Thursday, September 29, 2011

Break Through


On September 1st I headed out for a run. I was looking forward to it and had been all week. It was going to be a hard session. It was going to tap into the upper end of my threshold. It was going to require a serious play list carefully compiled according to a warm up, workout and cool down. It was key session to savior.


My execution of the workout was near perfect. I hit my speeds and heart rates like clockwork and was reveling in my accomplishment the whole way home. Okay, maybe I felt a small “twinge” in my right hip flexor but that was to be expected after a tough session. Such a minor sensation paled in comparison to the ongoing glut tightness I have endured for years – always on my right side. I almost welcomed tension somewhere else.

Waking up on September 2nd for my first step of the day was cause for concern. That right hip flexor “twinge” was a bit stiff, stiffer than just typical post-workout soreness. I know the difference. Decision: drop the scheduled run in exchange for a swim. The weekend was nearing and so were some key workouts including a 5-hour ride, a long run and a threshold swim. Friday became a rest day in hopes of waking Saturday with vigor and fortitude. Muskoka Half Ironman was a week away; Austin and Miami races were six and seven weeks away. A hip flexor “twinge” was certainly not going to turn into a full-blown injury. I had big plans.

Saturday came and my “twinge” was no better. No biking, no running, just a swim would be in order. I hobbled to the pool with more than just a little soreness. Sunday would need to be another rest day. The days were getting long and my symptoms were anything but subsiding. My walk was becoming a limp with searing pain now inside my hip joint. Surely I just needed to untie all the knots in my muscles. I aggressively stretched, strengthened, rolled out and fired weak muscles. No progress. Concern and confusion were at an all time high.

One week after my initial symptoms, it was time for an x-ray to access the bones and joints. Results: Negative. Treatment: Morphine and Crutches. Could it be trochanteric bursitis? Could a soft tissue injury be this painful? Could a Cortisone Shot cure me? Wishful thinking.

My trip to Ontario was cancelled, as were any hopes of racing again this year when the results from an MRI and CT Scan showed a stress fracture of my femoral neck. The break line was amazingly clean and evident. How it did not show up on an x-ray is anyone’s guess. In fact, I’ve stopped guessing. I suspect a small undetectable split in the bone was always there but during my 10 days of hobbling, stretching, rolling, moving and walking, it spread like a crack on a windshield. The good news (because there is always good news) was the bones were in perfect alignment. Dislodged bones presented an entirely new scenario.

Not one to take an injury passively, I was anywhere but home waiting to get heal. In the preceding 10 days, I’d been to Emergency at UBC Hospital, consumed Codeine like candy, had three physiotherapy appointments, had an intramuscular stimulation (IMS) treatment, met with doctors on four separate occasions, agreed to a cortisone shot for possible Bursitis, and paid for a private X-ray, MRI and CT scan. The CT Scan cracked the code and it was worth every penny.

Allow me to digress. For many years, my team of medical experts in Vancouver has helped me prevent serious damage and rehabilitate from debilitating injury. Each one of them knows my darkest secrets and I owe them much more than just the odd breakthrough performance. For some reason, we all (myself included) had not suspected a broken bone until it was confirmed. I was being treated for soft tissue injury and we were all equally perplexed. I don’t fault any of them for not suspecting a fractured femoral neck. Apparently this type of injury only happens to people who are four times my age. Apparently not.

Ironically, my brother Mark had participated in a 24 Hour Charity Cycling event at Mont Tremblant over the weekend with friends. One of his teammates and close friends was an orthopedic surgeon specializing in Pelvic area. He graciously agreed to look at the image of my CT Scan and within in 5 seconds he called Mark to order me to VGH Emergency for surgery that night. My situation was suddenly “urgent” yet I was in the middle of making salad dressing for dinner with Ruthie! Mark’s tone was not to be questioned so I dropped the garlic, called Ruthie and we made our way to Emergency instead of to my patio for soup and salad.

I must digress yet again and mention a word about Ruthie…selflessly giving, unhesitatingly caring and authentically trusting, only begins to describe her nature and the meaning of her friendship to me. She dropped everything to take me to emergency all the while she too should have been admitted for an infected root canal she had had that SAME DAY. Her father, Dr. Coorperberg, joined us in the waiting room for moral support and to push the bureaucratic envelop a bit. He too had had a medical procedure that day. We were like the Three Stooges awaiting our fate.

Two and a half hours later, I was admitted, questioned, x-rayed, changed, drugged and checked into a single room much unlike the Ritz Carlton but a minor upgrade from the Motel 6. Ruthie was at my side every solitary second except for when she ducked out to retrieve our sushi dinner and fashion magazines. We dined in the casting room amongst plaster and medical supplies and somehow found laughter in every subtle occurrence (a.k.a: fatigue + nerves + girls = Giddy). Once we both knew I was spending the night, she made her way home to her own family and responsibilities.

Surgery was elusively scheduled for Tuesday. Somehow Ruthie made it back to the hospital just in time for a pre-operation farewell. She held my hand while tapping updates on my Blackberry to family and friends. She told me everything would be fine and I believed her.

Emotions flooded over me when I couldn’t see her anymore and the reality of someone playing around with my bones was closing in. Playing, may I add, with bones that were the lifeblood of movement and the hinge of my very important right limb. However, the importance of racing, training and my professional career as a triathlete was dimmed to a shadow in relation to basic mobility and health. It is amazing to me how perspective changes under dire circumstances and how our priorities, values and desires shift when striped of gifts as precious as mobility.

The surgery was a brilliant success. The bones were fused with three pins and the blazing pain was gone from the moment my anesthetic wore off. Post-surgery aches and throbbing persisted but trusty drugs rescued my wincing every time. Meanwhile Ruthie’s infected root canal went on to swell up and take over her lip and right cheek. Her beautiful face was transformed to that of a Fraggal Rock character. Had she not dealt with it I would have been accompanying her to a hospital bed.

My mother arrived from Montreal just as my four-post bed and IV was being rolled back into my Ritz Suite. Butlers and maids were waiting ever so patiently to refill my refreshments (IV) and change my bedding (plastic cover). In fact, they were so gracious and helpful, they didn’t even let me get up to use the Loo. They brought it to me. What a treat.

Thanks to fading anesthetic I was free entertainment for all my visitors with delirious and socially inept chatter and eyes at half-mast. My friends (even the ones I didn’t know I had) contacted me with concern and interest. From down pillows to sushi, books, magazines, flowers, super greens, yoga pants, home made lasagna, copious texts, emails, visits and phone calls and invaluable moments of laughter and tears, there wasn’t a moment to wallow in my sorrow.

Last time I digress. Promise.

A word about the way the universe works…I believe this was meant to happen. The Adjustment Bureau was in full control here. They even sent Angels to watch over me well before my final diagnosis, the surgery and prognosis. They wanted to give me strength before I even knew I would need it. I suspect they choose my coach Jasper Blake to deliver the message because it was he who stabilized my emotional wobbles and enlightened me to how it was going to be and who I needed to emulate. He repeatedly said the present moment is all we have and we must live it with integrity and perspective. “Don’t jump ahead,” he said, “and don’t regret the past. What’s done is done. Be in the now and live it out, as it should be. What lies ahead isn’t within your control so there isn’t any point worrying about it. Be who you aspire to be - authentic, respectful and grounded.” He also told me to think of someone I truly admired and how they would handle this situation. How would the world’s most respected athlete handle being somewhat derailed from regular training and the best laid performance plans? He also said (and always says), “Don’t panic.” Those simple words scream loudly and pointedly to someone as focused and goal driven as myself when I feel a tug at my carpet under foot. Breathing becomes easier without panic.

Jasper’s confidence in me as an individual (with or without my next bike ride) stabilized my emotions and planted my feet firmly on the ground. I knew how I needed to embody this situation and almost enjoy a completely unplanned change in direction and priorities. I also knew this mindset would cause the least amount of stress on others and myself. Having a peace of mind and patience was going to be a critical component to my recovery and neither pity nor negativity was invited to the party.

The number one question my (athletic) friends ask me is whether I am climbing the walls anxious to train. My reply is categorically no. Would I like to be mobile? Yes of course. But at this moment, I am far more inspired to regain my health. My goals have shifted 180 degrees from racing to rebuilding with the same passion and focus as applied to my training. Amazingly, when I gain another inch of mobility in my hip it feels gaining 2 seconds in a 100 meter swim.

What has been the biggest shift as a result of a fractured hip? Likely the newfound time and energy to dedicate to entirely different activities that don’t involve sweating or a heart rate monitor. This new time is also breeding rejuvenation thanks to living a little lazy, sleeping in a little late, chatting endlessly with friends and family, reading entire books, soaking in more movies and watching the grass grow one blade at a time. It’s been years - maybe 20 - since I have lived a little lazy. It is mandatory. It feels wonderful. It has a window. It is a break through.

Off to nap.
Christine

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Summer Love & Integrity

Summer Love
 

It’s hard to believe Labor Dar weekend is already here and summer is closing in on us fast. As much as I enjoy the warmth and sunshine of a glorious summer day, I also love our seasons - the ebb and flow of nature, temperatures and daylight hours. Summer seems to be the only season that comes to an abrupt halt. One day it’s hot and sultry, the next day it’s breezy and cool. In the midst of an endless summer streak where day after day brings blue skies, the sun never sleeps, the beaches are packed and freedom of expression is rampant it’s hard not to notice that love is in the air, all around us. Can you feel it?

While our Canadian summer arrived late this year, it was one of my most fulfilling summers in some time. From a training, racing, professional and personal level, I found new heights of engagement, challenge and adventure. Was it the weather? Was it my aging wisdom? Was it a few good results? Perhaps a mixture of everything but likely it was the result of timing, perspective and letting it happen.

The experience of racing is something I have always loved. Building up to race day is a process. It begins with a block of training that is intense and purposeful followed by a taper that calms the body and mind down in preparation for race day. Race day (and the days leading up to it) are filled with emotions and only the grounded few are able to cope with the highs and lows of the stress and excitement surrounding race day. Exhilaration is intensely mixed with uncertainty and confidence. In reality, racing is simply a journey to challenge our fitness. It strengthens our character and provides resilience. There is unsurpassed effort, pacing, fueling, focus, integrity, respect, hopes and pitfalls all of which come together and drive us to a finish line of that given day only to tempt us to the next challenge. A successful race day experience can also provide tremendous satisfaction and fulfillment. For most athletes, myself included, training and racing are true love affairs. The unexpected injections of emotions we didn’t even know existed culminate in so many athletic endeavors. One might say these experiences are addictive. But true love isn’t addictive; it’s authentic, genuine and embodied with integrity. Maybe I am maturing but this feels like true love.

And so, it’s been a busy summer of love since my last post. Jasper Blake (just placed 5th at Ironman Canada) kept me on the program building strength and fitness with a packed race schedule. Victoria Half Ironman (3rd place), Desert Half Ironman (1st place) and Lake Stevens Half Ironman (5th place) filled the calendar nicely. My focus is now on Muskoka Half Ironman on September 11th followed by Austin (October 23rd) and Miami (October 30th). This schedule excites my senses and blends nicely with my perspective and feelings of centeredness, not to mention the adventures of getting to each venue and exploring the area.


But I must continue to share more on the topic of integrity and the weight it should carry more of in all our lives (I am taking notes here)…

Yesterday was a pivotal day for me to have re-emphasized the importance of perspective and approach to something as precious as having the ability to train every day healthily and happily (that can be a tall order). I rode with a friend, Mike Ryan. He is a seasoned rider having been a professional mountain biker and multiple road-riding champion (national and international levels). While in his 50’s, he continues to destroy the young pups in any given field. He does it with humility and integrity…every time. Mike and I have known each other for over 10 years. We met riding and continue to share our passion for sport and adventure. His easy spin is my hard effort any day of the week. He lost his father this week. He was with his dad when he died. He is training with his team today, hard. He is racing Gran Fondo next weekend. He has a V02max of a 25 year old. He brings one water bottle for 5 hour rides. He takes pride in his sport, workmanship and space in the universe. All of this does not go unnoticed. He lives in the present. He keeps his ego in check. He isn’t the centre of attention yet he is centered from within. He has many interests and embodies an old soul. He is grateful and inclusive.


Mike shared some of his insights with me during our ride. They were timely and relevant on so many levels. The most prominent was in relation to integrity. This is how I internalized our discussion and the lessons he taught me climbing the hill out of Furry Creek Golf Club.


No matter what Mike is doing in his life – training, racing, socializing or working, Mike approaches each scenario with integrity. He is relentlessly consistent, honest, truthful and accurate in his actions. He looks after his body and mind so that when the time is right, he can deliver. He knows the difference between comfort and pain. He knows how to hurt and endure. Mike is an amazing speciment with more battle scars than most people walking the streets have combined. He uses all his experiences to live more fully and perform on demand. Whether all those riders trying to drop him on Cypress see this in him doesn’t really matter. He knows.


Mike didn’t try to drop me at any given moment (although he did unknowingly, he then waited). With all his grief from losing his father, he willingly shared little snipets of wisdom. I was listening attentively. As I sit here finishing up this post, I think about the swim I have ahead of me. How can I best approach it with integrity, purpose and love? I think I’ll nap first before contemplating my strategy.


Hope you all had a Summer of Love. Maybe we’ll meet in San Fransico next year for Wildflower “Woodstock” Triathlon and express Free Love.


Christine


Summer Riding