The Extra Mile

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

Will It Blend?

by | May 29, 2017 | Bike Accident, 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.

So far, the most difficult injury, from my bike accident, to deal with has been my tongue laceration.  My C1 fracture is pretty disturbing in itself, especially when doing a Google search and finding all the scary shit about it online.  But it is managed by wearing a neck brace and taking pain meds. The discomfort of wearing it isn’t top of mind all day long.  My tongue, however, is a different story. The swelling has gone down quite a bit since I was in the hospital, but I still have a laceration flap that interferes with eating and talking.  As a result, I’ve been on a mostly liquid diet since I woke up nearly two weeks ago.  I have gradually been able to eat soft food the last couple of days, but my jaw hurts when chewing – not to mention my exposed tooth nub and other sore teeth make biting and chewing an adventure.

My New Best Friend

On the positive side, I’ve been able to shed around 10 pounds with little effort mentally and physically.  Oddly enough, Sandra, my wife, and I went to see a registered dietitian about two months ago to get our resting metabolic rate measured and get some advice on losing some weight.  My resting metabolic rate was 1845 and armed with that info; I started counting calories and monitoring macronutrients.  Foolishly, we started doing this a week before going away on a ski weekend with friends, and I felt horrible while trying to lower my caloric intake.  As a result, I was a joy to be around. Now the suffering is a different sort, and lack of calories isn’t as mood altering as before.

On the negative side, it feels like this thing is never going to heal.  The first couple of days, it seemed like my tongue was three times its size.  When the plastic surgeon initially looked at my tongue, I couldn’t even manage to stick it out.  He had to use a tongue depressor to get a look at the laceration.  He and other doctors told me they couldn’t stitch it back up because of the number of bacteria in the human mouth and that it had been over 24 hours.  The risk of infection was too great. I would just have to let it heal.  I was a bit skeptical then, as I am now that it would ever get close to being remotely in the condition it once was.

Then again, both positively and negatively, my tongue was the only reason I got to stay in the hospital an extra day.  When the doctors came in to do their rounds on Monday morning (two days after my accident and one day after waking up), they told me I was about ready to go home, that I was doing really well.  Mind you, at that point in time; I still had my catheter in, was taking in fluids via an IV, and couldn’t swallow or speak very well.  My pain meds were administered via IV because I could barely swallow.  I had taken a couple of small pills with a bit of a struggle the night before, so therefore I must be ready to leave.  When I told the doctor that was leading the rounds that I still couldn’t swallow, the asshole patted me on the shoulder and told me everything would be OK.  The new morning nurse came in shortly after she asked me if I had any clothes here.  I told her I had nothing and she launched into telling she would contact my wife and have her bring clothes for me to go home in.

A little while later she came in again to give me pills, and I apparently made a face.  She asked what was the matter and I told her I couldn’t swallow.  She said she was told I was able to take pills the night before and if I can’t take these pills how can I go home. I managed to get the pill down.

The nurse made a few passive aggressive statements throughout the rest of the morning, and it finally came to a head when the monitor I was hooked up to started ringing due to my blood pressure.  My blood pressure had skyrocketed due to me being royally pissed off about how I was being treated up to that point that day.   I was also a bit uncomfortable, to say the least.  She came in only after we rang the call button and started fussing with my blood pressure collar. They had previously ignored my nurse calls when I took the cuff off, and the alarms started sounding.  But this time it was a big deal.  She infuriated me even more, and I told her to get the fuck away from me and get the doctor because I was leaving.  I figured they were going to discharge me before I was ready, so I might as well take control and get the hell out of there on my terms. She kept trying to put the cuff on me, and I told her again to get away from me and get the doctor.

She left, and one of the trauma team residents came in shortly after to find out what was going on.  Luckily it wasn’t the same condescending asshole that patted me on the shoulder earlier.  This guy pretended to be interested in what was wrong and why I wanted to leave, blah blah blah. He said he was part of the team that treated me when I arrived and that he didn’t think I was ready to leave.  I’m thinking to myself,  then how about you guys get on the same page about this and why isn’t anyone advocating for me on this. He tried asking me what I wanted, and I was pretty wound up so I basically said I couldn’t answer that.  In retrospect, what I wanted was to be treated for my injuries so that I would fully recover from this.  Sandra spoke up and said I should have a different nurse, and that prompted me to ask to be moved out of the ICU.  It was during this little meeting that the plastic surgeon came in to look at my tongue, so he caught a little bit of the conversation.  He checked me out and said we would have to let the tongue heal on its own and he thought it likely that I would be in the hospital until Friday; it was Monday.  More on the rest in the hospital later.

Now, back to why I titled the post, Will it Blend.  Hopefully, Blendtec, hasn’t trademarked that phrase.  The running joke here is, “Can we blend that?” or  “You can have some too, if we can blend it.”  Sandra tried to blend some chicken soup that someone made for us my first night back.  That didn’t go over so well, mostly due to the swelling in my tongue.  But I have been craving some foods that both my Tri Coach and the RD wouldn’t want me to eat in the first place.  For example, could you blend:

  • an Italian Sub
  • pizza
  • pulled pork
  • a steak and cheese sub
  • veal parmesan
  • corn on the cobb

I also wanted popcorn, but the thought of blending that didn’t cross my mind.  Friends have also come over to have dinner with us and have jokingly suggested that they could blend what they brought so I could enjoy the food with them.  Truth be told, I was just happy to be with them.

The head of plastic surgery at the Lahey clinic suggested that I use a water pick to blast away the dead cells and massage the tongue.  So hopefully, the week of blasting my laceration with the water pick has paid off.  I still don’t see how this will heal, so there is no flap.  Keep your fingers crossed that this works.

Onward and Upward!