The Journey:
This, my 3rd year of participation in Danskin was to be my stellar year. After all last year I cut my first year’s time by 19 minutes and finished just under 2 hours. My plan was to train with RTB for an entire winter and spring and finish four or more triathlons in 2008.
“You will never run again but swimming is good exercise” were the words from my Orthopedic physician’s mouth early in December. I would never have guessed that a slight pain in my left groin would have such enormous impact on my life. As a family nurse practitioner I should have known I was at risk for Osteo necrosis also known as Avascular necrosis, (dead bone from lack of circulation), in my hips. It had never occurred to me the medication I had taken to reduce brain swelling after removal of a brain tumor in the Fall of 2004 and to help me breathe during my asthma attacks and my 4 month stint of pneumonia over the winter of 2005 would suddenly put me into a wheelchair.
Four days from diagnosis to surgery on my left hip to reduce pressure in the bone and promote new bone growth which would strengthen the femoral head and prevent collapse left me wondering how I was to do Danskin. I would be non-weight bearing as on the left for 3 months with minimal weight bearing on the right until surgery on it in March. Oh, well, I would figure this out later. When registration opened, I signed up.
Let me tell you, wheelchair life stinks. It is such a pleasure to walk and I will never take it for granted again. Every visit to my doctor I asked “when can I swim”. He finally and reluctantly told me the first week of March I could swim if I didn’t put weight on my left leg and if I did not kick. Off to the Renton pool I went in a wheelchair armed with a pull-buoy. I was determined to swim 3 days a week until my next surgery in three weeks.
In the hospital awaiting surgery on my right hip, I mentioned to my doctor I was doing Danskin in August. He turned around, glared and said nothing until I told him at Danskin I could use a walker if I need to, (a little lie?), then he said OK.
Another 2 1/2 months in the wheelchair and I would be walking he said, “this hip isn’t as bad”. Experienced now, I started swimming without asking. When I felt it was safe I took off in my wheelchair for the pool, no kicking. The end of May, he said I could start walking. No physical therapy or anything? Not as easy as I thought. My feet swelled the size of grapefruit and I had knee pain. As a nurse practitioner we often figure out how to get what we want, so I went to a Rheumatologist friend of mine and he ordered physical therapy. I went to a long time PT colleague and friend who helped me get to my goal of finishing Danskin in a safe manner. My thighs had reduced in size by 3 inches and my glutes were non-existent. Muscle atrophy is quick and vicious. I had 13 weeks to train. Physical therapy and Gayle Barnhart’s 12 week plan should do it I thought.
I first got on my bike for a short 7 mile spin the 2nd week of June. I started walking during my half hour lunches at work and actually managed to walk .94 miles by mid June. This was very exciting. I swam yard after yard in the pool twice weekly but the lake had to wait.
I couldn’t train with RTB I told myself. “they are way too advanced in their training than I and I wouldn’t be able to keep up”. I now had to go back to working my three 12 hour shifts a week which interfered also. I couldn’t train with Team Survivor, (the cancer survivor team I also belong to) for the same excuses / reasons I had for RTB. I continued my training in the pool and on my bike, alone and cautiously since too much “pounding” can cause femoral head collapse I was reminded. I figured all I needed to do was be able to complete the swim and bike and I could walk the rest one way or another.
The Event:
As the date for Danskin got nearer I started to get a little panicked. I had managed to get into Lake Meridian twice and each time I had difficulties swimming the distance. I had one more week. I swam in the lake two more times and finally knew I would be fine and in fact may do well.
Saturday morning, “Team Survivor” breakfast, now a 3 year tradition for me is an inspiring and supportive part of the weekend. The Expo’s new location wasn’t convenient or efficient in any way. It got so crowded I exited after purchasing a few souvenirs and off we went to drop off my bike. Security here had changed to but we managed to find our way. Experience helps here too. We looked at the course. Why did they bring the first buoy in so close? I know the course was shortened but wouldn’t it make more sense to shorten the back stretch? It would be crowded around that first turn I thought.
Sunday morning I was real nervous. I was in wave 6. They had changed the waves the cancer survivors would use. Only the “first timers” would be in the 2nd wave this year and the rest of us would be in waves 5 and 6. Had I gone in my age group I would have gone sooner. Oh, well. I arrive, set up transition and immediately took my bike to the mechanic. I needed a “chain keeper” placed since my ride the previous Sunday had “messed” with my chain a bit.
I barely made it to my swim wave in time. Things were moving very fast this year. I edged my way into the side of the group and as we walked into the water I pushed forward a little but was a little unsure of myself. This was a big mistake. As I swam there were arms and legs everywhere. People doing breast stroke and other types of flailing I didn’t recognize but the people were thick as ants on honey. Determined, I kept my head down except for a sight or two and plowed through the chaos. I actually decided to swim around one annoying person. After the first buoy I knew from previous experience it would thin out but sighting would be my enemy. I had planned on sighting on the surf boarders since my vision won’t allow me to see the 2nd buoy. It worked. I actually swam straight but I was a little tired. All the work crashing through all those bodies had taken a toll. As I rounded the 2nd buoy I knew I had to make a very sharp turn but hadn’t turned quite enough. I spotted some fins which told me I was right by a surf boarder; looking up I noticed most everyone else was off to the right. I couldn’t see the exit until I was half way in to shore but I made an adjustment to the right and swam in. No sprint to shore this time but happy I was just to be there.
Walk was my mantra. I was told over and over again, “do not run” by my physical therapist; an occasional skip would be allowed but no running. As I walked to the transition area I realized just how far it is and how long it takes.
I hadn’t practiced transitioning yet but done it before so not problem, right? Rain, plastic bag covers with puddles on top of your gear, chip falling off and a long walk with my bike to the road left me with an 8 minute transition. Must be a record. I heard my son-in-law Brad and my son Paul yelling as I rode out of the area. I couldn’t see them and they weren’t very loud but no matter, I was focused. This was my time to push. I knew I could stand and drive up the Day street ramp. I had practiced it and had done it in the past. Foiled as a person walking along the side of the ramp decided to step out in front of me and mount her bike. Emergency stop and walk to the top mumbling the whole way. Off I went again, down on my bars as fast as I could. “On your left” was my mantra this time. Into the tunnel I was reminded of the Danskin cheer as we all whooped and yelled “you go girl”. The turn around was not problem at all even with the wet roads. I pushed to the end of the bridge, no need to save my legs to run because I can’t. All I have to do is crawl across that line. Disappointment hit as were was told to get off our bikes and walk down the ramp. Someone had crashed and we were told it was too slick to ride. At the bottom got back on and pushed to dismount. Another long walk to my gear. At T2 I heard my family yelling and cheering as I more quickly this time got ready to walk. I saw Patty as I started out and felt encouraged by her support also. I tried to skip but at 55 my skipping days are long gone I think. I would power walk this thing. Hadn’t practiced it because hip pain was my frequent reminder not to “over do it”. It wasn’t hard at all. I stayed focused and had so much fun thanking the volunteers and cheering on all the RTB members passing me one way or another. It was great to be part of such a huge group who even though they didn’t know who I was cheered me on also. We were a presence out there. Many people commented to me about the team since I was walking and they could slow and chat a bit. I never slowed though. Heavy rain just made me laugh with the others next to me. We had it easy, it was the spectators who would be suffering. Erica my daughter came down the road and a quick high five felt good. No hip pain until the hill but now it was all downhill from here. My partner waited for me just like the years before at the bottom of the hill and chugged up it beside me on the sidewalk. At the top I told her to get down to the finish fast if she wants to see it because I would be there soon. I rounded the corner into the “chute” took my Team Survivor shirt our of my race belt and held it over my head as I jogged gently over the grass and across the finish line. I did it. Almost immediately I heard a voice and Erica said, “hi mom”. We found Brad and their boys and then I was told to take out my ear plugs. I had forgotten this little item during T-1 and that is why I couldn’t hear my cheer squad. I found Paul and Vickie and decided quickly I needed some more clothes. I was really wet and now cold. I walked all the way back to transition and changed clothes in a biffy. I joined the others again to get some food and then decided it was time to go before I turned completely to stone.
I think I had done just a little more than I should have but not damage. I completed Danskin a third time. No records but a phenomenal achievement. Two hours and two minutes, a bike pace only .5 mph slower than last year and a 46minute walk. My head is held high.
“There is always next year” is my mantra now. I don’t see my Orthopedist until October but I will announce proudly that I completed Danskin.
Is there another race for this year? I’m not sure. I’m being told to take it easy since it will take up to a year for the drill holes to completely fill and the dead bone to be replaced if it does at all. I am aching to get out there and do it again.
Why do I tri?
Because I am alive and I can. No excuses. Fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis in my spine with collapsed discs, rotator cuff tears, chronic tendonitis in many joints, brain cancer, asthma with bronchiectais and now osteo-necrosis are all little speed bumps in my journey. Giving me motivation and determination but most of all gratitude for who I am and all the people in my life who share this journey with me. Life is good.
This, my 3rd year of participation in Danskin was to be my stellar year. After all last year I cut my first year’s time by 19 minutes and finished just under 2 hours. My plan was to train with RTB for an entire winter and spring and finish four or more triathlons in 2008.
“You will never run again but swimming is good exercise” were the words from my Orthopedic physician’s mouth early in December. I would never have guessed that a slight pain in my left groin would have such enormous impact on my life. As a family nurse practitioner I should have known I was at risk for Osteo necrosis also known as Avascular necrosis, (dead bone from lack of circulation), in my hips. It had never occurred to me the medication I had taken to reduce brain swelling after removal of a brain tumor in the Fall of 2004 and to help me breathe during my asthma attacks and my 4 month stint of pneumonia over the winter of 2005 would suddenly put me into a wheelchair.
Four days from diagnosis to surgery on my left hip to reduce pressure in the bone and promote new bone growth which would strengthen the femoral head and prevent collapse left me wondering how I was to do Danskin. I would be non-weight bearing as on the left for 3 months with minimal weight bearing on the right until surgery on it in March. Oh, well, I would figure this out later. When registration opened, I signed up.
Let me tell you, wheelchair life stinks. It is such a pleasure to walk and I will never take it for granted again. Every visit to my doctor I asked “when can I swim”. He finally and reluctantly told me the first week of March I could swim if I didn’t put weight on my left leg and if I did not kick. Off to the Renton pool I went in a wheelchair armed with a pull-buoy. I was determined to swim 3 days a week until my next surgery in three weeks.
In the hospital awaiting surgery on my right hip, I mentioned to my doctor I was doing Danskin in August. He turned around, glared and said nothing until I told him at Danskin I could use a walker if I need to, (a little lie?), then he said OK.
Another 2 1/2 months in the wheelchair and I would be walking he said, “this hip isn’t as bad”. Experienced now, I started swimming without asking. When I felt it was safe I took off in my wheelchair for the pool, no kicking. The end of May, he said I could start walking. No physical therapy or anything? Not as easy as I thought. My feet swelled the size of grapefruit and I had knee pain. As a nurse practitioner we often figure out how to get what we want, so I went to a Rheumatologist friend of mine and he ordered physical therapy. I went to a long time PT colleague and friend who helped me get to my goal of finishing Danskin in a safe manner. My thighs had reduced in size by 3 inches and my glutes were non-existent. Muscle atrophy is quick and vicious. I had 13 weeks to train. Physical therapy and Gayle Barnhart’s 12 week plan should do it I thought.
I first got on my bike for a short 7 mile spin the 2nd week of June. I started walking during my half hour lunches at work and actually managed to walk .94 miles by mid June. This was very exciting. I swam yard after yard in the pool twice weekly but the lake had to wait.
I couldn’t train with RTB I told myself. “they are way too advanced in their training than I and I wouldn’t be able to keep up”. I now had to go back to working my three 12 hour shifts a week which interfered also. I couldn’t train with Team Survivor, (the cancer survivor team I also belong to) for the same excuses / reasons I had for RTB. I continued my training in the pool and on my bike, alone and cautiously since too much “pounding” can cause femoral head collapse I was reminded. I figured all I needed to do was be able to complete the swim and bike and I could walk the rest one way or another.
The Event:
As the date for Danskin got nearer I started to get a little panicked. I had managed to get into Lake Meridian twice and each time I had difficulties swimming the distance. I had one more week. I swam in the lake two more times and finally knew I would be fine and in fact may do well.
Saturday morning, “Team Survivor” breakfast, now a 3 year tradition for me is an inspiring and supportive part of the weekend. The Expo’s new location wasn’t convenient or efficient in any way. It got so crowded I exited after purchasing a few souvenirs and off we went to drop off my bike. Security here had changed to but we managed to find our way. Experience helps here too. We looked at the course. Why did they bring the first buoy in so close? I know the course was shortened but wouldn’t it make more sense to shorten the back stretch? It would be crowded around that first turn I thought.
Sunday morning I was real nervous. I was in wave 6. They had changed the waves the cancer survivors would use. Only the “first timers” would be in the 2nd wave this year and the rest of us would be in waves 5 and 6. Had I gone in my age group I would have gone sooner. Oh, well. I arrive, set up transition and immediately took my bike to the mechanic. I needed a “chain keeper” placed since my ride the previous Sunday had “messed” with my chain a bit.
I barely made it to my swim wave in time. Things were moving very fast this year. I edged my way into the side of the group and as we walked into the water I pushed forward a little but was a little unsure of myself. This was a big mistake. As I swam there were arms and legs everywhere. People doing breast stroke and other types of flailing I didn’t recognize but the people were thick as ants on honey. Determined, I kept my head down except for a sight or two and plowed through the chaos. I actually decided to swim around one annoying person. After the first buoy I knew from previous experience it would thin out but sighting would be my enemy. I had planned on sighting on the surf boarders since my vision won’t allow me to see the 2nd buoy. It worked. I actually swam straight but I was a little tired. All the work crashing through all those bodies had taken a toll. As I rounded the 2nd buoy I knew I had to make a very sharp turn but hadn’t turned quite enough. I spotted some fins which told me I was right by a surf boarder; looking up I noticed most everyone else was off to the right. I couldn’t see the exit until I was half way in to shore but I made an adjustment to the right and swam in. No sprint to shore this time but happy I was just to be there.
Walk was my mantra. I was told over and over again, “do not run” by my physical therapist; an occasional skip would be allowed but no running. As I walked to the transition area I realized just how far it is and how long it takes.
I hadn’t practiced transitioning yet but done it before so not problem, right? Rain, plastic bag covers with puddles on top of your gear, chip falling off and a long walk with my bike to the road left me with an 8 minute transition. Must be a record. I heard my son-in-law Brad and my son Paul yelling as I rode out of the area. I couldn’t see them and they weren’t very loud but no matter, I was focused. This was my time to push. I knew I could stand and drive up the Day street ramp. I had practiced it and had done it in the past. Foiled as a person walking along the side of the ramp decided to step out in front of me and mount her bike. Emergency stop and walk to the top mumbling the whole way. Off I went again, down on my bars as fast as I could. “On your left” was my mantra this time. Into the tunnel I was reminded of the Danskin cheer as we all whooped and yelled “you go girl”. The turn around was not problem at all even with the wet roads. I pushed to the end of the bridge, no need to save my legs to run because I can’t. All I have to do is crawl across that line. Disappointment hit as were was told to get off our bikes and walk down the ramp. Someone had crashed and we were told it was too slick to ride. At the bottom got back on and pushed to dismount. Another long walk to my gear. At T2 I heard my family yelling and cheering as I more quickly this time got ready to walk. I saw Patty as I started out and felt encouraged by her support also. I tried to skip but at 55 my skipping days are long gone I think. I would power walk this thing. Hadn’t practiced it because hip pain was my frequent reminder not to “over do it”. It wasn’t hard at all. I stayed focused and had so much fun thanking the volunteers and cheering on all the RTB members passing me one way or another. It was great to be part of such a huge group who even though they didn’t know who I was cheered me on also. We were a presence out there. Many people commented to me about the team since I was walking and they could slow and chat a bit. I never slowed though. Heavy rain just made me laugh with the others next to me. We had it easy, it was the spectators who would be suffering. Erica my daughter came down the road and a quick high five felt good. No hip pain until the hill but now it was all downhill from here. My partner waited for me just like the years before at the bottom of the hill and chugged up it beside me on the sidewalk. At the top I told her to get down to the finish fast if she wants to see it because I would be there soon. I rounded the corner into the “chute” took my Team Survivor shirt our of my race belt and held it over my head as I jogged gently over the grass and across the finish line. I did it. Almost immediately I heard a voice and Erica said, “hi mom”. We found Brad and their boys and then I was told to take out my ear plugs. I had forgotten this little item during T-1 and that is why I couldn’t hear my cheer squad. I found Paul and Vickie and decided quickly I needed some more clothes. I was really wet and now cold. I walked all the way back to transition and changed clothes in a biffy. I joined the others again to get some food and then decided it was time to go before I turned completely to stone.
I think I had done just a little more than I should have but not damage. I completed Danskin a third time. No records but a phenomenal achievement. Two hours and two minutes, a bike pace only .5 mph slower than last year and a 46minute walk. My head is held high.
“There is always next year” is my mantra now. I don’t see my Orthopedist until October but I will announce proudly that I completed Danskin.
Is there another race for this year? I’m not sure. I’m being told to take it easy since it will take up to a year for the drill holes to completely fill and the dead bone to be replaced if it does at all. I am aching to get out there and do it again.
Why do I tri?
Because I am alive and I can. No excuses. Fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis in my spine with collapsed discs, rotator cuff tears, chronic tendonitis in many joints, brain cancer, asthma with bronchiectais and now osteo-necrosis are all little speed bumps in my journey. Giving me motivation and determination but most of all gratitude for who I am and all the people in my life who share this journey with me. Life is good.
1 comment:
what an insperation your post is! I spoke with you after you had just got out of the wheel chair, at Fleet Feet I believe ~ Way to go!
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