Buzzin'

It's happening...

I can feel it...

Undeniable.

Unmistakable.

Buzzin

On training success

And pain free running...

Each time I run I feel incredible, and I don't want to stop don't want it to end. But I make it stop, nothing more than 30 minutes at a time still - but next week I get to stretch 30 to 45 one day a week - because I'm demanding of myself patience, patience, patience in building the way a build is supposed be built - slow like the overnight shift with more doctors than patients...

Chicago, from the 80s - yea, it makes me feel old... "You don't know what you've got, until its gone, and i found out just a little too late..." I appreciate painfree running more than ever right now - almost the best sensation I can imagine... (almost...)

Speaking of old, my patients never know how old I am. I inevitably am told still that I look young for a doc, and I typically ignore the comments or brush them aside with a "I don't feel very young for a doc though" retort. Couple nights ago I'm sewing up the forehead of the latest Club Platinum beer bottle to the head victim when she says "You look young, how old are you?" "Oh, I'm plenty old" I said back. "How old are you, like 38?" I chuckled and said "Something like that" to which she responded "No, I bet you're 42..." "No no, why don't you stick with your first guess, I like that a lot better..."

Maybe I don't look as young as I feel like I look anymore...

Thanks for joining me for My Daily Spin...

Declaration

Declaration #1: I will eat No Cake until after my next iron distance triathlon.

Now I have even more reason to get off my lazy butt and get 'er done.

Couple of race options in September. Great Illini????

Talkin Bump n Grind

So I'm racing the Bump 'n Grind XIV in a few weeks, and I'm getting a little worried. Why I am worried?

I've never mt bike raced before. Well, I actually have never bike raced period, mt bike or road or bmx or anything. Sure, I've ridden a fair amount over the years and obviously completed the bike portion of duathon and triathlon races, but I've never raced a bike race.

If you follow the link to the race site and look at race results from previous years, you'll notice that my division, which is Sport 30-34 male, the winning time last year was 1:12:45. Now I've ridden this 17 mile course many times over the last couple months, and I only once finished less than 1:30. That would put me better than last place, but not much better. I don't like finishing close to last.

Yesterday I decided to do 2 loops on the course, which I've never done. It didn't work out too well. I was thinking about my legs burning and lost my focus. Losing your focus on a trail in my experience predicts a nasty crash about 90% of the time, and yesterday was no different. I went down hard on a rocky section, and my day was done 3 or 4 miles into the 2nd loop.

I've started running more again after minimal to no running since mid January. So far nothing is hurting much, although I feel incredibly tight. 30 minutes Sunday went well, so I'll try another 30 today.

Hopefully, if all goes well, I'll be able to resume more regular tri training soon... God knows I need it, physically and definitely mentally...

Thanks for joining me for My Daily Spin...

Update

Alive...

Everything

I give you so much of me, more than I ever expected I would want to, or be able to give.

You have my daylight, and I give my moonlight so that I can give you your dreams.

Soccer, and ballet, and gymnastics, and school, and races... Playgrounds and bookstores and libraries and swimming and boy's days and prayertimes... Homework before you can play, and lima beans before another piece of bread...

One look at you and it's obvious; I am in you. But you too, are in me. In all that I do, and all that I want... Inseparable.

I haven't given you the easiest path, and God knows I don't do things right a lot of the time. But there's not a day I breathe that you aren't with me.

I love you.

A Race and A Brick

This morning I ran the Knights of Columbus 5k in Birmingham. I should start by saying that I felt great going into this race. My legs were fresh - ha, maybe too fresh considering they only had an hour of running in the last 6 weeks. And I felt skinny. Now I know this sounds like a chic thing to say, but I guess the last few days I had been eating a little less than normal and a little more healthy than normal, and it made me feel - well, skinny.

Anyway, I woke up at 653 and walked the dogs, then ate my mini-bagel and banana, and then fed the dogs. Grrr, the dogs. Mars is, well, in the doghouse. So they are eating their food and Mars walks to the front door and poops on the hardwood. They NEVER do that! So he and I had words, and I the day was not starting out good.

I got to the race in a little bit of a hurry after being delayed by the clean-up. I registered and did a warm-up mile, and then got in line to pee. After waiting for a few minutes they called the runners to the start line, so no pee. Didn't really become an issue, but it still would have been nice to go!

I positioned myself on the 3rd or 4th row of people and the gun sounded. I quickly made my way to the front in the 2nd pack. The lead pack of 5 was about 50 yards ahead by 1/2 mile, and our pack of 6 was another 50 or so yards ahead of the next group. By the 1 mile marker, our pack was spread out and the lead pack was about 100 yards ahead of me. My watch said 5:53.

Now my goal was 6:25 pace, and when I saw 5:53 I knew I had blown the race. I was breathing pretty hard and I knew my legs would start to feel heavy soon. I slowed the pace while trying not to wither completely.

No one was passing me, so I still felt good about things and knew I was still close to or in the top 10. The 2nd mile came at 12:52 and I knew a sub 20 was now out of the question. Now I would just try to salvage race positions.

The 3rd mile had a longish gradual incline that seemed to slow me even more, but I was trying so hard to keep my legs turning over as fast as possible. I got to what I recognized as the last few straights and checked my watch - 18:10, but I wasn't sure exactly how far was left. 2 people passed me in the last half mile, the only 2 that passed me the whole race.

I crossed the line in 20:38, 14 seconds/mile slower than what I needed. So, once again, pacing is everything!! I think the 6 weeks off to recover from the broken heelbone didn't really affect my speed or aerobic ability too much - I did tons of cross training and flexibility/strength stuff to try to maintain that. But it definitely affected my ability to race smart and know how fast I was running.

After the race I was surprised to learn I had finished 1st in my age group, and 12th overall. Not sure how many total racers there were - I'd guess around a hundred. I even got a spiffy plaque to take home, my first real award for running!

I went home after the race, took the dogs to the park to play, and then loaded my bike in the SUV. I drove about 75 minutes to Weaver, the start of the Chief Ladiga Trail. This is a rails to trails success story, a 33 mile paved trail in eastern Alabama that (hopefully) will extend further into Georgia soon and become even longer.

I rode 25 miles out in 1:12, and then cruised back in 1:30. I then topped the 50 mile bike with a 1 mile run to officially make it a brick and then I called it a day.

Riding the trail was extraordinarily nice. I especially appreciate not having to constantly wonder if a car is about to mow you over. And although there were several road crossings, I never had to come to a complete stop to wait for traffic - I was able to pedal the entire time.

Rails to trails rocks!

Next week I travel to western Alabama for the Camp Partlow Duathlon, a 2m/17m/2m race and my first multisport race of the year! Woohoo!

Thanks for joining me for My Daily Spin...

Back on My Feet

I'm running again!!

Yesterday I ran for the first time since the RNRAZ half marathon, which I suffered through with a stress fractured calcaneous. I ran on the Trussville sports park trails for about 3 miles with my pup Max.

I felt great. I felt so good that I don't think I'll suffer any significant setbacks from the 6 weeks off. Max was impressive, running right alongside me and NOT tripping me the entire time!

I'm jumping right back into the racing scene with the Knights of Columbus 5k on Saturday. Maybe this will be the right time for that elusive sub 20.

So I read an article about Functional Threshold Power testing on the bike last night and tried to test mine this afternoon. I wasn't sure what power to set the computrainer to, so I picked 230 watts. Last season I was using 230 watts for my 3 minute intervals. Today I worked my ass off to pull 230 for the whole hour but I did it and survived. So for now, for what it's worth, I'm calling my FTP 230 watts.

After the FTP session I trekked to the pool with plans to cover 3000 yards. HA! I think the biking tapped most of my energy because after a fast 1000 to start, I was toast. I pulled up and did a few 200s and I was done.

I think I'm going to do a mile time trial later this week and see where I stand. Last year early season I made a goal of a 30 minute mile and never was able to reach it, but I feel like I can do it right now. We'll see...

Thanks for joining me for My Daily Spin...

God, Jesus, and Elvis

The kids and I rode past a cemetary on the way home from the bookstore yesterday. Tess noticed a group of perople gathered and asked why they were all standing there.

I explained, "Well, when people die sometimes they are buried. And that's called a grave..."

She then picked it up, "Oh and their families can come and see them whenever they want."

"Right, you got it."

"Well, Daddy," she continued further, "Who was the first person to die in the whole world?"

"In the whole world?"

"Yea..."

"Well, Tess, I'm not sure..."

Then Emma chimed in, "Was it God?"

"Well, no, because God is still alive and he's all around us."

Tess asked "Was it Jesus?"

"Well, Tess, Jesus did die but then he came back to life."

Then Anna, sweet sweet Anna, asked "Well was it Elvis???"

God, Jesus, and Elvis... We laughed all the way home.

Season Planning

9000 yards swimming in the last 7 days is the highest one week volume ever for me. This week is bike concentration. I'm starting to plot out the race season. I know it will include the Spokes for Strokes Century on March 16. It definitely will include the Powerman or Whistlestop Duathlon in April, the Bolder Boulder 10k on Memorial Day, and the 24 Hours of Triathlon in August. I think it will also include the Gulf Coast Tri Half Iron in May. I'm still not sure about IM CDA; it will cost me about 1500 to get an entry this late and having a little trouble stomaching the fee while trying to eliminate/pare down debt. Too bad Dave Ramsay doesn't have an envelope for IM fees...

Boys Will be Boys

I let Mars and Max roam free in my unfenced backyard to play with their friend Bowser from the house next door. They played merrily for about 45 minutes before they decided to venture into the woods behind my house. I went after them, but they were quickly out of sight.

I stayed in the yard, whistled, called their names (as if they respond to them...), and waited. Bowser has roamed free through the neighborhood for the last 3 years. Several times before he has followed the kids and I onto the trails, left us after a couple of mile, and then wandered back home sometime later. He always explores, and he hasn't gone missing. So I wasn't too concerned initially because I knew Bowser could lead my boys home.

So I waited about 15 minutes, although it seemed like hours. I had all 4 kids of my kids plus 1 extra with me at home; I couldn't just leave them to go chase dogs. But I cou;dn't just let my almost 6 month old puppies disappear either. So I herded the kids inside, threatened to withold dinner for anyone that left the house before I returned, and started hiking the trails to find the dogs. I made a quick 1 mile loop with no sightings. I looked down over the sports fields. Nothing.

I returned home dejected. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't want to just sit and hope they might find their way home. I loaded the kids into the truck and we went searching. We drove around for about 15 minutes, but no luck. I was beginning to think I'd never see my boys again...

We returned home, resigned to a dogless fate. I felt awful. I just adopted these dogs from the shelter 3 weeks ago. I have been given the responsibility to love and shelter and feed and care for them, and I lose them in less than a month.

We got back home and the kids went to the backyard to play and - THERE THEY WERE!!! Right where they had left from more than an hour prior. Except they were soaking wet, as was Bowser, and Max had lost his leash (both dogs were still leashed when they left). I'm guessing they must have ventured to the Cahaba River, about a mile away through the woods, to go for a swim.

Well, I guess all is well that ends well.... Those boys...

Ironman Switzerland 2007 Photos

I finally ordered my photos from Zurich, so here they are...

Progress, and Sick?

I've been on the bike and in the pool more the last week. Total time not that impressive, but I feel like progress is being made. I'm slowly upping my sustained watts on the computrainer. Last year at this time I was doing 5 minute intervals with 170 watts, now I'm riding 175 indefinitely. Gotta love that!

I don't think I ever appreciated the cumulative benefit of training that you get from multiple consecutive years of training until this month. I've been swimming since July of 2006, with the exception of a couple months off in November and December. It's always been a struggle for me, and I was afraid the couple of months off would put me back at square one. NOT! The yards just flow by so easily it's amazing. I can push hard and then take rests by swimming with an easier stroke without having to grab the wall and gasp. Yesterday I stopped at 1000 yards - my shortest swim this in 2008 - because of a headache and feeling kind of pooped after a trainer ride.

Speaking of headache, I think I might be starting to get sick. I was watching UAB crush Marshall in basketball at Bartow Arena last night when I felt the first hint of a scratchy throat. That plus yesterday's headache and a little more achiness today than I can explain away with training soreness leaves me concerned that I'm about to get hit hard with flu-like stuff. YUCK! But I should expect it. I mean, the last couple of weeks in the ER probably half of the people I've treated had the flu. It's hitting us big-time this year, so watch out!

Until next time, thanks for joining me for My Daily Spin.

As Good as Can Be Expected

His last words spoken were "How's it lookin' doc?"



I responded, after a few seconds hesitation trying to summon the most appropriate thing to say to a man who likely would be dead within a few hours, "Well, I guess as good as can be expected..." And then I took his hand, gave it another squeeze, and he drifted off into that unconscious abyss between life and death.



He was 72. It seems appropriate to say only 72, because I think he should have lived much longer. He never smoked, or drank too much, he fought in wars and represented his people in the political arena. He had a colonoscopy every 5 years and a PSA annually. He took his pneumovax and routine flu shots. He did everything he was supposed to do.



Then again, he was 72. To me, that still seems old. It's more than 20 years longer than my dad lived, and almost 20 years longer than my dad's dad. But this guy had none of my family's bad genes, or bad habits for that matter.

This was the first time I had met him. He was lying on an ER gurney, gasping for breath but not particularly anxious or panicky. He was alone.

Three months prior he had gotten up to pee in the middle of the night and passed out. A doctor's visit followed the next day, and an xray led to a biopsy which showed metastatic lung cancer. He was given a prognosis of 6 months to live. Chemo and radiation wouldn't help him, and the cancer was too extensive to remove surgically. But he told me he never believed them; he thought he would beat it somehow.

For 3 months he toiled along, occasionally having some trouble breathing and coughing a little more, but doing reasonably well. No more doctor visits. No hospitalizations. He didn't tell his family - "didn't want to get them in a worry about nothing" he said.

But the night he came to my ER he started having a harder time breathing. He stayed home struggling for most of the night but when he collapsed to the floor in the bathroom and slammed his right chest into the commode he couldn't stand the pain and was having even more trouble breathing. When he arrived by ambulance about 4 am he was on a 100% oxygen mask with oxygen levels only about 90%, his heart rate was in the 140s, and he was breathing about 40 times a minute. One thing that I try to teach my residents early on is to try to differentiate the patient who is sick sick versus not so sick. This guy was sick sick - no doubt.

He was still coherent, and still competent, despite being critically ill. I sat down beside him, held his hand, got within inches of his face and talked to him while the rest of the ER staff started IVs and got EKGs and blood drawn.

He told me his story, as best he could with the little breath he had. He asked me to call his daughter and explain what was happening, and I did.

His labs and xrays and ekgs revealed to us that he had a heart attack within the last couple of days, that he had multiple broken ribs from the fall, and that his cancer was eating way at both lungs as well as his entire spine, his femurs, and his pelvis.

And so I had to talk to him, about what his options were and about what we could and couldn't do for him. I told him that this wasn't something that he could fix, and that he was going to die within the next day or 2. His daughter arrived.

We all agreed that we would do whatever we could to make him comfortable and let him die as peacefully as painlessly as possible. I ordered repeated shots of morphine and ativan, and we let him drift away.

Ya know, each person has their way that they need to deal with things. Some people won't understand that he wouldn't tell his family he was dying. They might think it was selfish or get angry. But everyone handles their problems uniquely, and there will never be, cannot be, a right or wrong way to handle many of life's scenarios. There can only be your way, his way.

In the end, he got what he wanted. His family never had to worry about him. And as I talked to them in the ER that night, I knew that they understood his decisions. He was intelligent, independent, and strong - and that's how he needed to be remembered.

I guess it went about as good as could be expected...

Thanks for joining me for My Daily Spin. [This story has been altered slightly to protect confidentiality]

Mars and Max

Meet Mars (left) and Max (Right), the newest additions to my family. M & M are 5 month old brothers that I adopted from the humane society. New training partners!!!

RNR Arizona Half Marathon Race Report

Yesterday the story finally ended.

Normally after a weekend race I'm ready to post a race report Monday morning. But this one was a little different, so the race report is a few days delayed. Let me explain.

The PF Chang's Rock n Roll Marathon was on my sights since late summer. It was to be my Boston qualifying race, my breakout event. I was gunning for a 45 minute PR performance that I was confident would be cake.

But things didn't go exactly like I thought they would.

First, in mid fall I had a mild IT band flare that cut short my long runs for a month. Then in December I had posterior hip pains that necessitated another 2 weeks without running. When I ran again, on January 2, there was a new and unexpected pain with every left foot strike.

Now last August I suffered a right foot 3rd metatarsal stress fracture, but that completely healed and is pain free. So I was NOT expecting this new left foot/ankle pain. The pain cut short my run on the 1st to 4 miles, then the following day the pain continued and cut my run to 3 miles.

I decided not to run any more before the RNR race and drop from the full to the half. On Friday, 2 days before the race, I ran 3 miles to see if it was better. It wasn't. I decided I would run anyway.

Race morning Sunday I lined up at the starting line nervous about the ankle/foot but intoxicated with the excitement that comes with these huge races. I LOVE mega-races. I positioned myself in the 3rd of about 30 corrals, opting not to go to the 1st corral like my race number suggested I should.

We started and the ankle/foot hurt immediately but was tolerable. Before the race I had rubbed 2 different pain relieving creams on it and taken (yes this is a raceday no no but I was desperate) ibuprofen. I think without the pain relievers I wouldn't have made it as far as I did.

5 k came in under 22 minutes and I was feeling good with only a little pain. But by 5 miles the ankle was hurting more, and by 10 k the pain was sharp and starting to limit my pace. 10 k passed in just under 44 minutes (which interestingly is still the fastest 10k I've ever run - ever...).

By 8 miles my pace had slowed and I was limp-running. It is such a terrible feeling when you start to drift back into the pack, knowing that all the work you put into the early mile is going for naught. And I drifted. Way back...

Miles 10-13 were at 10 minute pace, and I was miserable. I didn't pass a single person after mile 9. I considered walking, or dropping, but I knew that when I stopped running I would barely be able to walk and that seemed even more unbearable than running with the pain.

Those last few miles I kept thinking about Momo's post about her friend with cancer who still runs religiously and about taking running for granted. I was going to finish this, because I could. No matter the pain, I still could.

I was able to get a little bit of a kick at the finish to cross the line at 1:46.

When I finally walked post-race, I could barely put any weight on the ankle and I was suffering. I hobbled over to collect my gear and went straight to my rental car. I considered waiting for my peeps, but my misery didn't need to be shared...

I got on the interstate and drove solo for 250 miles to the Grand Canyon. I hadn't planned the side-trip, but I needed some time to reflect, and I needed some instant inspiration to pick me up.

Let me tell ya the GC is a damn good place for inspiration! When I left the race in Tempe it was mid 60s. When I got out of the car at GC it was snowing with 4 inches on the ground and 30 degrees, blue skies (mostly) and crisp crisp crisp. I hobbled around the South Rim for a couple of hours and felt the morale return.

This race meant nothing, and that's how I needed to treat it. There will be more races, there will be a time when I'm not always injured.

I got back in the car and drove the 250 miles back to Phoenix, then hooked up with friends old and new for a fantastic dinner and poker.

And life was good...

I returned to Alabama Monday and met with the orthopedic surgeon Wednesday. The xrays show a fractured calcaneous - the heel bone.

6-8 weeks of no running for me, but the bigger question is how do I keep from getting injured so frequently in the future? Already I never run more than 30-35 miles a week. I do a ton of cross training. I've decided to start taking calcium supplements. And I'm going to have a stride analysis when I can run again. But beyond that, I don't know....

So there it is... Anticipation, Loss, Excitement, Defeat, Inspiration, and Hope...

Life is good.

Thanks for joining me for My Daily Spin. Next time I'll tell you about the latest (surprise) additions to my family!!