The pink dot on your screen is me, coming in to the finish line of the Hudson River Swim for Life last Saturday. I completed the swim in 32:46, which placed me in the bottom fifth, but it was my fastest mile ever, so, yay! What's that? Only a mile? Yes, for the second year in a row, the Swim for Life was cut to one mile for safety reasons. And I'll admit it, there were tears, big, salty, broken-hearted tears. When I heard the news that the Coast Guard had made the call, I was devastated. After two summers of training, after three surgeries, and a trip back from the very edges of health, after gains and losses of every shape and size to get to the end and not complete the task felt like failure. However, members of my team wrapped me in hugs and surrounded me with loving supportive words and got me through the sadness and frustration. My dear teammate, Rob, told me that I was a big part of the reason he had committed to the swim, that I promised to get him across. It's true. I promised, so I guess we're going to have to do it again next year.

The Coast Guard was probably right. Experienced kayakers were bouncing all over the place and inexperienced kayakers stayed on dry land. The chop was incredible, the current was very strong and at the very end I was fairly sure we would be swept into the rocks. Throughout the swim, visibility was low and swimmers were running into one another. I had hoped that during the three mile I would be able to get away from people and really get the chance to swim my own swim, but that will have to wait for next year. At the finish line, my parents were waiting; my mother ringing her purple cowbell like a pro.

All in all, it was a good day, even if it was not the day we had hoped for. I have a feeling many of us will be there again next year with a score to settle. It's kind of appropriate, because, just like the search for a cure and an end to blood cancer, it isn't finished. We may not have conquered the river or cured cancer, but we've done what we could and we'll keep fighting. So far the team has raised over $45,000 and we would like to make that $50,000. My donation page is still up, http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/Hudson12/emilyg if you're so inclined. Thank you all for your words or support, donations and prayers. You're part of this team too and I appreciate you all!

Two more days! I'm just a walking talking bundle of nervous energy. Tonight the team will come together for our Send Off Dinner, a few hours of camaraderie and laughter and eating before we head home to prepare for our swim. There is something a little sad about this night. We are a team, but this is a very individual sport. We've trained together, pushed each other and cheered one another on, but on Saturday, we will swim alone.

I find I swim best when I can forget about everyone else in the water, focus on my own stroke, my own breath, my own body, but it can be a very lonely endeavor. On Saturday, one person will hold the key to my success and to tell you the truth, right now she's a hot mess. However, I'm never really alone. I think of you all often as I swim, those of you who have gotten me this far with your comments, shares and words of encouragement. I ask for your thoughts and prayers over the next 36 hours or so, for myself, for my team and for those we swim for.

If you have not yet donated, there is still time. As of this moment I have $714 dollars left to raise to meet my personal goal.

Thank you for reading, for your donations, for your support. I am so grateful to all my family and friends for getting me this far.

Lord, I hope I have some Penguin Swag on Saturday! Just look at those guys, cool, confident, ready for anything. Yesterday, two teammates and I were discussing the fact that while there are some speedy, athletic, graceful swimmers on our team, the three of us are definitely the B Team. The slower ones, the ones most likely to elicit eye-rolls from our extremely patient coaches, the most likely to forget our goggles, prone to injury, real or imagined, oh yeah, that would be us. We've decided to call ourselves Group W, which will make sense to Arlo Guthrie* fans. We're owning our lovable loserness, our outsider cache, our "always picked last" personal narratives, because it's a testament to how far we've come.

On Saturday, it won't really matter how cool we are. What will matter is how far we've come and how well we handle those last three miles of the journey. All of us have come so far. I look around my team at people who have gained skills and speed, sure, but I also see people who have become more confident, stronger and slightly more insane. Together we have raised as a team, 33,771!!! Personally, I am still $875 away from my goal. Can you help?

New Blog posts are up at http://floatationdevices.blogspot.com/.

Look How Cute the SwimTeam Is!