More (small) challenges

Three trips to the doctors this month have delivered all kinds of profound diagnoses.

Regarding the shoulder issue I told you about recently: Six weeks of physical therapy proved remarkably helpful in reducing pain and returning my ability to make it through a swim workout. Yet an occasion ache remains and certain movements continue to hurt. This prompted my orthopedist, Dr. Michael Repine, to schedule an MRI. That test showed a two centimeter tear in my labrum, the topmost tendon of the rotator cuff.

The good news is that it can be fixed. The only option to do so, as supported by Dr. Sharon Wetherall, is a complete detachment and reattachment of the labrum.

The bad news is that recovery time is four to six months for normal daily activity function. A year before full strength is returned.

The second piece of medical news started off a positive note. Since I began running on a prosthesis sixteen years ago, Stumpie has suffered from what I’ve come to consider a circulation issue, causing me to stop and dangle and/or reboot to subdue the pain and restore blood-flow. Though four different prosthetists have built me run legs over the years, the pain has been relatively consistent and I’ve always presumed the problem was some sort of fit issue; perhaps Stumpie is oddly shaped or constructed and, hence, a difficult fit…or something.

My current prosthetist, Erik Shaffer of A Step Ahead Prosthetics and Orthotics, proposed the problem could be vascular insufficiency. No one, professional or otherwise, had ever mentioned this possibility, nor had the thought ever crossed my mind.

Sharon highly recommended Dr. Nelson Mozia for a consult. He prescribed a CT angiogram to inspect the integrity the veins and arteries in Stumpie. The initial results were just what I was hoping for: both the veins and arteries are severely occluded. This is good news because we’ve finally found the cause, which means we can do something about it!

Well, after Dr. Mozio consulted with an interventional radiologist and a CT radiologist, they concluded that the occlusions were so severe and widespread that a fix was out of the question. Angioplasty will not work due to the severity and a surgical procedure could result in an above knee amputation if it were to go awry. I ruled that one out immediately.

The one non-surgical option is a blood-thinning medication called Plavix which might help much needed oxygen reach those little Stumpie muscles. In the short term I’ve opted to give this a go. I’m told it takes ten days for full effect—on Sunday’s 23 mile run, day 7 of the medication, I dangled and rebooted many times. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see…

In the meantime, I’ll be getting a second opinion.

The final trip to the doc was not for me but for the family doctor—Sharon. The ultrasound showed that there is indeed an embryo growing in her womb! Unquestionably the biggest challenge of the three.

Love Thy Competition

Sunday morning at 7AM I sat on the 95th Street pier jutting out in to the Hudson River, thinking I knew how the NYC Triathlon/ParaTriathlon National Championship was about to unfold. The only one-legged man to ever beat me in a triathlon was sitting 15 feet to my right, five years older than he was when we last raced. That’s only meaningful because that makes him 50, presumably a bit slower that he used to be. However, his comment just minutes before we entered the water, strategically placed perhaps, that he just won the 50-54 age-group (able-bodied) at Brazil’s National Championships left me thinking he hasn’t lost too much.

Historically, he’s always buried in the swim and it’s a flip who’d beat who on the bike and run. This year I figured swimming with the current would deflate his lead some and perhaps I could better him on both the bike and run and we’d have an exciting sprint to the finish.

My 16:34 swim was solid and I came out not too far behind him, in stride with Jeff Glasbrenner and just a few seconds in front of J.P. Theberge, who’s been creeping closer and closer to my finish times over the past several years. For the first time in our many matchups, I was in transition along side Rivaldo, who took longer than I would expect to get out on the bike.

As I’m leaving T1, my aero bottle was all but falling out of its holder, which required me to stop and waste about 30 extremely frustrating seconds trying to fix it. I knew if I didn’t I might potentially suffer far worse losses from dehydration. In the meantime Rivaldo pulled away and both J.P. and Jeff joined me simultaneously in the chase. This was shaping up to be an exciting race. Never before have the first two, never mind the first four BKs, been so close to each other in any world-class triathlon, ever.

In the 12 miles that took us out to Yonkers, I relinquished about five seconds to Rivaldo. After the turnaround I didn’t see J.P. coming the other way, but presumed I had been opening up the gap as he has yet to match me on the bike. No sooner do I wonder just how far back he is, when he passes me! I was sincerely impressed and sincerely appreciate the competition. Rivaldo remained in our sites as the two of us exchanged leads over the next few miles.

Then he opened up a gap that kept getting bigger. His slightly inefficient body English told me he was working very hard, harder than me, it seemed. I didn’t have too much more power to provide and I opted to let him go and chase both him Rivaldo down on the run, which has been pretty good to me lately.

I entered transition after a 1:08:06 ride (not my fastest nor my slowest of my six consecutive NYC Tri’s) as JP exited and was out about five seconds behind Rivaldo when crossing the T2 exit mat (like in T1, he wasn’t so speedy in T2). I passed him before too long and kept up the best pace I could—not a terribly fast one but the best I could muster. Even on 72nd St, where athletes could see a good stretch in front of them, I didn’t see JP and wondered just how fast the guy was running!

Along that stretch the four inch long rubber tread on my run prosthesis became nearly completely unglued and was flapping underfoot, not tripping me but on every step it would drag across the pavement, and occasionally I’d step on it as it folded underneath, leaving me terribly frustrated. Beside the course I saw my prosthetist and Amy Winters, our Team A Steap Ahead manager, about a mile later. I barked out my issue hoping they might have an answer. A couple minutes later Amy pulled up next to me on her mountain bike, pulled a couple hair bands out of her ponytail and temporarily secured my tread. That only took 15-20 seconds and I was right back in the hunt. (I acknowledge that this would be considered “outside assistance,” reason for disqualification under USA Triathlon rules, I believe. If anyone reports me, so be it.)

Some of you might recall that in T2 of the last triathlon I raced, I forgot to switch my bike liner for a fresh run liner and PR’d the latter discipline. This gave me all the reason I needed to purposefully forgo the liner change in pursuit of J.P. Whether or not replacing it would have made a difference I really don’t know, but the leg got a bit lose and Stumpy began to moan about Mile 3, and I didn’t stop until Mile 4 for a reboot. Nice big pink open blister looked up at me. With the liner and leg back on securely I got back at it. By Mile 5 I had to stop momentarily for a leg dangle as both the blister and gimp-side calf cramp called for it. I hadn’t seen J.P. in a couple of the longer stretches I could see in Central Park and all but bowed out of the quest for first. Just then Rivaldo passed me, which gave me all the motivation I needed to tough out that last mile as fast as I could.

My 46:27 run (again, I’ve gone both faster and slower here…and I was expecting something faster) was almost two minutes slower than J.P. and I crossed the line 20 seconds ahead of Rivaldo.

The close battle with my former nemesis—seems I’ve got a new one now—was very much expected. Getting schooled by J.P. was a little bit of a surprise, but not totally. The man’s been strong since he entered the scene several years ago and has been getting faster every race. And every ear I hear “J.P.’s fit and looking fast this year.” I believe we last raced in 2007 when I got him by a 13 minutes.

So, all due respect Champ, but it wasn’t you I was worried about. I can honestly say that I’m impressed as hell by your commitment and dedication to training—with a real job and three kids—with the goal of taking that top spot. Furthermore, I appreciate the fire you’ve stoked not only under me but also my wife who has just granted me two hours of training each day to catch you at Worlds on September 12!

PS - I’d like to thank Affinia Hotels for providing phenomenal accomodations for my family over the weekend.

Back to The Rock

San Francisco is known to have a few free-spirited citizens. It’s known for a notorious former federal penitentiary. It’s known for steep hills. My fellow triathlon teammates from Team A Step Ahead had the pleasure of experiencing all three and more this weekend when we tackled the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon.

I had two goals at this year’s race, primarily to win the physically challenged division and to better my 2003 time of three hours, two minutes. Nine guys with parts missing lined up this year—that’s seven more than when I raced there six years prior. (Legendary One-Armed Willie Steward being the hold-over.) .

What makes this race a “check list” event with highly sought after slots are not the unique experiences of the city itself but that of the race logistics. Athletes begin their journey by climbing onto a bus near the finish line for a trip to the ferry dock. There the wet-suit clad endurance-junkies board the ferry for a trip out to Alcatraz Island. Parked a few hundred feet off The Rock, upon completion of “Stars ‘n Stripes,” 1800 athletes receive the word and leap off the deck—at three separate launching points—within a six minute span and begin their 1.5 mile swim to the beach just west of Marina Green. Check out these swim pics, http://bit.ly/14dVHH.

Before the race even began I added a new item to my check list with a simultaneous check: en route back from registration to our hotel on our race bikes, Team A Step Ahead found itself entering an intersection simultaneously with 30 or so nude cyclists! Mostly not-so-fit men. Like a train wreck, it was painful to watch yet held our attention. Teammate Jeff Glasbrenner, from Little Rock, AR, claims the boys back home might not believe him.

Training volume as of late ain’t what it used to be, so I was relying on experience and better prostheses from A Step Ahead Prosthetics and Orthotics to attain the day’s goals. Pool time has been a notch above bare minimum; I’ve managed two to four swims a month this calendar year, which got me about what I was hoping for: 2003 swim time was 45 minutes;  2009, 46 minutes.  Overall Swim Rank: 665. A tad behind schedule while Jeff, a fellow below-knee (BK) amputee, was already ahead of me by three minutes. BK teammate and national marathon record holder Tommy Koehler came out of the water right behind me and a nice little race was heating up.

Felt pretty good on the three-quarter mile run to transition and looked forward to the next discipline. No question if I was going to beat Tommy and catch Jeff, I’d need to lay it down on the bike. I’ve managed to get in reasonable riding time between power-developing efforts pulling Jack and Luke in the bike trailer and good cardio on the “Expresso” stationary bike at the YMCA while the Y’s child-watch staff entertained the boys.

I caught Jeff about half way through the 18-mile ride and put time on Tommy in the process. 2003: 55 minutes. 2009: 55 minutes. Rank: 62.

I set off onto the eight-mile run with limited confidence that I’d hold off my chasers. Unlike the ‘03 race, I had little to no debilitating gut cramps and only minor prosthetic problems. I rebooted the leg within the first mile only because I had donned it somewhat sloppily in transition and opted for a better fit. A challenging trail climb led to a fast, paved descent before we hit the quarter-mile beach sand section approaching the turn-around at Mile 4. That deep, soft sand was as energy-sucking as I remembered. Upon heading in the reverse direction I saw that neither Jeff, Tommy, nor Andy May (last year’s gimpy champion), nor any other in our group were imminently on my tail. Applying the “out of sight, out of mind” rationale (it’s psychologically much easier to catch your prey if you can see them), I laid it down as hard as I could to reach the infamous “sand ladder.” Once at the base of the 400 steps up a steep sand/log climb, I knew I had at least four minutes on everyone.

From the top of that section, it was only a few hundred more feet to crest of the hill before a long descent down the steep trail that we’d ascended earlier. Before heading down I rebooted to relieve Stumpie of the present discomfort, which made the funky footing required a bit easier to control. I kept the heat on when I reached the flats with just two miles to go and both goals in mind: first and faster.

The race also boasts one of the largest spectator counts in all of triathlon and the cheers we all welcomed along that last mile grew and grew as we approached the 100-meter grass landing to the finish arch. With half the chute behind me a smile broke out when I saw 2:53 on the clock and confirmed that age ain’t got the best of me just yet! Overall finish rank: 220th and 29th of 253 in the 40-44s.

And the weekend memories still weren’t quite complete. Without unnecessary details to the reader, I won’t soon forget the scorpion bowl race, the B.O of a certain toothless female cabbie or the big blue bunny drag-queen humping someone’s detached leg.

Check out this link for a local broadcast plugging some of the challenged athletes: http://tinyurl.com/n5cmtn