Do you ever feel like you’re not tall enough, skinny enough, fit enough, rich enough, experienced enough, or just plain good enough to try something? Ever want to do something, but don’t know how, so you don’t get started? I have a short story to tell you. I wish I could tell you the entire story, but it would take an entire book, and it may read like a fiction novel. Fortunately, a documentary crew has been chronicling this story for 8 years. In 2008, you will be able to see for yourself the story of a remarkable man appropriately nicknamed “Half A Soulja.” (www.HalfASoulja.com)

About 6 months ago, I was networked into Soulja, a man who wanted to compete in the New York City Triathlon (1-mile swim, 25-mile bike, 6 mile run). He was already fairly athletic, had participated in athletic competitions in his youth, and was ready for a new challenge. The difference between him and other triathlon “newbies” is that he was born with short misshapen arms with one finger on each hand and without hipbones or legs. He has one kidney. From the top of his head to the tip of his – bottom – he stands and sits proud at 2 feet 10 inches. To make ends meet, on each non-rainy day, he travels from what most Americans think of as “the projects” or “the hood” in the Bronx to the corner of 60th and Madison in Manhattan, working as a panhandler.

So why would this guy want to do a triathlon? And how? And how would someone like me help him? And if I were able to help him, would I somehow be endorsing a panhandling lifestyle, fueling a bad habit, or putting myself in danger?

I soon discovered that Soulja was earnestly in pursuit of a better “equality” of life for himself and his disabled counterparts. After speaking with him, I learned of his “motivation in motion” motto. He lives by this phrase, wearing it proudly on his t-shirts and speaking it to the hundreds of people he meets daily on the streets of New York. He likes to prove people wrong, with shock value attached. Doing a triathlon would be his next adventure. So, without the ordinary physical bodily resources, financial resources, equipment, or knowledge to complete a triathlon, what would he do? He already had a mentor in Steven Drewes, a lean manufacturing VP of Global Ops, who had met Soulja at a Tony Robbins event a couple of months earlier. Steven, a former collegiate wrestler, was a newbie who had completed one triathlon before.

Steven and I began to discuss how we might help Soulja complete the triathlon. He suggested that we tie a rope to an inflatable raft to pull Soulja through the swim, build a bucket for him to sit in on the back of a bike, and push him in a running carriage for the run. Soulja didn’t exactly say no to this option, but insisted that he be a participant, not a traveling spectator. Although a novel idea, I knew a backseat bucket on a bike would never be approved, if only for safety reasons.

I began to make some phone calls, the first of which was to the New York City Triathlon Race Director, John Korff (www.KorffEnterprises.com). I had worked with John when I served on the USA Triathlon Board of Directors several years ago. Immediately, John agreed to help.

He put me in touch with Bob Babbitt of the Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF - www.ChallengedAthletes.org). We learned that Soulja was a candidate for a handcycle grant! But, would it actually work out? (Yes, it did - pic with Paula Newby Fraser and Bob Babbitt at CAF Gala in NYC). And, what would he do for the run?

John was on board as a full supporter, but I could tell he was a bit skeptical. Later, after Soulja, Steven, and I were confident with the recipe for triathlon success, John would call or email me almost daily to ask, “do you really think he’ll finish?”

I typically responded with something like, “I won’t guarantee he’ll finish, but I can guarantee we’re setting him up for the most successful race possible.” So here was the plan: Soulja would swim the mile downstream in the Hudson River, using his one-fingered arms sculling in an upright position. I would swim with him to ensure his safety, blocking any athletes from bumping into him. Thanks to the late Jim McCann of Wetsuit Rental (www.WetsuitRental.com), Soulja had a wetsuit to use.

Thanks to SBR Multipsorts, (www.SBRMultisports.com), we had a triathlon store to call "homebase!" Thanks to Equinox (www.EquinoxFitness.com), he had a swimming pool in which to practice. After my first session with him, I wasn’t sure if he’d be comfortable enough in the water to race. From Rhode Island, I traveled to NYC every two weeks to train with Soulja. He was so motivated to learn to swim that he trained 4-5 times per week on his own each day after “work.” By my third visit, Soulja was swimming nearly effortlessly!

Soulja received the grant from CAF and the handcycle was delivered through Ironman World Champion Carlos Moleda’s handcycle company (www.HandCycleRacing.com) only 5 weeks before the triathlon. We knew he needed a lot of practice, not only “dialing in” the position and technique, but also in repetitive arm-motion endurance. We were all concerned about the minimal amount of time he would have to practice. Once Soulja dialed in the handcycle position, he struggled to get out and practice.

It was a challenge to bike in the Bronx, and traveling to Central Park each day with the handcycle was very expensive. Plus, the cranks put a tremendous strain on his delicate fingers. The day of the NYC Triathlon, he had only completed a total of 35 training miles on his handcycle. We were concerned about his ability to finish the handcycle portion, but as usual, Soulja assured us, “I’m good.” We knew Steven would be cycling next to him during the race, so that boosted our confidence in his ability to complete this ambitious undertaking.

We were most convinced of his running potential. As a child, Soulja had used a skateboard for transportation in place of a pair of legs. Like most other triathletes, Soulja wanted to look cool, too! We went to a Manhattan skateboard store and purchased a hot new skull and bones skateboard with the numbers “½” carved into the sandpaper skid. He practiced in the atrium of the mall with a tremendous sense of balance. The mall shoppers could not stop staring as he dazzled the crowd with his skateboard tricks.

Talk about driven! The guy has done just about everything for himself his entire life. He even drives a car. The only question we had was whether or not he really understood what he was getting into. We would tell him that able-bodied people spend many months, and sometimes years preparing for a triathlon. He would respond, “my life is a triathlon. Are you doubting my abilities?” That was our way of teaching and motivating him to practice more – and his way of reassuring us of his commitment and confidence in himself.

When it came to race day, July 22, 2007, Soulja arrived at the swim start in darkness at 4am. We knew we all had to be on the boat to the swim start between 5:15 and 5:30 to get to the starting pontoon for a 5:50 start. At 5:05, Soulja had donned his wetsuit, cap, and goggles with limited help, and we saw him shimmying like an inchworm down the ramp to the boat. It took Steven and me a bit longer to get our wetsuits on, and at 5:15, the boat pulled away with Soulja and only one other physically challenged athlete on board. We would find out later that he told the boat driver to depart, and the driver honored this request! We hollered to have them wait, but Soulja told him to keep going. He often says, “a CEO must always be early!” He doesn’t wait for anyone!

Steven and I ended up hustling the mile to the start by foot. The anthem was played, a handful of pro men high-fived (or high-oned) Soulja, and we were off to swim. When he jumped in the water, which we had practiced in the pool, it was quite a shock. He was used to a 6-inch drop to the water, but the pontoon was a much higher meter above the water. Soulja dipped far below the surface for what seemed like 5 minutes. It was probably less than 5 seconds. He was noticeably scared. Within a few moments, he was back to his regular self, the way I had taught him in the pool. Throughout the swim, he recited, “Cool in the pool. You say I’m cool in the pool.” A couple times, swimmers from subsequent waves swam right up behind him, not thinking anyone would be in front. I swam behind Soulja and firmly blocked about a dozen people. Soulja kept going and never once stopped to take a break. Impressive. After the race, he would tell me that the hardest part was the swim.

The transition from the swim to the bike consisted of Soulja walking himself up the metal ramp to his handcycle. Steve helped bandage up both of his hands for padding on the handcycle cranks. A funny moment occurred. He put on what he called his “bike glasses,” which were a dark pair of swim goggles that he said he needed to “keep the dust out.” Clearly, they would be foggy within moments, but he had to learn it for himself. In about 10 minutes, Soulja and Steve were off. I ran behind Soulja and helped push him up the initial hill. He was already pushing the cranks too hard. I reminded him that he should only push as hard as he could maintain for 3 hours. I knew it would be a challenging ride.

Throughout his ride, Kathy Kiley, the Half A Soulja documentary producer, and I received periodic updates from the video crew, his family, and friends. The first update went something like this: he’s huffing and puffing, struggling, and doesn’t look good. He’s taking a break and hasn’t reached the halfway point yet. He looks dehydrated and doesn’t have any energy.

Kathy and I looked at each other and laughed. His undertraining for the handcycle was showing through. We tried to persuade him to train more in advance. We knew how stubborn he was. We knew that Steven would keep him motivated. We knew that a large downhill section would be coming soon. We had no worries. After 2 hours, we received the next update: he’s looking great! His attitude is good and he’s feeling re-energized. We later learned that he took a Clif Shot and rehydrated at the halfway point. We had calculated about 2 ½ to 3 hours for the handcycle. We were right on the money!

When Soulja and Steven came into the transition area, they were both clearly wiped out. Apparently, Steven had physically run with his bike in hand, while pushing Soulja up some of the larger hills. Additionally, the back wheel on the handcycle was sliding out of place, causing a major hazard. They had stopped 3 times to push it back in. Soulja shouted, “I just want to get this over with! I ain’t doin’ this no more!” I was hopeful for an attitude adjustment and we reminded him that he was “Motivation in Motion.” It helped! They refueled with snacks, water, and duct-taped 2-inch thick pads on his hands for pushing and braking on the skateboard.

Onto the skateboard portion, since Steven was so wiped out, I decided to run alongside Soulja at the last moment. It’s a good thing, because it took a team of us to keep Soulja going. Steve carried him on his back through the 100-meter transition area and down a set of stairs before Soulja plopped onto his skateboard. Immediately, Soulja started rolling faster than we could run! I could tell he was back to having fun. Out of Riverside Park, up 72nd Street, past Columbus Avenue, the course was lined with New York supporters chanting, “GO SOULJA!” He began to smile. This was a relief, considering the challenges he faced on the bike. By this time, I knew he would finish, and I think he knew, too.

In Central Park, he zoomed past fellow competitors on the downhills, and they would zip past him on the uphills. People stared at him. One leisure cyclist barely missed smashing into me because of it. I asked Soulja if he wanted a push. He had not asked for any physical assistance during his entire training regiment or anytime during the race. He was always asserting his independence, to the point of frustration. He politely said, “I’ll tell you when I want a push.” This was progress, as he acknowledged that he would be requesting one soon. He needed it. Up the hill he went and finally requested the “push.” He loved it. It was a welcome relief for his short arm, which was going numb from the pressure of leaning on the skateboard. Soon, he realized the “push” was so helpful, and he requested it more frequently. I ran at top speed on the downhills and pushed him on many uphills. It was an unexpected anaerobic 10K for me! Steve simply hung on.

Around the Central Park, he raced. He had to come to a complete stop at the water breaks, as they were mostly downhill, and the skateboard couldn’t roll past slowly enough to get water. He accidentally poured a sports drink on his head and laughed at the stickiness. He only had a ½ mile to finish. The padding fell off. That was his brake. He rolled downhill and took a wrong turn. Luckily, some onlookers caught him, and turned him back onto the course.

We waited for Steven to catch up and we all ran or rolled across the finish line to a massive line of screaming fans. This was the first time I had witnessed Soulja show unguarded emotion in the form of complete elation and satisfaction. In addition to the thousands of fans, his mother greeted him to a “Big Momma” bear hug at the finish line. New York’s new triathlon hero had completed the triathlon! Soulja became the first quadruple amputee in the history of the sport to complete a triathlon. He aspires to take his “street office” to an “indoor office” by December 31, 2007, be a motivational speaker for kids, and make money with his rap music record label, Never Jealous Records. So next time you don’t feel tall enough, skinny enough, fit enough, rich enough, experienced enough, or just plain good enough to try something, so what! Figure it out! If Soulja can make it happen, I know you can! Let Soulja give you what you need: motivation in motion!


Susie Gallucci (Susie@SusieGallucci.com) is a former professional triathlete/US Marine and 2012 Olympic Hopeful in the 10K Open Water swim. Susie is a coach and personal trainer and is available for speaking (www.SusieGallucci.com). In 2009, she will swim the English Channel to support CAF. Her motivational children’s book series, the iCanClan (www.iCanClan.com), features an amputee, Believe, as the main character.