Today was my first day back at the office after my DNF (which should have been a DNS...more on that in a bit) at Ironman Canada. My first day back to my "normal" routine. Except I got home from work and there was no swimming, biking or running to be done. Doctors orders. And it feels so foreign to me. Its not that I've never had a day off. Its that I don't even have the option to SBR - and theres no foreseeable date in the immediate future when I'll be able to get back to what is actually my normal routine. I'm injured. I have an injury. Which has been hard for me to grasp. I've been "injured" before. But before now, nothing has ever prevented me from actually doing what I love most. Coming to terms with the fact that there is something wrong with me that I can't immediately fix is very frustrating. And pisses me off even more because there's not a clear path to getting better. No, "take this pill" or "do these exercises". I'm much better at delaying gratification now then I was 5 or even a few years ago - and thats sort of the scenario that I'm in now. I want to be "normal" again. I want the gratification of getting back to doing what I enjoy most.
I've admittedly gone pretty dark in the week or so after the race. My closest friends know whats going on - because they asked. Otherwise I probably wouldnt have shared anything with anyone. My coworkers know because I've got numerous doctors appointments on the calendar. I was disappointed, upset, angry, hurt, confused and everything in between. All because I simply didnt get to race. Which from the outside looking in seems like a pretty insignificant problem. And for the most part I'd agree. I've come to terms with triathlon being simply a hobby. It's a very serious hobby of mine. One that takes up anywhere from 10-20 hours of my week, all year. But it is only a hobby. It doesnt provide my income. And ultimately I'd prefer it not even define me as a person. But no matter, if you invest 8 months of your time working towards a singular goal, it's going to hurt when you're denied the chance to even compete. And hurt it did. On the day. During the days after. And even as I write this. But in the week or so since, with some very thoughtful words and poignant advice from close friends I've come to terms with everything. And more importantly, I was reminded why I do all of this anyway. I enjoy the process. Almost as much as the expression of all the work done on race day. Swimming, biking and running is my release. It's more than just part of my routine - it's part of me.
So what happened exactly? My DNF at Canada was probably a long time in the making. Unfortunately. And let the following be a lesson to anyone with lingering aches or pains. As much as 18 months ago or longer even, I started experiencing numbness and tingling down the back side of my right leg. It seemed to start on the right side of my low back with some tightness and occasional mild pain. And it would always be most noticeable while seated at my desk. When it first started, I'd adjust the height of my chair, angle of the seat of my chair, amount of lumbar support, etc. Nothing seemed to alleviate the issue - apart from just getting up and walking around or doing some light stretching. Some days it'd be worse than others but it was never debilitating in any way. Regardless, I went to get it checked out shortly after the numbness/tingling started. At the time, my ortho said it was probably a mild herniation in my low back but that he couldnt confirm without an MRI. So he ordered one. And, I of course, didn't go/get it done. Because these issues would come and go. And sometimes they'd go for long stretches at a time and I'd all but forget that I might even have a herniation at all. This was sometime in 2011 as far as I can remember. Yeah, I know.
Flash forward to 2013, and the numbness/tingling would still show up, but never was really that much of an issue. Just like it always had been. More of an annoyance. And just about the time I'd feel like it was becoming more than an annoyance, it'd go away. Either that or I just became so comfortable with the issues that it all just started to feel normal when it was being only mildly aggravating. And then when it'd really flare up would be when I noticed? I dont know. I did, about 8 months ago, switch to a $15 fold out aluminum chair because it seemed to alleviate things. At least more so than the fancy $1000 chair we're provided. So clearly, in hindsight, things werent okay. I'd also like to note that it didnt really seem like things would worsen with more hours spent SBRing. Meaning, the severity of the numbness/tingling didn't seem to be correlated with a bump in my training load. It sort of seemed at random. But I admittedly can be a bit aloof at connecting dots like that. When I get sick, I generally just chalk it up as just me getting sick. I never seem to think to much about why or how it might have happened.
Anyway, flash forward again to the Monday before I was to toe the line at Ironman Canada (two weeks from yesterday and 6 days from race day). I'd literally just wrapped up the biggest block of training of my life. My power and garmin files pointed to fitness I've never had. I was nailing workouts and recovering well. The changes in my training this year really seemed to have been making an impact on my fitness. I was excited. SO excited to express it all on that Sunday. Everything had gone so well. But as I was pulling our luggage out of our storage unit, my worst nightmare happened. I bent over to set down the last piece, after trying to have been mindful of moving around the heavier things in our unit just to get to the luggage, and as I went to raise back up, my lower back seized or spasmed or just otherwise erupted in pain. I immediately collapsed to the ground in a pain I've never felt. I couldn't move. Literally. I just sat there on all fours. Instantly my mind started racing. I crawled back into the apartment (storage unit is across the hall from our apt) and laid face up in the middle of the living room screaming in pain and not knowing what to do. I first tried to get a hold of my massage therapist. Actually, Joelle did. I couldn't do anything. She was out of town. Joelle then called her father whom thankfully is a Doctor and was able to prescribe me a muscle relaxer, prescription anti inflammatory and pain reliever. It was unfortunately late in the evening so we werent able to pick up any of the meds until the following morning. Joelle had to work from home on Tuesday because I had a hard time even making it to the bathroom. It was 36 hours before I could even walk standing straight up.
Once able to walk, I saw my massage therapist. I ended up seeing her 3 times before my flight on Thursday morning. And in my desperation, went to a chiropractor. I thought maybe something just needed to "release". Of course I was no better after. Thankfully, I had packed my bike away on Sunday evening but even getting to the airport seemed like a task that might not be possible. One of my good friends, Mike, volunteered not only to pick Joelle and I up at our place the night before our flight, but also let us stay at his place in Jersey City AND THEN drove us to the airport in the morning. (I might not even have been able to make the trip without his help so big thanks to you buddy!) The plane ride was pretty terrible. I was pumped full of muscle relaxers and anti inflammatory meds though, so I managed well enough. Upon arrival in Vancouver, my mom and her husband met us at the airport and again carted my bike and bags around. By that evening after walking around normally all day, I felt I needed to try/test if I could even run so Joelle, my brother and I set off on what turned out to be a 20 minute jog. With only mild pain during, I truly started thinking I might pull it off on Sunday. Not only did I think I'd be able to cover 140.6 miles swimming, biking and running but I also thought I'd do it fast enough to qualify for Kona. I thought this because I had to. I'd put in too much work, sacrificed too much to not even be given the chance. I was obviously delusional. Everyone around me probably knew that but never let me feel that and I didn't let myself feel it at the time. At least not consciously.
Come race morning after having spent all but 20 minutes of my week doing absolutely nothing but resting and hoping that my back would be fine, I woke up to prepare for the task before me. And I felt pretty good. I still needed to gingerly bend over to pull up my pants but ignored that and told myself that I basically was just going to be lying on top of my bike for 112 miles - its not like I needed to support myself or otherwise "use" my back. A mildly crazy thought. Went about my normal race morning routine and started getting things set up. Much to my dismay, not only did my powermeter literally die on me that morning in transition but my garmin also locked up. For anyone not aware of what sort of tragedy this alone is - losing not only power but also HR on a course with as much climbing as canada - well, it really couldn't have gotten any worse. Even if I made it to the bike now, I had no idea how to pace myself over the 112 mile ride. I'd be riding blind. I freaked out for a few minutes but calmed and told myself that I'd "figure it out" - and by that I was literally planning on asking someone who seemed to be moving at a pace that I wanted to be moving at what sort of power they were producing and then stay at a legal distance behind them. Or so that was my plan.
I made it through the swim with only moderate pain and actually 15th in my AG, in an Ironman distance swim PR time even though I felt I took it pretty easy. Rushed through transition and swung my leg over my bike not knowing what to expect as I hadnt ridden it since before I hurt my back. From the very first pedal stroke I knew it was bad. Sharp pain shot through my lower back with each subsequent pedal stroke. I thought maybe it'd warm up/loosen up. But it only got worse. I struggled from the beginning and then while climbing one of the many climbs, my glute locked up which then sent my back into a spasm and I was done. All that work. All the sacrifices made. Time spent. For nothing. Or so thats the only place I could allow my mind to go while laying on the side of the road, on my back, staring up at the beautiful sky and snow covered mountain tops surrounding me. Such an amazing place to be on what was supposed to be the day that I put it all together - and I'm on the side of the road with a pain in my back that simply will not allow me to go on. At one point, surrounded by race volunteers, I even attempted to try to stand back up and get on my bike. Which of course proved futile.
I did my best to put on a happy face for the rest of Joelle and I's time in Whistler because it truly is a gorgeous place. But all I could think about was getting home and getting things "figured out". I've seen my ortho/PT twice since I've been back (returned on Friday). My back is so inflamed and locked up that I/they can't really do anything until the inflammation goes down. It was again agreed that its, most likely, a herniated disc and the spasm was a protective measure of a back that was under stress. The body's way of putting on the brakes. Enough is enough. I was in the office on Friday and again today. Still inflamed. Still incredibly tight. If its still like this by the beginning of next week it's agreed that I'll need an MRI to really look at whats going on. And then a cortisone shot or even epidural (BIG NEEDLES) to bring down the inflammation. While the timing probably couldn't have been worse it also, in a way, couldnt be better. My season was going to be winding down soon regardless of my injury - kona or no kona. I'll at least have the entire fall and winter if needed, to get things sorted. And while its still not clear about how to actually go about "fixing" things, I'll at least know more soon enough. And I'll have to be okay with that.
That was long. But needed for me. I needed to get this all down in writing. For those that made it through, let my experience be a lesson to you. Don't ignore those little niggles. Those little pains. They might not present themselves as real issues days or weeks or even months after. And they might not ever. But they also could end your season.
I'll get back on the bike soon enough. Lace up my shoes. Throw on my goggles. And I'll come back next year with even more fitness than this year. Because all that work this year was not wasted. It's not going anywhere. It's in the bank. It's just going to have to continue gaining interest a bit longer than I expected before I get to cash in on it.
I've admittedly gone pretty dark in the week or so after the race. My closest friends know whats going on - because they asked. Otherwise I probably wouldnt have shared anything with anyone. My coworkers know because I've got numerous doctors appointments on the calendar. I was disappointed, upset, angry, hurt, confused and everything in between. All because I simply didnt get to race. Which from the outside looking in seems like a pretty insignificant problem. And for the most part I'd agree. I've come to terms with triathlon being simply a hobby. It's a very serious hobby of mine. One that takes up anywhere from 10-20 hours of my week, all year. But it is only a hobby. It doesnt provide my income. And ultimately I'd prefer it not even define me as a person. But no matter, if you invest 8 months of your time working towards a singular goal, it's going to hurt when you're denied the chance to even compete. And hurt it did. On the day. During the days after. And even as I write this. But in the week or so since, with some very thoughtful words and poignant advice from close friends I've come to terms with everything. And more importantly, I was reminded why I do all of this anyway. I enjoy the process. Almost as much as the expression of all the work done on race day. Swimming, biking and running is my release. It's more than just part of my routine - it's part of me.
So what happened exactly? My DNF at Canada was probably a long time in the making. Unfortunately. And let the following be a lesson to anyone with lingering aches or pains. As much as 18 months ago or longer even, I started experiencing numbness and tingling down the back side of my right leg. It seemed to start on the right side of my low back with some tightness and occasional mild pain. And it would always be most noticeable while seated at my desk. When it first started, I'd adjust the height of my chair, angle of the seat of my chair, amount of lumbar support, etc. Nothing seemed to alleviate the issue - apart from just getting up and walking around or doing some light stretching. Some days it'd be worse than others but it was never debilitating in any way. Regardless, I went to get it checked out shortly after the numbness/tingling started. At the time, my ortho said it was probably a mild herniation in my low back but that he couldnt confirm without an MRI. So he ordered one. And, I of course, didn't go/get it done. Because these issues would come and go. And sometimes they'd go for long stretches at a time and I'd all but forget that I might even have a herniation at all. This was sometime in 2011 as far as I can remember. Yeah, I know.
Flash forward to 2013, and the numbness/tingling would still show up, but never was really that much of an issue. Just like it always had been. More of an annoyance. And just about the time I'd feel like it was becoming more than an annoyance, it'd go away. Either that or I just became so comfortable with the issues that it all just started to feel normal when it was being only mildly aggravating. And then when it'd really flare up would be when I noticed? I dont know. I did, about 8 months ago, switch to a $15 fold out aluminum chair because it seemed to alleviate things. At least more so than the fancy $1000 chair we're provided. So clearly, in hindsight, things werent okay. I'd also like to note that it didnt really seem like things would worsen with more hours spent SBRing. Meaning, the severity of the numbness/tingling didn't seem to be correlated with a bump in my training load. It sort of seemed at random. But I admittedly can be a bit aloof at connecting dots like that. When I get sick, I generally just chalk it up as just me getting sick. I never seem to think to much about why or how it might have happened.
Anyway, flash forward again to the Monday before I was to toe the line at Ironman Canada (two weeks from yesterday and 6 days from race day). I'd literally just wrapped up the biggest block of training of my life. My power and garmin files pointed to fitness I've never had. I was nailing workouts and recovering well. The changes in my training this year really seemed to have been making an impact on my fitness. I was excited. SO excited to express it all on that Sunday. Everything had gone so well. But as I was pulling our luggage out of our storage unit, my worst nightmare happened. I bent over to set down the last piece, after trying to have been mindful of moving around the heavier things in our unit just to get to the luggage, and as I went to raise back up, my lower back seized or spasmed or just otherwise erupted in pain. I immediately collapsed to the ground in a pain I've never felt. I couldn't move. Literally. I just sat there on all fours. Instantly my mind started racing. I crawled back into the apartment (storage unit is across the hall from our apt) and laid face up in the middle of the living room screaming in pain and not knowing what to do. I first tried to get a hold of my massage therapist. Actually, Joelle did. I couldn't do anything. She was out of town. Joelle then called her father whom thankfully is a Doctor and was able to prescribe me a muscle relaxer, prescription anti inflammatory and pain reliever. It was unfortunately late in the evening so we werent able to pick up any of the meds until the following morning. Joelle had to work from home on Tuesday because I had a hard time even making it to the bathroom. It was 36 hours before I could even walk standing straight up.
Once able to walk, I saw my massage therapist. I ended up seeing her 3 times before my flight on Thursday morning. And in my desperation, went to a chiropractor. I thought maybe something just needed to "release". Of course I was no better after. Thankfully, I had packed my bike away on Sunday evening but even getting to the airport seemed like a task that might not be possible. One of my good friends, Mike, volunteered not only to pick Joelle and I up at our place the night before our flight, but also let us stay at his place in Jersey City AND THEN drove us to the airport in the morning. (I might not even have been able to make the trip without his help so big thanks to you buddy!) The plane ride was pretty terrible. I was pumped full of muscle relaxers and anti inflammatory meds though, so I managed well enough. Upon arrival in Vancouver, my mom and her husband met us at the airport and again carted my bike and bags around. By that evening after walking around normally all day, I felt I needed to try/test if I could even run so Joelle, my brother and I set off on what turned out to be a 20 minute jog. With only mild pain during, I truly started thinking I might pull it off on Sunday. Not only did I think I'd be able to cover 140.6 miles swimming, biking and running but I also thought I'd do it fast enough to qualify for Kona. I thought this because I had to. I'd put in too much work, sacrificed too much to not even be given the chance. I was obviously delusional. Everyone around me probably knew that but never let me feel that and I didn't let myself feel it at the time. At least not consciously.
Come race morning after having spent all but 20 minutes of my week doing absolutely nothing but resting and hoping that my back would be fine, I woke up to prepare for the task before me. And I felt pretty good. I still needed to gingerly bend over to pull up my pants but ignored that and told myself that I basically was just going to be lying on top of my bike for 112 miles - its not like I needed to support myself or otherwise "use" my back. A mildly crazy thought. Went about my normal race morning routine and started getting things set up. Much to my dismay, not only did my powermeter literally die on me that morning in transition but my garmin also locked up. For anyone not aware of what sort of tragedy this alone is - losing not only power but also HR on a course with as much climbing as canada - well, it really couldn't have gotten any worse. Even if I made it to the bike now, I had no idea how to pace myself over the 112 mile ride. I'd be riding blind. I freaked out for a few minutes but calmed and told myself that I'd "figure it out" - and by that I was literally planning on asking someone who seemed to be moving at a pace that I wanted to be moving at what sort of power they were producing and then stay at a legal distance behind them. Or so that was my plan.
I made it through the swim with only moderate pain and actually 15th in my AG, in an Ironman distance swim PR time even though I felt I took it pretty easy. Rushed through transition and swung my leg over my bike not knowing what to expect as I hadnt ridden it since before I hurt my back. From the very first pedal stroke I knew it was bad. Sharp pain shot through my lower back with each subsequent pedal stroke. I thought maybe it'd warm up/loosen up. But it only got worse. I struggled from the beginning and then while climbing one of the many climbs, my glute locked up which then sent my back into a spasm and I was done. All that work. All the sacrifices made. Time spent. For nothing. Or so thats the only place I could allow my mind to go while laying on the side of the road, on my back, staring up at the beautiful sky and snow covered mountain tops surrounding me. Such an amazing place to be on what was supposed to be the day that I put it all together - and I'm on the side of the road with a pain in my back that simply will not allow me to go on. At one point, surrounded by race volunteers, I even attempted to try to stand back up and get on my bike. Which of course proved futile.
I did my best to put on a happy face for the rest of Joelle and I's time in Whistler because it truly is a gorgeous place. But all I could think about was getting home and getting things "figured out". I've seen my ortho/PT twice since I've been back (returned on Friday). My back is so inflamed and locked up that I/they can't really do anything until the inflammation goes down. It was again agreed that its, most likely, a herniated disc and the spasm was a protective measure of a back that was under stress. The body's way of putting on the brakes. Enough is enough. I was in the office on Friday and again today. Still inflamed. Still incredibly tight. If its still like this by the beginning of next week it's agreed that I'll need an MRI to really look at whats going on. And then a cortisone shot or even epidural (BIG NEEDLES) to bring down the inflammation. While the timing probably couldn't have been worse it also, in a way, couldnt be better. My season was going to be winding down soon regardless of my injury - kona or no kona. I'll at least have the entire fall and winter if needed, to get things sorted. And while its still not clear about how to actually go about "fixing" things, I'll at least know more soon enough. And I'll have to be okay with that.
That was long. But needed for me. I needed to get this all down in writing. For those that made it through, let my experience be a lesson to you. Don't ignore those little niggles. Those little pains. They might not present themselves as real issues days or weeks or even months after. And they might not ever. But they also could end your season.
I'll get back on the bike soon enough. Lace up my shoes. Throw on my goggles. And I'll come back next year with even more fitness than this year. Because all that work this year was not wasted. It's not going anywhere. It's in the bank. It's just going to have to continue gaining interest a bit longer than I expected before I get to cash in on it.
