be, but the idea was also daunting. Kitty was only asking me to join her at the sixteen-mile mark to help her finish. Could I really run ten miles, in Boston, on that famous, most prestigious marathon course?

Kitty lived in Boston and had been running in the marathon for several years. I'd been a big Boston Marathon fan during my college days attending Boston University, but only as a spectator. Every Patriot's Day in April, I had joined the thousands of waving, screaming onlookers who cheered the runners along their route from Hopkinton into downtown Boston. I'd often watched with envy, blending in with the mass of people on the sidelines, and could only imagine what it would feel like to run a marathon with so many people cheering you on.

Kitty was going to run that year as she always did, as a bandit. There is a strict qualifying time for runners to compete in Boston, but back then, in 1985, unregistered participants were allowed to run. These runners didn't need to qualify to run, were not awarded finisher's medals, couldn't win prizes, and had to start way at the back of the fifteen-thousand-plus registered runners. But these bandits would run the same streets, test themselves in the same way, and feel the same exhilaration as the real Boston Marathoners. This was my chance to see what it felt like from the other side, as a runner.

"I'm game!" I told Kitty enthusiastically.

There was, of course, work to be done in the four months I had to train. I had no idea how to prepare to run ten miles, though I had always been athletic and competitive. Even as a child I had been very successful in sports, playing tennis and being the big winner on the summer swim team. I realize now that having been the middle child of five girls, I had to find a way to stand out and get noticed, especially by my parents. And I was a much better athlete than student. I felt so proud to come home and tell my parents I had won something and to have them give me the praise I longed for. This need only grew after my parents' divorce. It was then, in middle school and high school, that I joined the field hockey, basketball, and lacrosse teams.

My need to compete continued into college where I played on the lacrosse team at Boston University. I suppose my first exposure to running started then as I'd scramble at the beginning of January, after a long fall of inactivity, to get in shape for the spring lacrosse season with short one-to two-mile runs around the reservoir. In the beginning, those runs were awful. I felt fifteen pounds overweight, even though I wasn't, and my lungs burned with each desperate gasp for air, while my feet hit heavily on the ground. The only way to get in shape meant withstanding the pain and committing myself to a grueling routine. After a few weeks of sore muscles and leaden feet, I found myself looking forward to my vigorous daily runs. My body began to respond to my steps with a feeling of exuberance as I seemingly sprang off the ground with each foot strike. But now, to train for a marathon, I would have to go through that pain again. I reminded myself of that.

*
Right after college, Lee and I married and moved to the village of Sea Cliff on the north shore of Long Island. I had only done a little running since graduating from college. In the first two years of our marriage and before the birth of our children, my husband and I had become avid tennis players, making time on weekends to get some exercise while socializing with friends. But we couldn't carve out enough time during the week to play as much tennis as I wanted, and I found that taking off for a mile or two whenever I could eased the tension from the long commute to my job at a decorator's fabric house in Manhattan.

None of that, however, prepared me for my first few runs to get in shape for the ten miles I would run in the Boston Marathon. Initially, the runs were torture, and I dreaded them — my legs felt like lead, I couldn't catch my breath, and the soreness in my legs seemed to persist for days. And then came the increases in mileage; more torture! Those were struggles — both enduring the pain and completing the mileage. At the end of the day, I usually had little energy left, but I forced myself to continue with my plan.

Finding the time to get in shape became another challenge. Not only was I a new mother taking care of our eighteen-month-old son, Tim, but I also worked part-time. And Lee, though very supportive, had to spend long hours building his insurance business. So, on weekdays, I had to fit in runs when I could. On occasion, Lee came home early enough for me to sneak in a run and for him to get time alone with his son. Lucky for both of us, Tim was a very good baby, and my mother, who lived nearby, also took turns babysitting to support my newfound habit.

Still, despite having been a lacrosse player in college and knowing that the only way to get in shape was by committing to a grueling routine, I knew nothing about training for a long-distance run. Initially, I trained by taking Kitty's suggestion of simply logging three miles each day. That was at the beginning. Then, over the course of the next three months, she encouraged me to increase the distance every couple of weeks until my longest run of eight miles. You can't increase too quickly because your body needs time to adapt to the mileage by getting stronger and fitter.

But after a few weeks, dressed in my own running gear and hair tugged back in a ponytail, I began to feel reenergized (after the endorphins kicked in), and by the end of each run I noticed I felt stronger and still had energy left to cope with my mom and wife duties. Not long after that, my body began to change — I lost the baby fat I'd gained with my first pregnancy, saw new muscles, and learned to love the freedom I felt when running. It became the time, carved out of each day, when I could indulge in whatever thoughts I wanted, and did not have to respond to anyone else's needs, including my baby's demands, which could be constant. In fact, running quickly became an addiction. I often found myself pacing as the hour approached when Lee would return from work, watching out the window with Tim in my arms. When Lee finally did arrive, I'd dash out the door to get my fix. A half hour later, I'd return home tired but also refreshed and with a sense of pride. I definitely felt stronger, and the confidence I'd had as a young athlete was returning.

*
Several weeks before the marathon, Kitty came down to Long Island to join me at my mother and stepfather's house for a training run. She had planned an eight-mile loop to test my readiness, and I was pumped and full of energy as we started to stretch our quads and hamstrings in the driveway. Mom stood with us, watching over Tim as he gleefully mimicked our stretching technique.

Kitty and I took off, and I kept pace as she easily chatted about the course we would run and the rush we'd get from the energetic crowds. I couldn't wait, and I discovered that having someone to talk to while running made the time go by so much faster. Before I knew it, we'd almost arrived home. I still felt strong and knew I was now ready to run Boston.

As we ran up the last hill and rounded the corner to our driveway, we spotted Mom and Tim in the field next to her house, waiting for us. Tim spotted us too and screeched with excitement, which acted like a shot of adrenalin. With a spurt of energy, I sped through the field toward my son. Then, with a last surge of effort, I collapsed on the ground with him and we rolled onto our backs as he squealed with joy. In years to come and at the countless races I ran, I would hear those shouts of encouragement many times from my family, and they always gave me an instant charge. They lifted me up and energized me.

When race day arrived, I awoke early and impatient. Too nervous to eat or sit, I wandered around the house waiting to leave. Kitty had left much earlier to make the thirtyminute drive to the start in Hopkinton. Brewster, our brother, arrived at Kitty's house mid-morning to wait with me and strategize our run. Mom, our biggest fan and supporter, had decided to come up and watch us all. Unfortunately, Lee had to stay home with Tim, who was a little too young to make the trip.

Mom drove Brewster and me to the sixteen-mile mark, where we then waited and cheered others on, hoping that Kitty's predicted time to reach this spot would be accurate. Hundreds and thousands of runners passed, young and old, fit and not. Some appeared energetic, springing from step to step, while others were practically doubled over, staring at the ground in front of them as if in a trance. Some waved at the crowd, encouraging their cheers, and others focused on the road ahead.

Finally, we spotted Kitty, and my heart began to race. It was time to go. Brewster and I jumped in alongside her, as if we were her bodyguards. I felt the urge to sprint ahead, but, as if restraining a horse with reins, I pulled myself back. We were there to run Kitty to the finish, not leave her behind. She had, after all, already run sixteen miles.

As we approached the famed three-mile climb at Heartbreak Hill, at mile seventeen, I could hear the rambunctious spectators encouraging the runners up the start of that long ascent. The crowds were incredible; I had never experienced anything like it. Yes, there had been spectators at my lacrosse games in college, but the fans here exuded as much energy on the sidelines as the marathoners did on the roads. And they were so close to the runners, creating a tunnel along the street for us to run through. Although I was amongst hundreds of other runners, I felt as though the people lining the route were all cheering for only me!

When we ran through Kenmore Square, with only about a mile to go, the three of us began to speed up, weaving through the masses of runners, registered as well as bandits. The cheers from the crowds elevated our spirits as well as our pace. We rounded the last corner onto Boylston Street and saw the finish line several long blocks away, but the excitement of finishing seemed to quicken our steps. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and with our ears buzzing, the three of us clasped hands and raised them over our heads as we crossed the finish line together. I was on cloud nine!

Kitty, whose seemingly boundless energy after running 26.2 miles, had truly impressed me, and she looked as if she could still run some more. Her satisfied and proud smile stretched across her face as wide as mine. I knew immediately that I would do this again. If all these people could run a marathon, then so could I. But next time I would run the full 26.2 miles.

In the hours after the marathon, as Kitty, Brewster, and I relived the race, I was still bursting with excitement and wondered if I could actually run a full marathon. It only took a little coaxing from Kitty before I firmed my decision to run my own marathon. Kitty suggested I tackle the New York Marathon in November. Why not start big?

On the way home to my family in Sea Cliff, the memory of running those miles in Boston stayed with me. The crowds had lured me into a high I hadn't felt since scoring the winning goal in a high-stakes lacrosse game. I wanted that feeling again. My goal was set. I had six months to train.

CHAPTER 2

November 2009

We felt fortunate to have both sons with us at Thanksgiving in 2009, as Tim now worked full-time in New York City, in the insurance business like his father, and Cryder, a senior at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, was facing his final season as a star lacrosse player.

By the time the four of us arrived in Delray Beach, Florida, to spend Thanksgiving (a tradition we'd begun a few years earlier), I had run in countless races, including marathons, triathlons, and several Ironmans, winning some, placing in others, and losing a few I thought I should have won. I was also in Delray to train for the Palm Beach Marathon, held during the first week in December, to redeem myself after a disappointing race a month earlier.

I had won the Palm Beach Marathon (among the women) in 2008, when I was fifty years old. It was an incredible thrill to finally win a big marathon, particularly at my age! But the previous October I had fared badly in the Baltimore Marathon. I felt I was in shape to run a 2hour, 55-minute race but my body thought differently. I was not light on my feet at the midway point, and the fatigue came much too early in the race. I struggled to keep my pace for the last eight miles. I ran a 3:02:16, a very respectable time but not up to my standards, and so I felt defeated and disappointed, particularly with my sixteenth overall finish and third place masters finish. Palm Beach would be my chance to turn that disappointment around, as I had done throughout my years of racing; go back to the drawing board, figure out what went wrong, regroup, and try again. By the time we arrived in Delray, I had two weeks before the race which I hoped was enough time to acclimate to the warmer temperatures.

*
As a child I'd weathered some tough times, especially the year my parents divorced in 1966, when I was only eight, and when many still considered the breakup of a marriage taboo and rather shameful. But nothing compared to the storm that was brewing as we ate our Thanksgiving dinner in 2009, when I was fifty-one and thinking life was becoming simpler again.

All I can say is that little prepares you for the worst year of your life, though having been an Ironwoman and a runner can help. My years of training and racing taught me valuable lessons about myself and life and overcoming obstacles I thought impossible to beat. Ultimately, surviving this ordeal boiled down to my runner's determination: I simply had to win the toughest race of my life.

*
Before I get to the events surrounding Thanksgiving, something had happened a couple of weeks earlier, before we arrived in Delray, and bothersome thoughts had settled into my subconscious, periodically surfacing and making me wonder if something was wrong with Lee.

In early November, Tim, Lee, and I went to Charleston, South Carolina, for the first wedding of one of Tim's high school "gang." All the boys had gathered there, and celebration filled the weekend — parties, dining, dancing. On Sunday morning after all the festivities had ended, I left our hotel room for my usual morning run while Lee promised to follow with his morning walk. It had been a late night on Saturday but we needed to sweat a little poison out of our systems. I struggled through my run and came back to find Lee still lounging and watching TV, claiming his leg was bothering him and that he didn't feel well. I gave him one of my questioning looks and said, "Wouldn't be due to trying to keep up with the boys, or the rock-star dancing you did last night, would it?" We laughed it off and packed our bags to head home.

By the time we got to the airport that afternoon, though, Lee felt worse and was clearly not looking his best. Our flight took us into Philadelphia from where we planned to drive home to Baltimore. We had separate seats on the plane, and when we reunited in Philadelphia, Lee said he still felt awful and now thought he had a fever. He didn't think he could drive.

(Continues…)

---

Excerpted from "Against the Wind"
by .
Copyright © 2015 Lee DiPietro.
Excerpted by permission of Skyhorse Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

---

Table of Contents

Prologue,
1. Running: The Beginning,
2. November 2009,
3. The Cushing Girls Minus One,
4. Christmas, Lee Style,
5. Ill Health Rings In the New Year,
6. Two Wins and a Scare,
7. More Tests to Endure,
8. Triathlons Are Contagious,
9. Nurse McNicey Returns,
10. Sarcoma,
11. Lee and Lee,
12. It's Cancer,
13. We Will Beat This!,
14. And So It Begins — A New Race,
15. Fast Track/Slow Track,
16. Swan Song — Ironman Canada 2000,
17. A New Routine,
18. Staying Focused,
19. The End ... of a Sort,
20. The Crash,
21. Two — One Stable, One Critical,
22. Tim — After the Crash,
23. A Bumpy Road and a Smooth One,
24. The Next Steps,
25. The Final Push,
26. A New Phase,
27. Summer Healing,
28. Return to New York,
29. Beating the Odds,
Epilogue,
A Special Tribute,
A Special Thank You,
Acknowledgments,

Editorial Reviews

“A riveting story of one brave woman’s fight to become a world class athlete and compete in the Ironman, and how the lessons she learned competing helped her save her family. A must read.” —Susan Butler, author of East to the Dawn: The Life of Amelia Earhart

“I have been privileged to coach and be around many great athletes, including Lee. What sets truly great athletes apart is character, and character transcends sports. Lee’s character is the star of this book about dealing with and overcoming unthinkable personal tragedy, the likes of which could only be dreamt up by some warped Hollywood fiction writer. Yet it is all true and Lee and her family survived, and we are blessed with an amazing story of a personal odyssey, which will inspire us all.” —Tracy Sundlun, former Olympic track & field coach and co-founder of the Rock ’n’ Roll Marathon series

“I have known Lee for two decades as a runner and fellow competitor. Her character is true gold and her commitment to any project she dedicates herself to, whether qualifying for the Olympic Trials or writing a book for publication, is rock solid. I know Lee’s story will be read with great interest in the running community and beyond.” —Gordon Bakoulis

“A riveting story of one brave woman’s fight to become a world class athlete and compete in the Ironman, and how the lessons she learned competing helped her save her family. A must read.” —Susan Butler, author of East to the Dawn: The Life of Amelia Earhart

“I have been privileged to coach and be around many great athletes, including Lee. What sets truly great athletes apart is character, and character transcends sports. Lee’s character is the star of this book about dealing with and overcoming unthinkable personal tragedy, the likes of which could only be dreamt up by some warped Hollywood fiction writer. Yet it is all true and Lee and her family survived, and we are blessed with an amazing story of a personal odyssey, which will inspire us all.” —Tracy Sundlun, former Olympic track & field coach and co-founder of the Rock ’n’ Roll Marathon series

“I have known Lee for two decades as a runner and fellow competitor. Her character is true gold and her commitment to any project she dedicates herself to, whether qualifying for the Olympic Trials or writing a book for publication, is rock solid. I know Lee’s story will be read with great interest in the running community and beyond.” —Gordon Bakoulis

From the Publisher