The Extra Mile

My Journey Late in Life as a Triathlete – Setbacks and Triumphs

A Little Blip in the Road

by | Jun 3, 2017 | Recovery | 0 comments

So far, 2021 has been an extraordinarily challenging year for my family and me. Surprisingly, it has seemed more difficult than in 2017 when I was almost killed in a bike crash and suffered a fractured C1 vertebra, among other things. From my wife Sandra’s breast cancer diagnosis, surgery, and treatment to being forced to replace our kitchen cabinets, countertop, kitchen and hallway floor, and front door due to a dishwasher water leak to going through the college admissions process and ultimately sending our daughter off to college and dealing with her absence from our lives. It has also been physically challenging for me to train without pain. I have suffered from Achilles issues in both ankles since a hilly half marathon in November of last year. One side healed, and the other flared up just in time to pick up the slack and make sure I couldn’t do much running for the year. The healed side flared up about a week before the race, running off the bike after doing my longest ride ever of 117 miles.

Going into the race, I felt like I could do well on the swim and the bike but didn’t have much hope for the run. Even at a week out, I was still feeling pain in my left Achilles and was worried about it just being inflamed for the whole marathon. I had done Timberman 70.3 5 weeks before the race and struggled on the run after mile 6. I had twinges of pain throughout and just felt like my run fitness was terrible. I also remember towards the end of the swim, thinking, “how the hell am I going to do twice this distance.” I did it in 33 minutes, which is good for me, but I felt like it took a whole lot of effort.

The couple we had arranged to stay with (Holly & Scott) were driving down and, getting there a day ahead of us, had offered to take my bike and gear down. So I dropped my bike and gear off with them on Tuesday night. A couple of hours later, I got a phone call from Holly, and my first thought was, “Oh, maybe they forgot something, and I’ll need to stop by their house to grab it.” If only – it turns out our VRBO was canceled with less than 24hrs notice, and we were now faced with trying to get a new place to stay. VRBO told Holly they would find a comparable place or put them up in a hotel, but they ultimately proved useless. We found a house on Airbnb and booked it. My wife also posted to the Facebook Chattanooga group, and we received many offers of help there. Our flight down and rental car pickup went well. Later that day, we met up with one of my training partners (Bryon) for the last three years and his wife (Bridget). The six of us managed all the pre-race rituals leading up to race day.

For race week, I limited myself to just a one-hour run and a relatively short bike/ROTB. I kept my activity level pretty low other than the 1.5 mile walks down to Athlete Village leading up to the race.

The night before the race, I didn’t get too much sleep and got up six times to pee. I used the Osmo Preload Hydration per-race day, but I didn’t retain much with all the times I had to get up during the night. I got up before my alarm went off at 4 am and started the ritual of eating 4 cups of applesauce mixed with a scoop of protein powder. Sandra joined me with a smaller sympathy bowl of the same mixture and declared that it tasted good. I guess it does, if you don’t have to scarf down 4 cups of it. Feeling pretty bloated, dealing with the nagging feeling that I forgot something in my bike and run bags or put run stuff in my bike bag and vice versa, we set off for the village around 5:15 am. The plan was to be on the bus to the swim start by 6 am. We all pumped up our tires, checked our bags, and made it on the bus in time – mission accomplished.

After figuring out where to drop off my morning bag, I found my spot in the 1-1:10 pace. While waiting, the guy behind me commented on how awesome my checkered flag flip flops were and I discovered we shared the same taste in Family Dollar flip flops. I got to hug Sandra before going down the chute and then I finally got to the jumping point off the dock. After two and half years of waiting, I was finally ready to race again.

I jumped in, popped up after what seemed like an eternity, leaned forward, and started pumping my arms. I came upon a few people, but I was swimming by myself for the most part, between the start and three-quarters of the way. At the halfway point, my watch said I was at 27 minutes. I thought to myself, holy crap, this is going to be a fast swim. It got a little congested when I was 100-200 yds out, but I managed not to get held up by people in front of me. Out of the water, I ran all the way to transition and looked at my watch and saw I was around 52 minutes. Wow, I wasn’t expecting to make up time from the halfway point.

Grabbing my bike bag and making it through transition was surprisingly easy. I had everything I needed and didn’t forget anything. The ride out of town was pretty congested with other competitors but overall pretty uneventful. I had plugged in the workout from Best Bike Splits on my 520 to help me stick to my race plan, and everything was going to plan. It was pretty cool to see the fog as we headed into Georgia, but I hoped it would burn off soon. I didn’t want to risk crashing because I couldn’t see or someone couldn’t see me. Because of my weight, I go fast downhill and slow uphill, so here was a lot of passing people on the flats and downhills and getting passed on the uphills. I tried getting enough momentum for some of the rollers, but many of them were too long for that. I also kept reminding myself to stick to the plan and not get caught up in passing people. I also backed off in places because I knew I would end up burning myself out when I got into too many draft zones and needing to push more watts to pass. The smoothness of Hog Jowell Road helped me to relax a bit more and enjoy the ride. I also thought this would be great in the second loop. I saw my wife Sandra and our friend Bridget in Chickamagua cheering me on and thought to myself – “ok, you are almost halfway, and everything is going good, keep it up.”

I slowed down a little on the second loop, and I think it was because the field seemed to spread out a bit more, and I didn’t end up in too many draft zones to force me to pass. There was one point in the rolling part that I played the passing game with a woman who commented when she was passing me uphill, “I don’t know why I keep doing this. you’re going to just bomb past me on the downhill!” I just laughed and agreed, knowing that she would drop me once we made it to the false flats up ahead and sure enough, she did.

At the second to last aid station, I decided to toss one bottle of EFS and lose the extra weight. I still had one bottle in the rear cage, and the between the arm bottle was full. I’m not sure if that was the right decision in retrospect because I didn’t realize I either didn’t pack the right number of gels or left some in transition. I also ended up dropping a gel somewhere after I tossed the bottle. I had no gels with about 1.5 hrs to go and one full bottle of EFS. I couldn’t remember if there was one more aid station, but thankfully, there was, and I grabbed a Maurten gel there. About two miles out from transition, my groin muscles started cramping, and I had to back off to avoid having them seize. I thankfully brought a bottle of HotShot with me and downed that a minute or two after the cramps started. Unfortunately, it didn’t do the trick. I kept having to back off to prevent the cramps from locking my legs up.

I completed the bike with a time of 05:54:50. Best Bike Splits had me doing it in 05:48:57. Not bad – I made it within 6 minutes of BBS. Luckily, my legs didn’t lock up getting off the bike like in Ironman Canada 2018. The transition went well again, and I got one of the volunteers to spray my neck with sunscreen. He also complimented me on my choice of shoes. He was wearing Saucony Endorphines as well. My choice of footwear on race day was a hit with everyone. LOL

I took a quick detour at the portalets, and I was off for the run. I was hopeful that my achilles would let me finish the race without too much pain. I saw Sandra waiting for me as I rounded the corner downhill to Riverfront Parkway. She told me how awesome I was doing and how Elliot, my coach, was so proud of me. I started to think about the run and how I needed to have a flawless run if I wanted to crack top 20 in my age group. My race goal was to finish in the top 20 in my age group and come in under 12 hours. Then my Achilles began to twinge with pain sporadically. As I was coming up a hill on RiverFront Parkway, some announcer commented on the need to use sunscreen, and then saw me and said I had done a great job covering myself. My face must have been pasty white from the stuff because my beard tends to make it stand out.

For the first two miles, I looked at my watch and thought, “you’re going to fast, slow down.” I was bouncing between a 8:50 and 9:10 pace. I was also going downhill, so I figured I was ok. I walked through each aid station as planned and managed only to feel twinges of pain in my Achilles occasionally. Everything was going well. Between mile five and six, a guy struck up a conversation with me about the race, and we shared stories of how we got started and different races. He shared that he had only done two sprint triathlons before this race. I let him know he was crazy, but was doing an amazing job in his first Ironman. We ran together for a couple of miles and separated somewhere around the hills on Barton Ave. At this point, I noticed that I felt no pain in my Achilles, and I was able to keep running up Barton.

In talking with my coach Elliot the night before, the goal was to not walk on the run except for the aid stations. So far, I was keeping true to that. Then I got to the footbridge, and my calves started cramped. I resigned myself to walk a little up the footbridge to keep the cramps at bay. Once I crested the middle of the bridge, I started running again and put on a good face when I passed Sandra and Bridget at the halfway point on the run. When I got out of eyesight from them, my claves betrayed me and my feet were turning inward or outward, and it was like I was running on club feet. The same thing happened to me in Ironman Arizona 2017. I thought to myself, “shit, there goes all three of your goals.” Now the goal was to figure out how to get running again. The drill now was run until your feet start twisting, walk it out and start the whole thing all over again. I did this for about 3 miles because the Hotshot I put in my special needs bag had no effect, and I left the other one I brought in my transition run bag. About three miles into the run, I started putting ice under my hat and had a brain freeze when I had it towards the front of my cap. I had the brilliant idea that maybe if I gave myself a brain freeze, it would force my brain to pay attention to that, and the cramps would go away. It seemed to work for about a quarter of a mile, and then the cramps came back.

Then somewhere around mile 16, the cramps subsided, and I could run again. At this point, I was in somewhat of a daze, and I started feeling somewhat sleepy, not just tired but sleepy. It lasted for about two miles, and then I started cramping again, and I resumed the run/walk dance. I decided at his point it was time to try taking in red bull. In 2018 at Ironman Canada, I thought I was done after the bike, but the combination of red bull and getting out of the sun, (a good part of the run was on a trail in the woods at Whistler), saved my race. For some reason, I didn’t get any red bull at mile 20 as I planned. Instead, I started taking it at mile 21 and immediately felt its effects. From then on, I only walked at the aid stations and for one steeper section of a hill. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed by the run. But it’s going to be a massive motivator for Lake Placid next year.

Ultimately, I finished the run 5 minutes and 15 seconds faster than my best IM marathon with a 4:44:29. To my surprise, I reached my goals of sub 12 hours with an 11:44:48, and I came in 16th for my age group. I set PRs for each leg of the race and finished my fourth full Ironman.

I couldn’t have done any of this without the support of my wife Sandra. I am amazed by how strong she is with all she has faced in the past 14 months. I am lucky to have her in my life.

Spending the week with the other Northeast Multisport members made racing much more enjoyable. It was great seeing other members on the Zoot Team out there racing and the Zoot Team member that fist-bumped me each time I came down Barton.

Thank you, Bryon, Bridget, Holly, and Scott for a great week. Congratulations to Bryon, Holly, and Scott on becoming an Ironman again. Thank you to Bryon, Meredith, and Rachel for putting up with me for the last two years of training together. And to Elliot Kawaoka, my coach, thank you for helping me manage my Achilles issues and training me to PR in each leg of this race.

Now it’s back to the daily grind. I really miss having people yell at me all day about how awesome I am. Chattanooga is a great place to race.

I had a difficult night’s sleep the night before last.  I woke up at midnight pretty uncomfortable and agitated. I had to go to the bathroom, but trying to go back to sleep, even though I relieved myself, just wasn’t happening.  I felt like I had restless leg syndrome, the collar was choking me and I had muscle pains in my neck, shoulder and shoulder blades. I decided to take a dose of Oxycodone to see if that would relieve some of my symptoms and then fell asleep 15-20 minutes later.

My Bed for my First Week Home – Sans the Pillow

At 3 am, I awoke to find that one of the straps on my neck brace had come loose.  I was staring straight up at the ceiling, so my first thought was, “whew, no damage done.” Then I start thinking, “crap, how do I know that I didn’t move all over the place while I was asleep.” I know I typically move quite a bit while sleeping and despite the injury restricting my movement while sleeping, I know this still happens.

On my third night home, before getting a hospital bed, I was in our regular bed with a pillow, and I found myself turned over on my belly hugging my pillow.  That was my normal sleeping position before all this happened. I got freaked out and jumped back into the lawn chair I had been sleeping in since I had come home.

So, I tightened my brace, grabbed my phone and synced my Garmin Vivofit to see what it recorded for my sleep.  I use the Vivofit to get an idea of how much sleep I am getting and how restless my sleep was.   I checked out Garmin Connect when it was done, and I had a pretty fitful sleep between falling asleep and waking up at 3 am.  So any chance of me going back to sleep has now gone out the window. Sandra is upstairs in bed sleeping and I am alone downstairs, so I don’t have anyone to talk to about this.  My best bet is to get my mind off this and do some work.  Up until this point, I am only able to work a couple of hours a day before the pain of sitting in a chair gets to me. Early mornings have been the best for this so far, so I get to work on an email newsletter for a customer.

When Sandra wakes up, I tell her what happened and ask her to go through some of the neurological physical tests that I remembered doing at the hospital and doctor’s office.  Everything appeared to be ok, so I was hoping I dodged a bullet. Although I felt kind of funky walking up and down stairs, I chalked that up to being anxious about what happened.  The rest of the morning was uneventful.  My parents came up from Georgia the other day and were here for breakfast. Sandra had to go to work for a couple of hours and my parents, and I decided to go for a walk shortly after she left.

We did a fairly long and slow walk around our neighborhood and a couple behind us.  I felt pretty good, and it was getting my mind off of things.  A few minutes after we got back, I started feeling weird.  My left ear felt warm and kind of numb.  Then, that feeling moved down to the rest of my left side.  The rest of my left side didn’t feel as much numb as weak.  It is hard to describe because it was very slight and I had to think about it to notice it.  I tried to slough it off and lied down thinking I was just tired from the walk.  Then, it got a little more pronounced, and the worrying started to set in.  My parents kept asking me if there was anything they could do for me and I said no not knowing what they could do for me.  I decided to call my wife and ask her what she thought might help put my mind at ease.  I got her on the phone at work, and she started rattling off people to call; the neurosurgeons at Lahey, the Nurse Practitioner, the on-call person at Lahey.  I started thinking, “I have no idea who the neurosurgeons at Lahey are. I only met them after I woke up and one other time when they did a physical neuro test in the ICU.  Given our experience calling people for info at Lahey since discharge, I think to myself, “I have no interest in doing that in my current state of mind.” I then decided to call the nurse practitioner’s office, but I couldn’t remember her name. I found the paperwork after some help from my wife on the phone and called the NPs office.  I explained my situation and that I was looking for some direction as to what I should do. The person I spoke to ran through some quick stroke-like test, which I passed, but she told me that the NP wanted me to go to the emergency room.

As luck would have it, my truck has no gas.  So my dad and I start our journey to the emergency room looking for a place to get gas.  Our first stop is the Mobile around the corner from where I live, but all the pumps are being used and we set off to find another gas station.  We get off the first exit I know where there are gas stations, but I had forgotten that that road has construction and we’re met with gridlock at the end of the ramp. I guide my dad through the area to get to the next gas station, and he puts some gas in my truck.  Sandra texted me that she was at St. Joseph’s emergency room and I let her know that we were still getting gas.  I ask her to get the ball rolling for me in the emergency room, so they are ready and waiting for me.

Finally, thirty minutes after leaving home, my dad and I get to St. Joseph’s.  I get checked in immediately.  The triage nurse asks me why I am there and then realizes that I was there three weeks ago for my accident.  I get wheeled into a room and get into a hospital bed. My journey for the rest of the day begins here.  A doctor and nurse come in and start assessing my condition.  As it turns out, the doctor on duty was the same doctor that treated me when I was there three weeks ago. She says she is amazed at how good I look. Apparently, my face looked like it was split in half and splayed open.  Because there was so much blood, I was having a hard time breathing, so they had to intubate me.  She said they didn’t know what caused the crash and that the EMTs didn’t have much info regarding what caused the crash.  I told her what the eyewitness had told me and then we got back to why I was there today.  When we finish talking, I realize I hadn’t thanked her yet and begin to thank her for all she did to save my life.   She begins the neuro test and asks me about what I am experiencing.  I pass the neuro tests, and she lets me know that they are going to have an MRI done of my head and neck to make sure they aren’t missing anything even though I passed the physical neuro tests.

While I am waiting for the MRI, I get an IV put in, which I thought I was done with for at least the near future. The doctor comes back in and explains what they are going to do next, and I thank her again for all she did for me. I let her know that I don’t remember anything from our last encounter.  She said I was pretty agitated and had a hard time that day, but that I looked so much better today.  I let her know that I’ll need something for the MRI because I get claustrophobic in there.  She orders an Ativan for me, and I am off for my MRI.

I have to wait a while for my turn in the machine but the MRI tech is a triathlete, and we start talking about races, bikes, and Northeast Multisport.  I get through my time in the MRI tube without incident, and for some reason, this experience was not nearly as bad as my other experiences with MRI machines.  Either the Ativan chilled me out more than normal, or this machine was just not as loud as the others.  Sandra and my dad were waiting for me in the room when I got back.

I pass the MRI exam with flying colors.  My doctor had to leave at the end of her shift to catch a plane, so she passed all the information on to the next doctor. He would be conferring with the neurologists at St. Joseph’s who were conferring with the neurologist at Lahey.  Initially, they thought they would discharge me after the MRI, but then decided they should run a CTA with contrast on my neck and head to make sure they weren’t missing anything that could be contributing to my symptoms. As an added bonus, the contrast injection for the CTA required a second larger IV tube.  This one hurt no matter how I held my arm.

While I’m waiting to have my CTA done, there is a stroke code called, and everyone jumps on treating the patient.  So, I end up waiting a bit before I can get my CTA done, which is fine.  I got to talk to Sandra and my dad for a while.  The doctor went out to talk to my wife earlier about how good I looked, and Sandra recounted their conversation.  The girl who does the med check when you’re admitted came by to ask if I was the one who was involved in the bike accident several weeks ago in Merrimack.  I let her know that was indeed me.  She said she had read about me in the Merrimack forum and was worried for me.  She said I looked great and said she would keep an eye out for me in the future on the roads when I am back riding again. She also engaged some with Sandra and my dad.

My Best Blood Pressure Reading

Sandra and my dad noticed my blood pressure cuff was still trying to read my BP despite having been removed 15 minutes earlier when they put the new IV line in. They also noticed my oxygen level was low and started to wonder what theirs would read. We then passed around the finger sensor to see what everyone’s would read.  I told them they were messing with my medical history.  My dad and I were close to the same and Sandra, of course, had an initial reading of 100%.  I suggested they attach the electrodes to mess with those readings by dividing the four evenly between the two of them.

The CTA itself was relatively quick, and I passed that test as well.  I asked the doctor why I could have been experiencing my symptoms.  He said they could have been referred symptoms from post-concussion syndrome.  He added that I shouldn’t ignore them as such because it could always be something else that has developed post injury.  Awesome!

The med girl stopped by again to say goodbye and wish us well.  She reminded me that she would be on the lookout for me in her blue car. She also told me that she would honk whenever she sees me out on the roads.

I get my IVs taken out and get out of bed to start getting dressed to get the hell out of here.  The nurse comments on my eagerness to get up and dressed and lets me know that I have some electrodes still attached to my chest, but there is no charge for taking those home.  I go home with Sandra, and my dad follows in my truck.

That night is probably the best sleep I have had since I have come home from the hospital.  I slept from 10:30 pm to 5 am and did not take any meds to help me sleep. My Garmin data showed that I had a restful sleep and didn’t get up during the night. Woohoo!