Amputee missing foot, but she still has her junior black belt

By Lindsay Tice , Staff Writer
Friday, May 29, 2009 05:00 am

LEWISTON - Jaedyn Gousse makes the karate moves look effortless.

Kick, kick, kick. Turn, kick, kick. Tumble, roll, block. "Hi-ya!"

In the small class at Pelletiers Karate Academy, she's always the first or second to finish the routine - and finish perfectly. One of her instructors believes the 9-year-old, who recently earned her junior black belt, has the skills and talent to become a karate master.

The Auburn third-grader does it all with one foot.

"So far, people haven't really noticed because I do it so good," she said with a grin.

Jaedyn was born with fibula hemimelia, a disorder that affects the lower leg and foot. She was missing a toe and a bone in her lower left leg, and her tibia - the bone between knee and ankle - was shortened and bowed. Doctors told her parents, Jeff and Lisa Gousse, they had two options: limb lengthening or amputation.

Limb lengthening would require at least three major surgeries and a series of minor ones, plus work to correct Jaedyn's foot. She would likely spend her childhood in and out of hospitals.

But if they chose amputation, there would be no going back.

"It was an agonizing decision," Lisa Gousse said.

After meeting with specialists, the Gousses decided amputation would cause the least pain and offer the best chance of a normal life for their daughter. When Jaedyn was 10 and a half months old, doctors amputated her left foot at the ankle.

A few months later, she was walking with a prosthesis.

Years later, she decided she wanted to learn karate.

"I started dreaming about being a black belt," Jaedyn said.

Her parents always encouraged her to try activities, and they said yes to karate. Privately, Lisa Gousse asked Rich Pelletier, owner and instructor at Pelletiers Karate Academy in Lewiston, whether her missing foot would be a problem.

Pelletier had taught students with disabilities before, including one person who was blind. He had no reservations about enrolling the 7-year-old in his children's class.

"What I look at is what the kid can do when they get on the floor," he said.

Jaedyn, it turned out, could do everything. For three classes a week she ran with the other students during warm-ups, kept up during practices and perfected her katas (karate forms).

Jaedyn has done so well that she's a member of the karate school's demonstration team, a group that tours fairs, schools and other gatherings to demonstrate martial arts skills. Last month, she earned her junior black belt.

Karate is fun, Jaedyn said. "But it's kind of more work than fun because you try to get every move right."

There are few moves Jaedyn can't get right because of her foot. Her prosthesis doesn't bend at the ankle, which stops her from completing the perfect roundhouse kick. She substitutes a side kick.

Her foot doesn't limit her activities outside karate class, either. She's taken dance lessons and participated in cheering. This summer she'll attend activity summer camp, where she'll go to the beach and Funtown in Saco. Sometimes, at school or during one of her activities, someone will ask about her missing foot. The attention, she said, can be embarrassing. But she understands the curiosity.

"They've probably never encountered it before," she said.

At karate, it's rare for anyone to even notice she has a prosthesis, let alone question it.

"Maybe a new student," Pelletier said. "They'll look down. They'll look down again. It'll throw them off for a moment and then they're like, 'OK. Whatever.'"

Pelletier believes Jaedyn could rise to the highest karate level if she decides to stick with it. Jaedyn has no plans to quit.

She wants her full black belt.

Amputees win Capitol fight

By David Saleh Rauf - Express-News
When Mona Patel and Leslie Tramer started organizing a group of amputees pushing a proposal that would require private health insurers to pony up for at least 80 percent of the cost of prosthetic limbs and repairs, she knew they'd face a tough battle.



Lawmakers, health care providers and small businesses opposed to any insurance mandate would be lined up to kill the legislation. So Patel, a 36-year-old amputee and founder of a San Antonio support group for people who have lost limbs, and her “partner in crime” Tramer devised a strategy: Maintain a strong visible presence at the Capitol by getting as many amputees and their stories about fighting with insurance companies in front of lawmakers and their staffs.

Their ambitions were undeterred by physical handicaps: One day before the full House was scheduled to vote on the bill, a small group of amputees hit the offices of about 140 lawmakers. They passed out fact sheets and spoke about the more than 30,000 Texans who rely on private insurance to help pay for their prosthetics.

“We got a majority bipartisan vote the next day,” Patel said.

It was the beginning of an aggressive grass-roots lobbying effort that would culminate five weeks later when House Bill 806, a measure that orders private insurers to offer coverage for prosthetics equal to what Medicare provides its members, was sent to Gov. Rick Perry's desk. With little fanfare, Perry signed the bill into law earlier this month, making Texas the 16th state to enact what amputees call “prosthetic parity.” The bill takes effect Sept. 1.

“This is huge in the prosthetics world,” said Kim Rice, the mother of a Wetmore Elementary fifth-grader with a prosthetic leg that is fitted and maintained for free by the Texas Scottish Rite Hospital for Children in Dallas.

Rice was forced to find prosthetic options outside of San Antonio because her family's health insurance capped such coverage at $2,500 a year — thousands less than what it was going to cost in upkeep for her son's prosthetic every year.

The caps on prosthetic coverage that the Rice family faced are typical, activists say. The effect: Amputees are commonly left scrambling to find funding for prosthetics, ranging from $8,000 to $80,000, that they say help them return to fully functioning roles in society.

But with every insurance mandate passed by the Legislature, premiums in Texas continue to rise, critics warn. Texas' insurance plans already are subject to 55 mandates, making the Lone Star State one of the five most heavily regulated states in the country, according to the Texas Public Policy Foundation, an Austin-based conservative think tank.

Activists for HB 806 say the prosthetic mandate will increase the cost of premiums by about $4 a year, but opponents say any mandate will harm consumers by making insurance more expensive. Aside from the prosthetics bill, at least three other insurance mandates passed this session. They're waiting for Perry's signature.

“If you add up all the mandates, you see the impact,” said Jennifer Ahrens, executive director of Texas Association of Health Life Insurers.

Amputees pay those premiums, too. And when they lose a battle with their health insurer over prosthetics, some turn to the state for assistance.

Albert Garcia, for example, had his arm surgically removed nearly three years ago after he was hit by an SUV on a Northwest Side street. He spent the next two years battling with his insurance company until he finally asked the state for help to pay for his $80,000 motion-sensor-controlled arm. “It was basically the taxpayers paying for my prosthesis when it should have been my insurance company,” he said. “That's why HB 806 is so important.”

Widow of soldier killed in Iraq dedicates her Rock 'n' Roll Marathon run

By Don Norcross, Union-Tribune Staff Writer
2:00 a.m. May 28, 2009
Michelle Bowman will carry the memory of her husband Robby along with her through her second Rock 'n' Roll Marathon. (K.C. Alfred / Union-Tribune) -

THE RACE
When: 6:30 a.m. Sunday
Start: Palm and 6th Avenue
Finish: Marine Corps Recruit Depot
Info: rnrmarathon.com

Michelle Bowman was expecting a delivery to her Fort Lewis, Wash., home. So when her doorbell rang early in the morning on Friday, April 13, 2007, she slipped on a robe, walked downstairs and peeked out the window.
When she saw two men dressed in Army uniforms, she knew.
Her husband had been killed.
“The only time the military comes to your doorstep,” says Bowman, “is if it's death.”
The chaplain and notification officer confirmed that Spc. Larry “Robby” Bowman had been killed by a roadside bomb outside Baghdad, Iraq.
Recalls Michelle, “I remember going upstairs, looking through my closet, my hands shaking, going, 'Oh God, Oh God.' ”

Come Sunday, Bowman, now 30, will join nearly 17,000 other runners, squeezed like cattle into corrals on the west side of Balboa Park for the 12th annual Rock 'n' Roll Marathon. She ran the race last year, finishing in 5 hours, 11 minutes.
There is an irony to Bowman becoming a marathoner.
Sitting in her Pacific Beach home, shooing two cats away from a visitor, Bowman says, “I'm not one of those people who (feel) running is my zen. I don't like running. I have to force myself to go out and do it.”
So why does she run?
Shortly after Bowman's death, his sister, Angela Sigmon, called Michelle. Sigmon and her husband were going to run a half marathon in Robby's memory. They wanted to know if Michelle would attend the race.
“Screw that,” said Michelle. “If anybody's running in memory of my husband, I'm in on that.”
They had T-shirts made in Robby's honor. On the back was a quote Bowman lived by: “Life has a taste that the sheltered will never know.”
Michelle wasn't much of a runner then. Two miles. That was her limit before training for that February 2008 half marathon. That's how far she used to run on Saturday mornings with Robby. He didn't like running much, either. But it kept him in shape for the Army's physical training. She still remembers their first run together.
It fell on her 27th birthday.
“I was dying,” she says. “It was pitiful. But he just kept encouraging me. 'C'mon, baby. You can do it.' ”
Inevitably during long-distance training there come times when the body rebels, longing to quit. Your feet ache. Your thighs throb. Your calves cramp. It becomes a mental game. And the mental game Bowman played during difficult workouts was to repeat her late husband's words like a mantra.
“C'mon, baby. You can do it.”

Michelle grew up in Perris, near Temecula. She moved to Lenoir, N.C., when she was 13and first saw Robby at a roller skating rink when she was 15.
“I saw him walk in across the room and I gasped,” says Bowman. “I grabbed my friend's arm and said, 'Who is that?' ”
She pauses, then adds, “It took me two years before he even had a clue who I was.”
They were friends long before the relationship turned serious. Near Thanksgiving 2003, more than nine years later, Robby returned home from his first tour of Iraq on emergency leave after his father died. Michelle happened to be visiting her family and attended the funeral.
“Our relationship changed after that,” she says.
On April 1, 2005, with Robby living in Fort Hood, Texas, and Michelle in San Diego, they eloped and were married.
When she thinks of her late husband, she remembers a man who was true to his Southern roots.
“He was just a good ol' Southern redneck, but totally proud of it,” she says. “I don't think I ever met anybody who didn't instantly take to him. He could walk into any room, not know a single person and walk out with a room full of new best friends.”
One of his favorite passions: barbecue.
“Literally, his favorite thing was to be on the grill,” she says. “He spent two hours the day before preparing the meat. And it couldn't be (a) gas (barbecue). Had to be charcoal.”
He was proud to be in the military.
“My husband loved being a soldier,” Bowman says.
She cried once during last year's Rock 'n' Roll Marathon, about 17½ miles into the race, where the course cuts through military housing near Mission Bay High. She saw military decals on cars, yellow ribbons, children running about in yards.
“I started crying,” she says, “bawling in the middle of the marathon.”
Bowman stayed in North Carolina for a month after burying her husband there. She chose to return to San Diego, where she had lived from 2001 to 2005.
“There was too much of him there (in North Carolina),” Michelle says. “For my healing process, I don't think I could be anywhere where I'd be surrounded by him constantly. San Diego was Robby neutral.”
Bowman has helped organize an annual run in her husband's memory in rural North Carolina. The first “Robby's Run,” a 5K, was held on April 13, 2008, the one-year anniversary of his death. The race has raised nearly $11,000. Bowman has targeted two military charities as beneficiaries. One focuses on military amputees and burn victims. The other focuses on mental health benefits for soldiers.
“She is nothing but an inspiration to me,” says Barbara Jane Braswell, Robby's mother. “If you've ever seen pictures of them together, they were very much in love. I love her to death.”

A few weeks before her husband died, Michelle and Robby decided that one day they would summit Washington's Mount Rainier.
Last August, on the day before her 30th birthday, with temperatures in the teens, Michelle completed the two-day summit. She walked into the crater, dug a hole with a pickax and buried a set of Robby's military dog tags. Then she removed a vial she had draped around her neck and spread some of his ashes.
“I was a sobbing mess,” she says. “I've done a lot to honor his memory, and to keep that spirit he had alive. I've also moved on with my life.”
She works as a manager at an upscale restaurant and wine bar. She's in a serious relationship, talking marriage and buying a home.
“I know (Robby) would want me to move on, get married, have the family I always wanted,” she says. “I told myself, only one of us died that day. It was a horrible thing, but I've still got to go on with my life.”
Asked what Robby would think of the woman who once needed to be pushed to jog two miles now running 26.2, she smiles, brushes back some of her long, dark hair and says, “He'd be like, 'That's my girl.' ”
Don Norcross: (619) 293-1803;

Wounded veteran Kortney Clemons takes on Oscar Pistorius at the Paralympic World Cup

Oscar Pistorius, the triple Paralympic gold medallist, will be the main draw in the athletics portion of the BT Paralympic World Cup in Manchester, at the Sport City Regional Arena, but lining up alongside the young South African in the 100m sprint will be the remarkable USA athlete Kortney Clemons.
By Gareth A Davies
Last Updated: 4:05PM BST 23 May 2009


Speed king: US national Paralympic 100m champion Kortney Clemons Photo: AP
Clemons was the first Iraq war veteran to qualify for the US Paralympic team and compete at the Beijing Games after losing a leg in roadside bomb when helping a colleague in 2005. Clemons insists he is "living proof that you can accomplish anything".

On Feb. 21, 2005, Clemons, then 24, a combat medic in the 1st Cavalry Division, went to the aid of a soldier whose Humvee had been blown off a dirt road outside Baghdad by an insurgent's bomb.

Oscar Pistorius: Great Britain's support for Paralympians is the best
Soldier blown up as he rescued wounded colleagueHe was readying the wounded soldier for a helicopter evacuation when a second bomb nearby killed three fellow medics and blew away Clemons' right leg from above the knee. It was five days before he was due to be discharged from the army.

Six months later Clemons began running with a prosthetic limb, insisting he went through a period of "re-introducing myself to myself". Who knows the dark places a man must go to replace the physical loss, literally, and seemingly, the end of his active lifestyle?

Yet Clemons insists he searched his soul for the reasons that God would want to take his leg, and found solace in sprinting.

"I came to the realisation that he did this for a reason. He wanted me to make something more of myself. I had to lose my leg to find the real me."

A few months after that uplifting first run he claimed the US national Paralympic title in the 100m sprint. He failed to win a medal in Beijing, but the single amputee continues to improve.

The native of Little Rock, Mississippi, has always loved sports. Before joining the army, he played junior college football and in spite of being 5ft10 and 145lbs, was a formidable defensive back. He has shown the same inspiration as a Paralympian.

Also on the track is one of Great Britain's greatest Paralympians, Danny Crates, the Paralympic record holder at 800m is back in action after injury, and contemplating retirement, while one of Britain's rising track and field stars, Nathan Stephens, the world junior champion at shot, discus and javelin, also competes.

Stephens has already been a summer and winter Paralympian for GB despite having his legs amputated when he was run over by a train on his 9th birthday.

Amputee, 5, is already a world beater on her bionic blades

By Tamara Cohen
Last updated at 7:29 AM on 19th May 2009

Add to My Stories He has been called the fastest man on no legs. But Oscar 'Blade Runner' Pistorius got a run for his money when five-year-old Ellie Challis challenged him to a race on their bionic feet.
Paralympian Pistorius, world record holder for double amputees at 100, 200 and 400 metres, may have made some allowance for age and the fact that Ellie's blades were fitted only last month.
But she had clearly learned quicker than he bargained for - Ellie crossed the line first in all four of their 15-metre races.



The youngster, from Little Clacton, Essex, lost her hands and lower legs after contracting meningitis at 16 months.
She was fitted with conventional prosthetic legs but found them painful so her parents Paul and Lisa contacted Dorset Orthopaedic who made her a junior version of the type of carbon-fibre blades used by 22-yearold Pistorius. Ellie is the youngest person to wear them and is making remarkable progress - as she proved against the South African paralympian.
Pistorius had both legs amputated below the knee at 11 months when doctors discovered he had no fibulas.

He runs using Cheetah Flex-Foot limbs made by a company called Ossur.
Ellie's are the same brand but are more difficult to walk on because her legs were amputated above the knee.
Ellie was cheered on by her twin Sophie, sister Taila, nine, and brother Connor, 11, at a sports centre in Enfield, North London. Pistorius will compete in Manchester on Sunday at the Paralympic World Cup, sponsored by BT, for whom he acts as an ambassador.

Surfer missing leg is 'Amp'd' to paddle out again

A Newport teen who had a leg amputated gets back on the surfboard
By LAYLAN CONNELLY
The Orange County Register
Comments 4| Recommend 2

Shane Lincoln stood on the sand at San Onofre State Beach, practicing his pop-up on a surfboard before getting into the water.

He pressed down on his left leg to see how the shocks were working, fidgeting with his screws to add more spring to his step.

It would be much different then when Lincoln, now 17, started surfing as a child.

Back then, he had both his legs intact.

Lincoln on Saturday morning went out for a surf session for the first time since having his left leg amputated nearly 3 years ago, joining a group of other amputee surfers for a program called "Amp'd."

The outing was organized by Amy Ginsburg, an employee at Hanger, an Orange County based-prosthetics company. The surf groups – who have been meeting up occasionally since August - are made up of patients, but soon Ginsburg wants to open the surf outings up to others.



"It's just a cool way for them to find something else they can try, and be good at," she said. "I like to get people back to doing what they used to do."

Surfing with other amputees allows them to share tips, and to see that missing a limb doesn't mean you can't do what you love.

Before hitting the water, Wayne Tanimine chatted with Lincoln to share his surf technique.



Tanimine, 55, takes his prosthetic off and leaves it on the sand, riding waves on one leg in a crouched position.

Tanimine lost his leg in 1975 after a bout with joint cancer. It took him about 10 years to get back in the water, and these days he can be found surfing just about every day.

"I want to do what I can to help," he said. "I know what it's like."

He has to worry about things like not slipping on rocks while walking on one leg in and out of the water, or what time high tide hits so his leg doesn't get swept into the ocean.

Lincoln decided to do it different than Tanimine, leaving his sports prosthetic on while in the water.

"I know I'm not going to be shredding, but no matter what, I'll be in the water, so it will be a good day," Lincoln said.

Lincoln's injury happened 2 years, 8 months, and 29 days ago, when a drunk driver smashed into him as he helped push a friend's car up a hill in Newport Beach after it broke down.

"I just heard (my friend) yell 'look out'!" the former Newport Harbor High student recalled. "I was totally frozen. I just saw headlights."

His leg was mostly severed. A 4-inch piece of his femur was left in the street.

Doctors thought they might be able to reattach his leg. But after 38 surgeries and months of unbearable pain, he made the decision to have it cut off.

"I'd rather have a fake leg that works than a real one that doesn't. I just decided it was time," he said.

Life got tough after that. The pain was severe, and soon he was hooked to the pain medication – which then led to other drugs.

"It got rough, and I'd break down in tears," he said. "I was constantly in pain. I got in the mindset 'I'm not ever going to be able to do anything again."

After a long struggle, his family eventually had enough and sent him to rehab. Now, he's been off drugs for six months, and is slowly pulling his life back together.

On Saturday, he got a big piece of his life back: the thrill of riding a wave.

As he paddled out, his father Scott asked him if he wanted to give it a shot in the whitewash – where the waves are a bit more gentle – but Lincoln powered through to the outside sets.

After paddling for a few waves, he finally got into one with enough power to move his board forward.

He slowly put his hands on the top board to push his body up, but hesitated too much and lost balance, his board flying out from under him.

He got back on the board to try again.

On his next attempt, he was quicker – and in a quick second he was standing up and riding a wave, flying down the line.

His dad cheered from his surfboard.

"That was awesome," his dad said, as Lincoln went back out for more.

He grabbed his son's hand: "Just one of many, son."

After riding about five waves, Lincoln was done for the day, stoked on his accomplishment.

"It was sooo sick. I didn't think it would be that easy," Lincoln said. "It was epic."

Contact the writer: lconnelly@ocregister.com

Love life and life will love you back. Love people and they will love you back.

by Joey Nowak | The Grand Rapids Press
Saturday May 09, 2009, 9:35 PM

Elizabeth Stone always wanted to run. What was stopping her was not the will to do so, but the physical ability.

Born with only one leg, the 18-year-old Grand Rapids Christian High School senior has had a prosthetic leg since she was 4-years-old.

Then, three months ago, she had a running leg put on so she could compete in events like the River Bank Run 25K.

On Saturday, Stone crossed the finish line in the event she had been dreaming of competing in with an unofficial time of about two hours and 40 minutes.

"I feel pretty good," she said. "I had a little bit more energy at the end than I thought. I'm happy with the result. My goal was to stay under 3 hours and I did that."

Strangers befriended Stone throughout the event, cheering her throughout the course and offering such encouraging words as "You're my hero" at the finish line.

Since beginning to run with the new running foot about three months ago, the longest race Stone had competed in was a 15K training race.

"I'm really excited," she said. "It's been a goal. I've only been training for three months and I said I hope I'll be able to finish and compete in this and I did that. So I'm really happy."

With her first 25K under her belt, Stone has loftier goals in mind.

Having taken the first step in such a short period of time, she's confident she can strive to achieve loftier dreams.

"In the future, I'd like to do marathons and an Iron Man," she said. "But that's a little bit in the future."

Girl doesn’t let disability slow her down

For More Photos click here!
By Ray Brewer

Tue, May 5, 2009 (2:29 p.m.)

Boulder City track athlete competes with prosthetic limb
Danyell Harding will never forget her first practice with the Boulder City High track team.

She nearly quit the squad five minutes into her initial workout as she labored during warm-ups, jogging twice around the track for a half mile.

Her teammates moved into specialized training, but Harding was still struggling with one of the sport’s fundamentals — running.

As an infant, Harding had her right leg amputated below the knee and has walked with the help of a prosthetic limb her entire life. Her leg was damaged at birth.

Now a freshman, she had avoided playing sports. She cried uncontrollably both times her father tried to take her to a youth soccer practice when she was younger. But some friends who live in her neighborhood were on the track team and convinced her to give it a try.

“Everyone has been so encouraging toward me. My friends told me how laid back track was and how there were no cuts, so I would be on the team,” she said. “I decided I will try whatever. If I couldn’t run, I could throw.”

Fast forward three short months.

Harding, who competes in the shot put and discus, jogs in the middle of the pack during the warm-up run. She smiles and talks to her teammates about school and everything else teenagers gossip about.

Harding didn’t score any points for Boulder City this spring, but if you talk to most of her teammates, they say her participation alone is an accomplishment more impressive than winning a meet.

“It’s fun to see her out here because she never wanted to do sports before,” said teammate Amber Smith, who along with her twin sister, Ashley, have been friends with Harding since she moved to town when she was 3 years old. “I’m glad she stayed with it.”

Harding said she remembers looking down at her blue and gold uniform at her first meet and just being thrilled to represent her school.

“She comes out and always tries her best,” Boulder City coach Steve Roe said. “Everyone enjoys her. She is a good Boulder City kid.”

One of the disadvantages of competing with a prosthetic leg comes in twisting and turning to throw the discus. Having no ankle to turn on has made things more difficult, Roe said.

Harding’s personal best throw in the discus is 48 feet, 10 inches, which is about 18 feet farther than her throws at the beginning of the year. She improved nearly five feet in the shot put with a top throw of 18-9.

Roe said Harding’s scores are comparable to most girls in their first year and said her petite frame and 5-foot-1 height are more limiting than competing with a prosthetic limb.

“She can become competitive for us,” said Roe, who figures Harding will be able to score points for the Eagles by the time she is a junior.

Harding is full of stories from her inaugural season.

One she chuckles while telling comes from a practice before her first meet. Roe let the girls test themselves in a variety of events and Harding attempted the hurdles.

She fell while trying to clear the first hurdle. As teammates looked at her, and some rushed over to see if she was injured, Harding started laughing.

She has always viewed wearing a prosthetic with humor. She knows some people stare at her at school and on the track, but she does not let it bother her.

“I feel like I have a normal life,” she said. “I always stay upbeat and positive.”

Nothing keeps boy from finishing triathlon

He swims, bikes, runs in event with one leg and prosthetic, parental help
By Roger Bull Story updated at 12:01 PM on Monday, May. 4, 2009

Tim Houston entered his first triathlon Sunday morning, and he finished every bit of it - the swim, the bike and the walk/run. His mother wasn't so sure how he'd do on the bike ride, his prosthetic leg has been chafing him a bit. But he made it all the way from start to finish.

Oh, by the way, Tim is 5 years old.

This is the first year the YMCA has held the First Coast Kids Triathlon, and there was no shortage of kids. Officials had to shut down registration after about 501 of them signed up. Tom Gildersleeve, one of the organizers, said that the event is already the third largest children's triathlon in the country.



The athletes and their parents gathered early Sunday morning at the University of North Florida. They wheeled their bicycles into the fenced transition area, parked them and went out to the big tent to wait for instructions.

Tim walked most of the way there, without his prostheses, but pushing a small walker he sometimes uses around the house. He's used to this. He lost his left leg at mid-thigh to a blood clot when he was 21 days old. He got his first prostheses at 16 months, but recently received a new one through the Challenged Athletes Foundation.

He'd already been swimming for a couple of years, but his new leg gives much more flexibility and stability, his father, Jim Houston, said. Tim used to be bothered by all the attention, by the staring, Dad said, but he's getting better about that.

The task in front of Tim and all the other 8-and-younger athletes was this: Swim 100 meters in the pool, ride 3 miles on a bicycle and then finish with a half-mile walk/run.

His mother, Carolyn Houston, carried him into the aquatics center, placed a swim fin on his right foot. And there he sat waiting on the bleachers, just another kid in a sea of goggles and orange swim caps.

When it was his turn, he dropped into the water and off he swam passing, that's passing, other swimmers fairly easily. From there, Mom took him to the locker room where she helped him get his leg, the one he calls his Star Wars leg, on. He walked to the transition area, got on his bike and off he went again, with Mom running alongside.

So many children out swimming, biking and running meant that parents were just about as busy. They ran from spot to spot, either to get a few more photos, a few more seconds of video or to holler important tips, like "Go! Go!"

As the young contestants returned from their bike ride, some still were sprinting, as they had every stroke, every step, every pedal of the way. Others quite clearly had had enough of the whole thing and were just barely moving along.

When Tim finally returned from his bike ride, he had a full escort. Not only was Mom still running alongside, several of the adult riders who had been going back and forth to keep an eye on things, rode alongside, encouraging him to keep going.

He finished his ride, gave Dad a quick kiss and headed off down the sidewalk lined with people who cheered him on. He had been at it for about an hour, and he was slowing down a bit. But he kept moving.



Tim's older brother Brett, who turns 8 next week, already had finished. It wasn't too hard, he said, though he confessed he did have to walk a few times on that final leg.

Brett keeps an eye his brother and is pretty protective, his father said. But Brett did admit that sometimes Tim is a bit of trouble. (You know, little brothers.)

Mom left Tim to go on his own for his final dash to the finish line. Brett and Dad were there, so were dozens of others who gathered at the fence to cheer on that particular testament to the human spirit in the form of a 40-pound boy with glasses.

Tim got his medal, a bottle of water and whole bunch of congratulations.

"He can do anything he wants," Dad said. And Mom Carolyn, who ran with him most of the way, noted that Tim was now a triathlete.

"I've never done a triathlon," she said. "But now he has."

As for Tim, he didn't have a lot to say. "What was the best part," he was asked, "was it finishing?" "Swimming," he said, "when I beat them."

roger.bull@jacksonville.com

(904) 359-4296