I had the occasion today to recount a very stressful time in my life. In a lot of ways, it was good to put it out there so I can finally move on. At the same time, I was reminded of how much the experience impacted me. I ended up spending a good portion of the day feeling poorly. Sometimes we don't realize how much something bothers us. Avoiding our demons doesn't allow us to confront them. Confronting our demons can be stressful, in and of itself, but it can allow us to achieve closure. I think that my experience today reminded me that I still had some unfinished business. It also told me how much this one experience has affected me. Now it's behind me. We have all sorts of demons in our lives. It's so important to confront them. It's also important to be prepared for what comes with that. It's not easy. But it has to be done.
I think that one of the things that affected me so much today was the realization that there are so many things that are unfair in the world. It can be frustrating and disappointing. In some regards, that's just life. There are a lot of things in life that just aren't right. We can't change that, but we can focus on the good things that matter to us. In that respect, even our own demons are outweighed by any number of things. For that reason, our demons shouldn't matter that much. What does matter are the things that are important to us and that we enjoy.
Today was a lot rougher of a day than I had anticipated. But one thing that I've learned over my lifetime is that I'll wake up tomorrow feeling better than I did today. I'm already moving in the right direction, because I was able to spend my evening watching this adorable 4 year old go trick or treating! He even tried to face his demons at times, although some of those Halloween demons looked pretty scary. We all have our fears, but facing them matters at any age.
Thursday, October 31, 2019
Wednesday, October 30, 2019
My First Love
Tonight, I went back to my first love. We haven't had much of a relationship since she left me in 1994. We used to spend time together every morning, and some afternoons and evenings. When I was a young boy, I pretended to be sick so I could stay at home and spend time with my first love. I'd spend countless hours in pursuit of everything about baseball, the sport that meant so much to me. There are so many memories today. The 1968 World Series, and Jim Northrup's grand slam home run in game 6. Bobby Bond's first hit, a home run, in his first major league game. Denny McClain, the last pitcher to win 30 games in a season. Hank Aaron, breaking Babe Ruth's career home run record. The list goes on. I loved to practice Juan Marichal's high kick, though I didn't learn until years later about what he did to John Roseboro in August of 1965.
I used to know the league leaders in batting average and ERA. I knew who was in first, and who was in last. I knew the names of many of the players on many of the teams. I used to devour the sports section every morning. I watched games on television, and even listened to them on the radio. Even as life got more complex and busy, I kept up with the game. It was, after all, my first love. And then came 1994. The game of baseball left me, and many others, in 1994 with a season ending strike. Baseball was never the same for me. Prior to 1994, life began in the late winter and spring with the exhibition season, and April meant it was time for baseball. October was the World Series. Baseball was a consistent part of life. The strike of 1994 ended that. The American pastime was not a certainty. The game that I, and so many others, loved, was just another business that really didn't care about it's customers.
Tonight was the 7th game of the 2019 World Series. It just seemed like time to go back to my first love. I've actually been following the series, and have even watched parts of some of the games. Incredibly, the first six games were won by the visiting team. I don't think that this has ever happened. I know that it's never happened for an entire seven game series. Each game has been unique. Each team has had games where they looked pedestrian, and games where they looked unbeatable. Fortunately, tonight's game has been a nail biter. Everything that I love about the game has been highlighted. Watching the Astro's pitcher has been enjoyable in and of itself. Not only was he pitching incredibly well, but his fielding prowess is unparalleled for the pitching position. I love to watch excellence. The National's pitcher, who a day earlier couldn't lift his arm due to a pinched nerve, gamely pitched well, with flashes of brilliance, but not to the level of his counterpart.
Yet, the beauty of baseball is such that, the game isn't over until it's over. Through six innings, the Astro's looked to have the game in hand. But, there's still three innings left. Baseball can be a metaphor for life. One should never give up. And, just like that, a home run cuts a two run lead in half. The National's, true to their style, are having fun, even though they're still behind. It's great to see these adults having fun in a game that is meant to be fun. After all, it's called a game. It's supposed to bring joy to those who play it and those who watch it. And, just like that, another home run, and the National's are winning! That's baseball. That's one of the things that has pulled me back into watching the game. The result of tonight's game doesn't matter. It isn't about winning and losing. It's about the game. And that's why I love it.
I used to know the league leaders in batting average and ERA. I knew who was in first, and who was in last. I knew the names of many of the players on many of the teams. I used to devour the sports section every morning. I watched games on television, and even listened to them on the radio. Even as life got more complex and busy, I kept up with the game. It was, after all, my first love. And then came 1994. The game of baseball left me, and many others, in 1994 with a season ending strike. Baseball was never the same for me. Prior to 1994, life began in the late winter and spring with the exhibition season, and April meant it was time for baseball. October was the World Series. Baseball was a consistent part of life. The strike of 1994 ended that. The American pastime was not a certainty. The game that I, and so many others, loved, was just another business that really didn't care about it's customers.
Tonight was the 7th game of the 2019 World Series. It just seemed like time to go back to my first love. I've actually been following the series, and have even watched parts of some of the games. Incredibly, the first six games were won by the visiting team. I don't think that this has ever happened. I know that it's never happened for an entire seven game series. Each game has been unique. Each team has had games where they looked pedestrian, and games where they looked unbeatable. Fortunately, tonight's game has been a nail biter. Everything that I love about the game has been highlighted. Watching the Astro's pitcher has been enjoyable in and of itself. Not only was he pitching incredibly well, but his fielding prowess is unparalleled for the pitching position. I love to watch excellence. The National's pitcher, who a day earlier couldn't lift his arm due to a pinched nerve, gamely pitched well, with flashes of brilliance, but not to the level of his counterpart.
Yet, the beauty of baseball is such that, the game isn't over until it's over. Through six innings, the Astro's looked to have the game in hand. But, there's still three innings left. Baseball can be a metaphor for life. One should never give up. And, just like that, a home run cuts a two run lead in half. The National's, true to their style, are having fun, even though they're still behind. It's great to see these adults having fun in a game that is meant to be fun. After all, it's called a game. It's supposed to bring joy to those who play it and those who watch it. And, just like that, another home run, and the National's are winning! That's baseball. That's one of the things that has pulled me back into watching the game. The result of tonight's game doesn't matter. It isn't about winning and losing. It's about the game. And that's why I love it.
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
Respect & Ego
I've been doing some more reflecting and today the topic of respect and ego came to me. When I was in College, I was doing research in a lab during the summer and encountered a graduate student who was very disrespectful to me. It bothered me so much that I decided to quit. I just didn't think it was either worth it, or healthy, to expose myself to that sort of bullying behavior. When I was a Geriatric Fellow, I decided to leave the program and go to work for Kaiser. A faculty member threatened me with all sorts of negative actions. I did my research and found none of the threats to be true or possible. I actually briefly threatened to obtain an attorney to respond to the threats, but found a ton of support from the rest of the faculty, and never had to resort to such a response. I've encountered bullies in my life along the way. Sometimes, it's possible to walk away. Sometimes, I've just had to put up with it until it went away. One thing is for sure, it never feels good. I was in a job a few years ago where I encountered some significantly disrespectful behavior towards me and the things I believed most passionately in. I chose to leave, rather than appear to enable that type of treatment.
Is walking away from someone who disrespects you giving up? Is it cowardly? Is it productive? Or, is it a healthy response to unhealthy treatment? I've been looking back at my last job recently. I now remember how a pattern of disrespect began at a certain point in time. I was aware of how I was being treated. It was very painful for me, and I remember many of those circumstances vividly. Why didn't I just walk away? I had ample opportunity to do so. However, I felt at the time that I had an opportunity to do something good for the people that have mattered to me the most over my career. That is the vulnerable and frail older adult population.
One of the interesting things that I noted during this period of time was that I often rationalized not quitting by saying that I didn't want to let my ego make decisions for me. I felt that I should be able to put up with the bullying and disrespect. I somehow convinced myself that giving up and leaving would be because I'd be giving in to my ego. Somehow, I convinced myself that would be wrong. As I look back, I have to be concerned that I was trying to be too intellectually pure. First of all, we all have an ego. Without our egos, we'd never get anything done. There's not only nothing wrong with having an ego, but in fact, egos are important. Ego allows me to believe in myself, which allows me to accomplish things I might not otherwise accomplish. It's certainly a balancing act.
How much do you put up with when you're being bullied and disrespected? What's the outcome you're looking for? What is the impact on your health and wellbeing? I can definitely say that what I went through was not healthy. There is no question in my mind that the months that I lived through being treated horribly did me no favors. I've spent most of this year recovering from it. No small part of the pain and damage was due to the feeling of being disrespected. Was it harmful to my ego? Maybe. But not out of vanity. Our ego exists to protect us. For some people, it is hyper vigilant and overstated. For others, it's just right. I hope that my ego is just right.
One thing is certain. A few years ago when I walked away from a job because I was disrespected, it felt right. I've never doubted that decision, and I didn't have to suffer needlessly. This last time, I allowed myself to suffer for quite awhile. Ironically, in the end, my reason for leaving had nothing to do with my ego. In some ways, it's the one thing that I've never achieved closure on. I still have some regrets over not quitting due to the disrespect and bullying. On the other hand, I've learned that there's no point in having regrets. So, I'll continue to try to balance the need for respect and how that plays into my ego. But, in a good way!
Is walking away from someone who disrespects you giving up? Is it cowardly? Is it productive? Or, is it a healthy response to unhealthy treatment? I've been looking back at my last job recently. I now remember how a pattern of disrespect began at a certain point in time. I was aware of how I was being treated. It was very painful for me, and I remember many of those circumstances vividly. Why didn't I just walk away? I had ample opportunity to do so. However, I felt at the time that I had an opportunity to do something good for the people that have mattered to me the most over my career. That is the vulnerable and frail older adult population.
One of the interesting things that I noted during this period of time was that I often rationalized not quitting by saying that I didn't want to let my ego make decisions for me. I felt that I should be able to put up with the bullying and disrespect. I somehow convinced myself that giving up and leaving would be because I'd be giving in to my ego. Somehow, I convinced myself that would be wrong. As I look back, I have to be concerned that I was trying to be too intellectually pure. First of all, we all have an ego. Without our egos, we'd never get anything done. There's not only nothing wrong with having an ego, but in fact, egos are important. Ego allows me to believe in myself, which allows me to accomplish things I might not otherwise accomplish. It's certainly a balancing act.
How much do you put up with when you're being bullied and disrespected? What's the outcome you're looking for? What is the impact on your health and wellbeing? I can definitely say that what I went through was not healthy. There is no question in my mind that the months that I lived through being treated horribly did me no favors. I've spent most of this year recovering from it. No small part of the pain and damage was due to the feeling of being disrespected. Was it harmful to my ego? Maybe. But not out of vanity. Our ego exists to protect us. For some people, it is hyper vigilant and overstated. For others, it's just right. I hope that my ego is just right.
One thing is certain. A few years ago when I walked away from a job because I was disrespected, it felt right. I've never doubted that decision, and I didn't have to suffer needlessly. This last time, I allowed myself to suffer for quite awhile. Ironically, in the end, my reason for leaving had nothing to do with my ego. In some ways, it's the one thing that I've never achieved closure on. I still have some regrets over not quitting due to the disrespect and bullying. On the other hand, I've learned that there's no point in having regrets. So, I'll continue to try to balance the need for respect and how that plays into my ego. But, in a good way!
Monday, October 28, 2019
On the Right Track
I realized today how focused I was for the first nine months of the year on Ironman training. I've been planning to go back to work, but for the last couple of months there was really one thing, and only one thing on my mind. Kona. But Kona is over. And my life is moving on. I had a meeting today to discuss my upcoming job, and it felt right! I remembered how I felt a few months ago when I was offered the position.
When I was flying home from Kona I was talking to a top older age grouper who was also retired. He asked, "what else would I do?" when it came to spending time in his life. While I lived that approach for nine months, it isn't who I am. I know that now. My purpose in life has and will always be to help older adults to live their lives to the fullest. Ironman has given me the opportunity to show what can be done as we age, but the fact that I was more excited by the 75 year old that finished just ahead of me than I was for myself, is a reminder as to what really matters to me!
When I was flying home from Kona I was talking to a top older age grouper who was also retired. He asked, "what else would I do?" when it came to spending time in his life. While I lived that approach for nine months, it isn't who I am. I know that now. My purpose in life has and will always be to help older adults to live their lives to the fullest. Ironman has given me the opportunity to show what can be done as we age, but the fact that I was more excited by the 75 year old that finished just ahead of me than I was for myself, is a reminder as to what really matters to me!
It's time to move forward, with a clear focus consistent with my purpose. The great thing is that was so clear to me today. I know that I'm on the right track. I know what I want to be doing, and where I want to be doing it!
Sunday, October 27, 2019
Change
Most people don't like change. I can remember many the times that I suggested changes to people who worked for me. It usually got a wary response. At the same time, change is the one constant in the world. Nothing is static. My good friend and mentor, Ray, used to say, "if you're not moving forward, you're moving backward." Moving forward requires change. Embracing change is much easier to handle than fighting against it.
I've spent the last 9 months focused on doing the Ironman in Kona. It was truly my singular focus. It impacted other things in my life. That was my choice, and I'm glad I chose to do it that way. I will always know that I gave my dream everything I had. Now, it's time for a change. I've been blogging about what those changes might look like, and they're crystallizing for me.
I got a surprise the other day, when I found out that my cholesterol and triglycerides were higher than ever. I would have "thought" that all of my exercise would have had some impact. But, I really hadn't "thought" about it. I had "hoped" it would make a difference. The more that I think about it, the more I realize that my singular focus on training allowed me to do something that might not have been healthy for me. Over the past nine months, I've liberalized my intake of simple sugars, in order to make sure that I could maintain the type of rigorous training program that I was engaging in. In retrospect, it might have been the wrong choice. Of course, I can't go back and change the past. But, i am changing the future. As of two days ago, I've eliminated simple sugars from my diet.
As a physician and athlete, I'm actually fascinated by what happened. I realize that it's possible to train 20 hours a week, and not burn all of the sugar that I was putting into my body. Some of that sugar went into the production of triglycerides. In some ways, my efforts to become fat adapted over the past few years may have boomeranged on me. It's probable that the sugar I was taking during exercise wasn't necessary. I was taking in too much.
I have a change to enact and manage over the next three months. No gels, no carbohydrate drinks. I'll go back to my good fat, good protein, no simple carbohydrate diet that I'd been on previously. I'll do my exercise in the morning before eating anything, and without any calories. I'm only going to be working out for 45-60 minutes at a time, so this isn't an issue. Even if I was doing a longer workout, it would be an issue. I know that. This is a pretty easy change for me to embrace.
I've spent the last 9 months focused on doing the Ironman in Kona. It was truly my singular focus. It impacted other things in my life. That was my choice, and I'm glad I chose to do it that way. I will always know that I gave my dream everything I had. Now, it's time for a change. I've been blogging about what those changes might look like, and they're crystallizing for me.
I got a surprise the other day, when I found out that my cholesterol and triglycerides were higher than ever. I would have "thought" that all of my exercise would have had some impact. But, I really hadn't "thought" about it. I had "hoped" it would make a difference. The more that I think about it, the more I realize that my singular focus on training allowed me to do something that might not have been healthy for me. Over the past nine months, I've liberalized my intake of simple sugars, in order to make sure that I could maintain the type of rigorous training program that I was engaging in. In retrospect, it might have been the wrong choice. Of course, I can't go back and change the past. But, i am changing the future. As of two days ago, I've eliminated simple sugars from my diet.
As a physician and athlete, I'm actually fascinated by what happened. I realize that it's possible to train 20 hours a week, and not burn all of the sugar that I was putting into my body. Some of that sugar went into the production of triglycerides. In some ways, my efforts to become fat adapted over the past few years may have boomeranged on me. It's probable that the sugar I was taking during exercise wasn't necessary. I was taking in too much.
I have a change to enact and manage over the next three months. No gels, no carbohydrate drinks. I'll go back to my good fat, good protein, no simple carbohydrate diet that I'd been on previously. I'll do my exercise in the morning before eating anything, and without any calories. I'm only going to be working out for 45-60 minutes at a time, so this isn't an issue. Even if I was doing a longer workout, it would be an issue. I know that. This is a pretty easy change for me to embrace.
Saturday, October 26, 2019
Our Various "Families"
I'm in Florida today, speaking at the Florida Medical Directors Association Annual Meeting. I haven't given my talk yet, but the meeting as already been worth it. I've been a Geriatrician for the past thirty years, and during that time I've made a lot of good friends. We share a common bond, insofar as we've dedicated our professional lives to improving the health and wellbeing of older adults. It always brings about good feelings when you get to spend time with kindred spirits. This is always one of the experiences that serves to get me inspired or fired up even more than I already am about the thing I'm most passionate about. The importance of having a "family" of people who share what matters to you is really important.
One of my challenges, is when I come into contact with others who share my passion and commitment, it does tend to energize the workaholic in me. I want to do things. I want to help others do things. Etc., etc.. I admit, I was always one of those kids in school with my hand raised, wanting to answer a question. I'm not a lot different in "real life." Seeing old friends and colleagues pushes that button.
It's interesting that I used the word "family" to describe the people I saw today. We all have different families in our lives. Obviously, we have our immediate family, and extended families to varying degrees. But we also make new families in our work and extracurricular lives. I feel like I have a triathlon family. I can easily get lost in talking about running, biking and swimming with these folks. I feel at home in some ways with my triathlon family. I definitely have my Geriatrics family. These are the people that I saw today. We are comfortable talking about anything Geriatrics related. It's always fun to hear similar refrains and responses.
Our different "families" give us different feelings and inspire different reactions. My professional family makes me want to do things in that world. To some degree, that gets my cortisol going, which can be helpful, especially when it's time for me to give my talk today. On the other hand, that cortisol surge has other physiologic manifestations. My triathlon family inspires me to exercise. Enough said. My immediate family makes me feel love and happiness. Those are good things.
One of my challenges, is when I come into contact with others who share my passion and commitment, it does tend to energize the workaholic in me. I want to do things. I want to help others do things. Etc., etc.. I admit, I was always one of those kids in school with my hand raised, wanting to answer a question. I'm not a lot different in "real life." Seeing old friends and colleagues pushes that button.
It's interesting that I used the word "family" to describe the people I saw today. We all have different families in our lives. Obviously, we have our immediate family, and extended families to varying degrees. But we also make new families in our work and extracurricular lives. I feel like I have a triathlon family. I can easily get lost in talking about running, biking and swimming with these folks. I feel at home in some ways with my triathlon family. I definitely have my Geriatrics family. These are the people that I saw today. We are comfortable talking about anything Geriatrics related. It's always fun to hear similar refrains and responses.
Our different "families" give us different feelings and inspire different reactions. My professional family makes me want to do things in that world. To some degree, that gets my cortisol going, which can be helpful, especially when it's time for me to give my talk today. On the other hand, that cortisol surge has other physiologic manifestations. My triathlon family inspires me to exercise. Enough said. My immediate family makes me feel love and happiness. Those are good things.
Friday, October 25, 2019
Catharsis
I get the most work done while on an airplane. There are no distractions, and I'm stuck in one place for 4-5 hours. Today, I decided to write about my experiences from my job last year. I just started to write. I wrote about how I came to get the job, how things started out, the challenges that I encountered and the efforts I took to bring change to a very dysfunctional organization. Before I knew it, I was deep into reliving what I learned and how I acted on it. One of the greatest things that sitting and writing brought to me was a realization of what I actually accomplished. I've struggled a lot with what I ultimately considered a failure. Upon reflection, however, I realize that I accomplished far more than I realized, and perhaps more than anyone could have ever expected. I got close to the summit, but then fell off the cliff and down the mountain.
I will always compare life to Ironman, and I always judge my races on the effort I give. Results, when they occur, can be fleeting. There is often a lot that we can't control. There was a lot of that in this job. I just kept writing, and before I knew it, I'd written nearly 3,000 words. And, I was only partially done! I finally got tired, but instead of stopping, I made notes of the things that I hadn't written about yet that I wanted to cover another time. Maybe on the flight home on Sunday?
I was pleasantly surprised by the feeling of catharsis that was associated with writing about my experience. I've spent a lot of time over the past year thinking about my experiences. Some of that thinking was associated with regret, some of it with anger, and a lot of it with self doubt. I've been doing better as of late, so perhaps that is why today was possible. I had not preconceived notions as to what I was writing about. I just let it come to me.
There are a lot of lessons for me in this, as I work on determining the next chapter of my life. I've definitely had therapists who suggest just sitting down and writing, letting my thoughts spill out onto the page. I've done that at times, and I have to say that it's often been helpful. This was a different experience. I've thought that I could actually write a book about my experiences. I don't know if I want to do that for a lot of reasons, but just writing for myself was meaningful, and cathartic.
I will always compare life to Ironman, and I always judge my races on the effort I give. Results, when they occur, can be fleeting. There is often a lot that we can't control. There was a lot of that in this job. I just kept writing, and before I knew it, I'd written nearly 3,000 words. And, I was only partially done! I finally got tired, but instead of stopping, I made notes of the things that I hadn't written about yet that I wanted to cover another time. Maybe on the flight home on Sunday?
I was pleasantly surprised by the feeling of catharsis that was associated with writing about my experience. I've spent a lot of time over the past year thinking about my experiences. Some of that thinking was associated with regret, some of it with anger, and a lot of it with self doubt. I've been doing better as of late, so perhaps that is why today was possible. I had not preconceived notions as to what I was writing about. I just let it come to me.
There are a lot of lessons for me in this, as I work on determining the next chapter of my life. I've definitely had therapists who suggest just sitting down and writing, letting my thoughts spill out onto the page. I've done that at times, and I have to say that it's often been helpful. This was a different experience. I've thought that I could actually write a book about my experiences. I don't know if I want to do that for a lot of reasons, but just writing for myself was meaningful, and cathartic.
Thursday, October 24, 2019
Healthy Choices
I did something today that I haven't done in nearly 10 years. I went to see a doctor! I've been thinking about doing this for several years, but just never took the initiative. Somehow, checking Kona off my bucket list, and turning sixty, inspired me to stop being my own doctor. It was not an easy decision. I've seen too much in my career, and I honestly have trouble trusting physicians. I know that sounds scary to most people, but the fact of the matter is that I know my body better than anyone else. However, it really isn't smart to treat oneself. So today, I found myself a primary care physician. I went online and tried to guess the right person. Fortunately, my instincts were good!
When a physician responds to a question about a particular test by stating that the results won't impact treatment based on my goals and preferences, you're on the right track. I'm definitely a therapeutic nihilist, and I'm skeptical of many care and treatment approaches in today's medical world. My Ironman training has given me a unique insight into how my body feels and when something doesn't seem to fit.
Two days before I left for Kona, my resting HR was 42 and my HRV (heart rate variability) was 93. Three days later, the morning I did the 10K, my first full day in Kona, my resting HR was 45 and My HRV was 83. I assumed this was the humidity, but it was probably my allergies starting up. I knew something wasn't quite right, and the numbers corroborated it. The next day my resting HR was 55 and my HRV was 69. I still did the swim and actually did ok. By the next day, I thought I had a full blown cold (in retrospect, I think it was a full blown allergy attack, but who knows). My resting HR was 63 and my HRV was 63. Theoretically, I knew all this without getting the numbers, but it's always good to get corroboration.
When I saw the doctor today, my resting heart rate was 42. It was a sign. I'm not feeling 100%, but I'm getting closer. It doesn't help that we have poor air quality from local fires, which don't help my allergies and upper respiratory tract function. I will always wonder how I would have performed in Kona if I'd not been feeling the way I did. However, I still know that I gave the day the effort it deserved and performed to the best of my abilities. In fact, in many ways, it was the ultimate test of my will to compete.
It will be interesting to see the results of my blood work and other tests that I'm getting. Since I've been my own doctor for so long, I tend to make my own assumptions. I told my new doctor that I'm giving them that responsibility from now on. That's a good thing. In the meantime, I'll continue to eat well and exercise regularly. I'll also continue to try to bring meditation into my life and keep a healthy balance of work and play. It's all about making healthy choices.
When a physician responds to a question about a particular test by stating that the results won't impact treatment based on my goals and preferences, you're on the right track. I'm definitely a therapeutic nihilist, and I'm skeptical of many care and treatment approaches in today's medical world. My Ironman training has given me a unique insight into how my body feels and when something doesn't seem to fit.
Two days before I left for Kona, my resting HR was 42 and my HRV (heart rate variability) was 93. Three days later, the morning I did the 10K, my first full day in Kona, my resting HR was 45 and My HRV was 83. I assumed this was the humidity, but it was probably my allergies starting up. I knew something wasn't quite right, and the numbers corroborated it. The next day my resting HR was 55 and my HRV was 69. I still did the swim and actually did ok. By the next day, I thought I had a full blown cold (in retrospect, I think it was a full blown allergy attack, but who knows). My resting HR was 63 and my HRV was 63. Theoretically, I knew all this without getting the numbers, but it's always good to get corroboration.
When I saw the doctor today, my resting heart rate was 42. It was a sign. I'm not feeling 100%, but I'm getting closer. It doesn't help that we have poor air quality from local fires, which don't help my allergies and upper respiratory tract function. I will always wonder how I would have performed in Kona if I'd not been feeling the way I did. However, I still know that I gave the day the effort it deserved and performed to the best of my abilities. In fact, in many ways, it was the ultimate test of my will to compete.
It will be interesting to see the results of my blood work and other tests that I'm getting. Since I've been my own doctor for so long, I tend to make my own assumptions. I told my new doctor that I'm giving them that responsibility from now on. That's a good thing. In the meantime, I'll continue to eat well and exercise regularly. I'll also continue to try to bring meditation into my life and keep a healthy balance of work and play. It's all about making healthy choices.
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
How to Message
I've made a dedicated attempt this year to message some of the things I'm most passionate about. I hope that my writing has improved, and it's been a continuous learning process. I have some things that are very important to me, and as I move forward, I will probably strive to limit my messaging to one topic. There are a lot of reasons, but the most important is time and focus. I tend to add other things to do around my messaging, and that really can't be in the coming year.
My number one message for many years has been promoting the field of Geriatrics and the need for reforming graduate medical education (GME). If I'm the only one messaging this, it's not ever going to get anywhere. One of my goals needs to be exciting a new generation of Geriatricians to message this topic. I need to give that some thought.
My recent messaging has focused on what I learned as the CEO overseeing a nearly billion dollar nursing home operation. My background and experience makes me singularly unique in my understanding of this complex field. While I may be alone in what I'm trying to message, at least it makes sense, as I was truly alone in my position. I've been working on an article that I've been refining that tries to message what I learned from this experience. I've made a number of outreach attempts to share my knowledge with others who are trying to make a difference. I think that I've got to a point that is manageable, and can continue to carry on this message.
Finally, messaging the textbook will certainly be consistent with my goals and my efforts. It also brings me back to my first messaging love, promoting the field of Geriatrics. At least I can do it from a position of strength, insofar as promoting the person-centered approach to Geriatrics that I believe so much in. The key to effective messaging is also maintaining a focus. That seems to be a common thread in most things that I've been writing about, whether it be life, training, or work.
My number one message for many years has been promoting the field of Geriatrics and the need for reforming graduate medical education (GME). If I'm the only one messaging this, it's not ever going to get anywhere. One of my goals needs to be exciting a new generation of Geriatricians to message this topic. I need to give that some thought.
My recent messaging has focused on what I learned as the CEO overseeing a nearly billion dollar nursing home operation. My background and experience makes me singularly unique in my understanding of this complex field. While I may be alone in what I'm trying to message, at least it makes sense, as I was truly alone in my position. I've been working on an article that I've been refining that tries to message what I learned from this experience. I've made a number of outreach attempts to share my knowledge with others who are trying to make a difference. I think that I've got to a point that is manageable, and can continue to carry on this message.
Finally, messaging the textbook will certainly be consistent with my goals and my efforts. It also brings me back to my first messaging love, promoting the field of Geriatrics. At least I can do it from a position of strength, insofar as promoting the person-centered approach to Geriatrics that I believe so much in. The key to effective messaging is also maintaining a focus. That seems to be a common thread in most things that I've been writing about, whether it be life, training, or work.
Tuesday, October 22, 2019
Taking a Break
There are some days where I really don't feel like doing much of anything. Today ended up being one of those "lazy" days. I did start writing the preface to the textbook that I'm editing. I actually realized that I needed to do that during my run this morning. Yes, I ran. Not very far, or for very long. In fact, I ran and walked. My blisters have healed, my legs feel fine, but my mind and body are still tired. So, it was a good day to take a break.
It's funny how there are some days where I just don't do much of anything. Today was one of them. It's healthy, and it's ok. I briefly asked myself how I'd feel if every day was like this. I didn't have to wait long for the answer, because I know it. I'd be unhappy. I started down this path once before, after I retired. Unfortunately, my focus wasn't clear and I ended up getting busy with things that really weren't in fitting with who I am or what I want to do. I'm not going to let that happen again.
Whether I'm training for a triathlon, or working on a book, it's good to take a break. In fact, when I was in college, I'd study like crazy for a defined period of time, and then I'd take a break. It's always been my modus operandi. It's actually true that the human brain is the largest utilizer of calories in the body. At least I think it's true, as I must have read that somewhere. It certainly feels like it sometimes. My brain hasn't been feeling like doing much as I've been fighting these allergies, but it feels like it's starting to turn around. In the meantime, I'll just take a break when I need to.
It's funny how there are some days where I just don't do much of anything. Today was one of them. It's healthy, and it's ok. I briefly asked myself how I'd feel if every day was like this. I didn't have to wait long for the answer, because I know it. I'd be unhappy. I started down this path once before, after I retired. Unfortunately, my focus wasn't clear and I ended up getting busy with things that really weren't in fitting with who I am or what I want to do. I'm not going to let that happen again.
Whether I'm training for a triathlon, or working on a book, it's good to take a break. In fact, when I was in college, I'd study like crazy for a defined period of time, and then I'd take a break. It's always been my modus operandi. It's actually true that the human brain is the largest utilizer of calories in the body. At least I think it's true, as I must have read that somewhere. It certainly feels like it sometimes. My brain hasn't been feeling like doing much as I've been fighting these allergies, but it feels like it's starting to turn around. In the meantime, I'll just take a break when I need to.
Monday, October 21, 2019
The Next Chapter
One year ago, I was in the hardest, most challenging, stressful and meaningful job of my life. I knew what I wanted to do, I knew the direction I was going in. I didn't know that within two weeks, the sky would fall on me. As I recovered from this experience, I found a singular focus in my journey to Kona. This focus gave me purpose for most of this year. As I persevered on the lava fields of Kona nine days ago, certain things started to become clear. I knew that I was doing my last full Ironman for awhile (I've promised myself not to even consider another full Ironman until I'm 65). I knew that going forward my training would be purely about my health and fitness. I'll still race shorter distances, and I'll be working on my 5K speed, but that's because I like having a goal for my fitness endeavors. That's only a small portion of what makes me who I am. My next chapter will need to fit with my purpose and what matters most to me. At the same time, I need to maintain balance in my life, which, being a workaholic, is something I've long struggled with.
Aside from focusing on my fitness, I've written about my focus on my wife and family. Supporting my wife in accomplishing her dreams will have the highest priority in my daily life. That must be my north star. It was my epiphany in Kona, and it's something that I've definitely thought about over the last several years. Why haven't I done it before? Honestly, because my wife is one of the most selfless people that I know, and she will always be there for other family members without regard to herself. If I don't take the position of making her dreams my ultimate focus, it probably won't happen. Nevertheless, this is not a 24 hour a day role for me. It's my highest priority, but definitely allows me time to focus on whatever else matters to me. Which brings me back to that question.
I have a number of interests, which has long been my challenge. I tend to take on too many things. I've always strived to want to "make a difference." The internet and social media has altered the landscape of how we can be engaged on a daily basis, and this has fed into my desire to wanting to change the way things are, particularly as they relate to the health and wellbeing of older adults. Fortunately, the greatest opportunity to make this difference has come my way in the past year and a half. I'm the editor-in-chief of a major Geriatric Medical textbook. It is an honor, a privilege and an opportunity to leave my stamp on the field that means so much to me.
Instead of monitoring social media in order to make my case for what I believe in, the time that I would spend on that, will be spent on my textbook. Instead of looking for ways to influence the politics of healthcare, the time that I would spend on that, will be spent on my textbook. This is actually quite simple. Over the course of the next few years, this will be my single personal priority. This is my next chapter.
Aside from focusing on my fitness, I've written about my focus on my wife and family. Supporting my wife in accomplishing her dreams will have the highest priority in my daily life. That must be my north star. It was my epiphany in Kona, and it's something that I've definitely thought about over the last several years. Why haven't I done it before? Honestly, because my wife is one of the most selfless people that I know, and she will always be there for other family members without regard to herself. If I don't take the position of making her dreams my ultimate focus, it probably won't happen. Nevertheless, this is not a 24 hour a day role for me. It's my highest priority, but definitely allows me time to focus on whatever else matters to me. Which brings me back to that question.
I have a number of interests, which has long been my challenge. I tend to take on too many things. I've always strived to want to "make a difference." The internet and social media has altered the landscape of how we can be engaged on a daily basis, and this has fed into my desire to wanting to change the way things are, particularly as they relate to the health and wellbeing of older adults. Fortunately, the greatest opportunity to make this difference has come my way in the past year and a half. I'm the editor-in-chief of a major Geriatric Medical textbook. It is an honor, a privilege and an opportunity to leave my stamp on the field that means so much to me.
Instead of monitoring social media in order to make my case for what I believe in, the time that I would spend on that, will be spent on my textbook. Instead of looking for ways to influence the politics of healthcare, the time that I would spend on that, will be spent on my textbook. This is actually quite simple. Over the course of the next few years, this will be my single personal priority. This is my next chapter.
Sunday, October 20, 2019
The Impact of Dehumanization
I was listening to a radio show this morning and the topic of dehumanization came up. Apparently, they've studied this concept within the context of sports teams. Of interest, sports fans can be very "tribal," in ways that are separate from having political, religious or ethnic differences. This tribalism, in the extreme can lead to violence. The concept is that dehumanizing others makes it easier to harm them. I looked up some of the literature on this, and a lot of the evidence has been developed in relationship to genocide. It doesn't take any more than reading "Night," by Elie Wiesel, to gain a comprehension of the impact of dehumanization. Any student of the Holocaust knows about the systematic dehumanization that took place. I'd never thought about it in the context of sports fans, but it makes sense. The most rabid sports fans will make statements about their opponents fans that can easily be construed as dehumanizing. We are all aware of this level of fandom leading to violence. It's not common, which we can be thankful for.
Politics has become a major place for dehumanizing behavior. I think that we all must be aware of what we say about those who disagree with us. Comments that make those who disagree with us less human do nothing to move effective discourse forward. Obviously, we have a president who is famous for using dehumanizing statements, whether it's about political opponents, those who disagree with him, or groups he is spotlighting to engender fear in others. How can we use this knowledge?
I often like to use Ghandi as an example of someone whose approach was successful. Obviously, Ghandi wouldn't have succeed in Nazi Germany, but that doesn't make his approach inherently wrong. His claim to fame was non-violence, but I think you'd also find that he probably didn't speak in a dehumanizing manner. Hillary Clinton's use of the term "deplorable's" didn't help her candidacy. Passing judgment on others generally doesn't lead to progress. Pointing out what what is incorrect with what they espouse should be a more effective means of communication. I will be more cognizant of how I disagree with those who espouse things that I dislike or disagree with. I'll endeavor to stick to the facts, rather than try to disparage the individual. We need to be aware of the impact of dehumanization, no matter how minor it may seem.
Politics has become a major place for dehumanizing behavior. I think that we all must be aware of what we say about those who disagree with us. Comments that make those who disagree with us less human do nothing to move effective discourse forward. Obviously, we have a president who is famous for using dehumanizing statements, whether it's about political opponents, those who disagree with him, or groups he is spotlighting to engender fear in others. How can we use this knowledge?
I often like to use Ghandi as an example of someone whose approach was successful. Obviously, Ghandi wouldn't have succeed in Nazi Germany, but that doesn't make his approach inherently wrong. His claim to fame was non-violence, but I think you'd also find that he probably didn't speak in a dehumanizing manner. Hillary Clinton's use of the term "deplorable's" didn't help her candidacy. Passing judgment on others generally doesn't lead to progress. Pointing out what what is incorrect with what they espouse should be a more effective means of communication. I will be more cognizant of how I disagree with those who espouse things that I dislike or disagree with. I'll endeavor to stick to the facts, rather than try to disparage the individual. We need to be aware of the impact of dehumanization, no matter how minor it may seem.
Saturday, October 19, 2019
Being in the Moment, at 4 Years of Age!
My grandson had his fourth birthday party today, so I got to observe a group of 3 and 4 year olds. It struck me, as it has whenever I spend time with my grandson, that these kids understand being in the moment! Sometimes, that creates problems. They want whatever they want at the moment, and they can't have it, they have a meltdown. On the other hand, if you can successfully (and quickly) transition them to the next task, you can maintain them in a very happy state! Trying to fight with them to get them out of the moment gets you a very expected result. My wife and I have come to realize this, and endeavor not to fight with the result, and to be more accepting. At four years of age, there's only so much that a kid can be expected to comprehend.
The more I think about it, the more I think that there's something to be learned from a four year old. Of course, the focal point is that of being in the moment. It's about appreciating and enjoying what one is doing in real time. All too often, we spend our time thinking about what we could have done, or what we will do, instead of truly appreciating what we are doing. Obviously, as an ironman athlete, I often talk about being in the moment in the context of ironman. I can truly speak to the fact that last week, in Kona, I am proud of the fact that I stayed in the moment for most of the day. I probably wouldn't have survived the day, if I hadn't.
I'm having such a great time watching my grandson grow up. There's nothing I enjoy more than seeing the joy in his eyes when he's doing something that he loves. There's also something about enjoying what you're doing, when you're doing it. It's all too easy to let our minds wander to regret over things past, or to start thinking about what's next. In Kona, it would have been easy for me to spend time during my 7 hour and 19 minute bike ride worrying about how I was going to make it on the run. Fortunately, I never did that. It was nice to start the run and to be pleasantly surprised that my legs felt good. That allowed me to run for nearly 12 miles, before my legs didn't feel good. Even then, intermittently, I would suspend how I felt and give it another try. That allowed me to do the best I could do on that one day. Oh, to be four years old!
The more I think about it, the more I think that there's something to be learned from a four year old. Of course, the focal point is that of being in the moment. It's about appreciating and enjoying what one is doing in real time. All too often, we spend our time thinking about what we could have done, or what we will do, instead of truly appreciating what we are doing. Obviously, as an ironman athlete, I often talk about being in the moment in the context of ironman. I can truly speak to the fact that last week, in Kona, I am proud of the fact that I stayed in the moment for most of the day. I probably wouldn't have survived the day, if I hadn't.
I'm having such a great time watching my grandson grow up. There's nothing I enjoy more than seeing the joy in his eyes when he's doing something that he loves. There's also something about enjoying what you're doing, when you're doing it. It's all too easy to let our minds wander to regret over things past, or to start thinking about what's next. In Kona, it would have been easy for me to spend time during my 7 hour and 19 minute bike ride worrying about how I was going to make it on the run. Fortunately, I never did that. It was nice to start the run and to be pleasantly surprised that my legs felt good. That allowed me to run for nearly 12 miles, before my legs didn't feel good. Even then, intermittently, I would suspend how I felt and give it another try. That allowed me to do the best I could do on that one day. Oh, to be four years old!
Friday, October 18, 2019
Hitting the Bottom
It's been six days since Kona, and I woke up early this morning feeling like my throat was constricting (from my allergies). I was quite worried, until I remembered that I was about one week out from my Ironman. It is very typical for me to bottom out about a week after an ironman. If I go back to the beginning of the year, I was in a really bad place for awhile after doing the 100 mile Snowdrop event. It's quite common for me to go through a phase where I start thinking that I've got a terminal illness. I went swimming yesterday and couldn't resist doing 100 yards hard. 100 yards. 1 minute and 26 seconds. It was a mistake. I was wiped out the rest of the day. My wife properly asks why we do such a thing to our bodies. To a degree, she's correct. On the other hand, as I recover, I will be even fitter than I was before. I just need to be patient.
No matter how many times I go through this, I typically forget about hitting the bottom, until it actually happens. I don't fully understand the physiology of this, but it certainly may be adrenal in nature. My allergies and sinus infection aren't helping, although on a positive note, I think it's now mostly the allergies. I've always been prone to having more allergies when I'm very fatigued, which most likely relates to a decrease in my immune system function from training and, in this case, after a major race.
Of interest, I've gone back and forth over the years with supplements, and wonder if they might help. Of course, that's my body talking at this moment. As soon as I feel better, it won't matter as much. It's also very humbling to hit the bottom. I can only wonder what people who suffer from any number of chronic illnesses feel like at a given moment, and how they manage to get along. My wife's one of those people, and it's moments like this where I am even more impressed with how she's managed over the years. I guess I understand. She can rise to the occasion for the things that matter the most to her, which have always been her kids. She gets it done. In many ways, I'm the same. If I needed to do something for my wife or kids right now, I would. On the other hand, we have to pay attention to the impact of not getting adequate rest. That's the key to making sure that I don't stay at the bottom!
No matter how many times I go through this, I typically forget about hitting the bottom, until it actually happens. I don't fully understand the physiology of this, but it certainly may be adrenal in nature. My allergies and sinus infection aren't helping, although on a positive note, I think it's now mostly the allergies. I've always been prone to having more allergies when I'm very fatigued, which most likely relates to a decrease in my immune system function from training and, in this case, after a major race.
Of interest, I've gone back and forth over the years with supplements, and wonder if they might help. Of course, that's my body talking at this moment. As soon as I feel better, it won't matter as much. It's also very humbling to hit the bottom. I can only wonder what people who suffer from any number of chronic illnesses feel like at a given moment, and how they manage to get along. My wife's one of those people, and it's moments like this where I am even more impressed with how she's managed over the years. I guess I understand. She can rise to the occasion for the things that matter the most to her, which have always been her kids. She gets it done. In many ways, I'm the same. If I needed to do something for my wife or kids right now, I would. On the other hand, we have to pay attention to the impact of not getting adequate rest. That's the key to making sure that I don't stay at the bottom!
Thursday, October 17, 2019
One Day at a Time
I did a short swim today. It still managed to kick my butt. It's always remarkable how much an Ironman takes out of you. It's not too surprising in this case because of my sinus infection, allergies and the difficulty of Kona. In fact, it's humbling, and I need to be very cautious as I recover. Even the smallest amount of intensity can kick my butt. As my coach reminded me today, I enjoy intensity. I always have. The patience of endurance training is something that I've held to for most of the last decade. In the coming year, my focus will be on my 5K pace. That means intensity. It also means core and strength training. As a 60 year old athlete, these things are paramount to my future as any time of athlete. You can fake it when you're younger, but in order to ward off the physiological changes that do occur with aging (which, btw, starts somewhere in your 30's and 40's), a focus on strength is critical.
It's been difficult to fully focus this week, between my resolving sinus infection and overall fatigue. It's time for me to move on to the next chapter of my life. I've written about the focus on my wife and family and their dreams, rather than mine. At the same time, I have and always will be a goal oriented person, so as I've noted, from a physical fitness perspective, my focus will be on improving my 5K time. My most recent 5K times have been right around 23:30-23:50. My best 5K ever was eleven years ago, and it was my only result under 20 minutes (19:30). I don't know what's possible, and I think that the key will actually be not setting a specific goal, but gradually lowering my times, and gradually increasing my effort and pace. Historically, doing too much too soon is a surefire way to end up injured.
One day at a time is going to be key. For the next week or two, making sure that I recover and definitely staying focused on not overdoing it will be key. Making progress with my fitness will need to be incremental. Similarly, I have other personal goals that it's time for me to get started on. I've been working on my textbook, that's at the top of my list. One day at a time.
It's been difficult to fully focus this week, between my resolving sinus infection and overall fatigue. It's time for me to move on to the next chapter of my life. I've written about the focus on my wife and family and their dreams, rather than mine. At the same time, I have and always will be a goal oriented person, so as I've noted, from a physical fitness perspective, my focus will be on improving my 5K time. My most recent 5K times have been right around 23:30-23:50. My best 5K ever was eleven years ago, and it was my only result under 20 minutes (19:30). I don't know what's possible, and I think that the key will actually be not setting a specific goal, but gradually lowering my times, and gradually increasing my effort and pace. Historically, doing too much too soon is a surefire way to end up injured.
One day at a time is going to be key. For the next week or two, making sure that I recover and definitely staying focused on not overdoing it will be key. Making progress with my fitness will need to be incremental. Similarly, I have other personal goals that it's time for me to get started on. I've been working on my textbook, that's at the top of my list. One day at a time.
Wednesday, October 16, 2019
Ironman Recovery
Recovering from an Ironman is never easy. It's especially hard when you went through the things I did over the past week. I am not surprised as to how I'm feeling, considering what I put my body through while fighting a sinus infection. That was one reason I actually tried to "take it easy" over the course of the day. I didn't want to feel worse than I presently do. The Ironman recovery cycle is pretty typical, having gone through it now fifteen times. The first few days can actually be somewhat of a high, as the endorphins remain high. But, the endorphins drop, and this tends to coincide with the maximal damage done to the body. This experience is no different. Yesterday was not a good day. My allergies continued to bother me, which meant a lot of mucus production. The soles of my feet have blisters, which is not that bad, except for the pain when walking. My muscles weren't particularly sore, but they are tired, a fact borne out when my low back went into spasm while putting air in the tires of my wife's car. Dealing with back spasms is one thing, but dealing with them while the rest of your body is relatively weak and you feel somewhat miserable, is no fun.
I'm not complaining. Far from it! I did this to myself and I take responsibility for my actions. I expect no one to feel sorry for me, nor do I want much in the way of help or assistance. In fact, I'll tend to while awhile in suffering and self-pity until I'm feeling a little better. The self-pity comment was a joke, by the way!
I got a pretty good night's sleep last night, which is a good sign. Sleep is critical to recovery, and initially, can be very problematic. I'm feeling a bit better today, and will have to see how the next few days play out. The hardest thing to do is to truly take care of myself. We push and push and push and can forget to do the basics. Healthy eating, hydration, rest, and some gentle recovery movement. That's important, though my feet are making it a bit challenging!
One of the hardest places to be during the Ironman recovery is in ones head. It can get pretty dark, and combining the physical feelings with being a physician, I often start thinking that I'm getting a terminal illness. Somewhat fortunately, my sinus infection has come to the rescue this time! I know that feels miserable, but I also know that it's self limited! Funny how the universe conspires to take care of us. I'll maintain my recovery process over the week, and take care of myself. Next week is the beginning of a whole new chapter in my life!
I'm not complaining. Far from it! I did this to myself and I take responsibility for my actions. I expect no one to feel sorry for me, nor do I want much in the way of help or assistance. In fact, I'll tend to while awhile in suffering and self-pity until I'm feeling a little better. The self-pity comment was a joke, by the way!
I got a pretty good night's sleep last night, which is a good sign. Sleep is critical to recovery, and initially, can be very problematic. I'm feeling a bit better today, and will have to see how the next few days play out. The hardest thing to do is to truly take care of myself. We push and push and push and can forget to do the basics. Healthy eating, hydration, rest, and some gentle recovery movement. That's important, though my feet are making it a bit challenging!
One of the hardest places to be during the Ironman recovery is in ones head. It can get pretty dark, and combining the physical feelings with being a physician, I often start thinking that I'm getting a terminal illness. Somewhat fortunately, my sinus infection has come to the rescue this time! I know that feels miserable, but I also know that it's self limited! Funny how the universe conspires to take care of us. I'll maintain my recovery process over the week, and take care of myself. Next week is the beginning of a whole new chapter in my life!
Tuesday, October 15, 2019
Dreams
I've been a bit of a "dreamer" my whole life. I've always wanted to change the world for the better. When I was in 7th grade, I decided that I didn't need to go through the 8th grade. It seemed like more of a "social" year to me. I pushed to skip the 8th grade, which I eventually did. I was going to finish high school in three years, but ultimately changed my mind and stayed on for my senior year, though I did manage to accumulate a half a year of college credits in the process. After a year and a half of college, I dropped out of school and immigrated to Israel. The reasons were complicated, but in some ways I needed to fully demonstrate my independence so I could decide my future for myself. I often use the term "iconoclast" to describe myself. I have always followed the beat of my own drum. With that "beat" has come a number of dreams which I've pursued.
When I got into the "real world," from a work perspective, I always had my own thoughts on how things should work. My goals were still to make a difference. My passion for the health and wellbeing of older adults has driven my "work" life for the past three and a half decades. Many of my "dreams" revolved around this. I ran a company, and then I helped build my own company. I got into the "quality improvement" world and did some fun stuff, and then found myself running a nearly billion dollar nursing home operation. One doesn't do any of this while working nine to five.
I was also asthmatic as a kid, and although I loved sports, I struggled in most of my attempts to be athletic. In 1982, I got the idea of doing the ironman. Now I've done "The" Ironman. Along the way I've made choices, I've been a work-a-holic, I've put in lots of time working, training, racing, and politicking. I've followed my dreams. Along the way, I had two wonderful daughters, and inherited a son. I've always had a tendency to support them and whatever their dreams are. I know I'll do the same for my grandson.
In early September of 1976, I was in the suite of my dorm, Discovery Hall, when this girl came in with one of my suite mates. She was wearing jean overalls. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was smitten. I also felt like I was in over my head. There's no way that someone so beautiful would even think twice about me. Skipping the 8th grade had not helped with my social skills. I'd never really dated anyone at that point. But, I still knew that she was the one. Somehow, I got lucky. She saw something in me and we became friends. By the new year I got up the gumption to ask her on a date. In May of 1982, my dream came true. I married my best friend and soul mate.
For the last 37 years, as I have followed all of my other dreams, she has supported me in those endeavors. She has been my life's Sherpa. During most of those years, she chose to follow one of her dreams, and that was to have two amazing daughters. As a mother, she has been as fierce as a lioness or bear in protecting her children. She would, and has, done anything for them. She is a remarkably talented song writer (and writer for that matter), but has put aside her dreams so that I can follow mine and our kids can follow theirs. As I spent my day "meditating" on Saturday, there was a moment of clarity upon which I knew what I had to do next. It is my wife's turn to follow her dreams. Anything and everything that I can do to help support her is my priority. In that moment, doing more Ironman's suddenly had no meaning. In fact, I've achieved my dreams, and while I will always have goals (I'm wired that way), it's time for the dream achieving torch to be passed from me to her.
I am signed up to do the St. George Ironman in May. I'm one of only 26 people to have finished the first three. I won't keep that streak going, because it's only a streak. There was a time that there was meaning to having such a streak, but right now, the only thing that means anything is to help my wife pursue her dreams. Achieving a goal for the goals sake isn't really what I've ever been about. From a work perspective, I've always been very mission driven. I've even couched my Ironman dreams in the context of health and wellness. In May of 1982, I made a vow, and perhaps we didn't promise to help each other achieve our dreams, but we might as well have. My wife has supported and helped me to achieve everything that I've ever dreamt of. It's my turn to help her do the same. It's time for her to pursue whatever dreams she chooses. It will be my privilege to be her Sherpa.
When I got into the "real world," from a work perspective, I always had my own thoughts on how things should work. My goals were still to make a difference. My passion for the health and wellbeing of older adults has driven my "work" life for the past three and a half decades. Many of my "dreams" revolved around this. I ran a company, and then I helped build my own company. I got into the "quality improvement" world and did some fun stuff, and then found myself running a nearly billion dollar nursing home operation. One doesn't do any of this while working nine to five.
I was also asthmatic as a kid, and although I loved sports, I struggled in most of my attempts to be athletic. In 1982, I got the idea of doing the ironman. Now I've done "The" Ironman. Along the way I've made choices, I've been a work-a-holic, I've put in lots of time working, training, racing, and politicking. I've followed my dreams. Along the way, I had two wonderful daughters, and inherited a son. I've always had a tendency to support them and whatever their dreams are. I know I'll do the same for my grandson.
In early September of 1976, I was in the suite of my dorm, Discovery Hall, when this girl came in with one of my suite mates. She was wearing jean overalls. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was smitten. I also felt like I was in over my head. There's no way that someone so beautiful would even think twice about me. Skipping the 8th grade had not helped with my social skills. I'd never really dated anyone at that point. But, I still knew that she was the one. Somehow, I got lucky. She saw something in me and we became friends. By the new year I got up the gumption to ask her on a date. In May of 1982, my dream came true. I married my best friend and soul mate.
For the last 37 years, as I have followed all of my other dreams, she has supported me in those endeavors. She has been my life's Sherpa. During most of those years, she chose to follow one of her dreams, and that was to have two amazing daughters. As a mother, she has been as fierce as a lioness or bear in protecting her children. She would, and has, done anything for them. She is a remarkably talented song writer (and writer for that matter), but has put aside her dreams so that I can follow mine and our kids can follow theirs. As I spent my day "meditating" on Saturday, there was a moment of clarity upon which I knew what I had to do next. It is my wife's turn to follow her dreams. Anything and everything that I can do to help support her is my priority. In that moment, doing more Ironman's suddenly had no meaning. In fact, I've achieved my dreams, and while I will always have goals (I'm wired that way), it's time for the dream achieving torch to be passed from me to her.
I am signed up to do the St. George Ironman in May. I'm one of only 26 people to have finished the first three. I won't keep that streak going, because it's only a streak. There was a time that there was meaning to having such a streak, but right now, the only thing that means anything is to help my wife pursue her dreams. Achieving a goal for the goals sake isn't really what I've ever been about. From a work perspective, I've always been very mission driven. I've even couched my Ironman dreams in the context of health and wellness. In May of 1982, I made a vow, and perhaps we didn't promise to help each other achieve our dreams, but we might as well have. My wife has supported and helped me to achieve everything that I've ever dreamt of. It's my turn to help her do the same. It's time for her to pursue whatever dreams she chooses. It will be my privilege to be her Sherpa.
Monday, October 14, 2019
Anything is Possible
I unpacked this morning and took out my Finisher's Medal. It says "Anything is Possible." I started to cry. I could stop today's blog right now, and it wouldn't have any more meaning than that. If I had any doubt about what finishing the Ironman World Championship in Kona meant to me, that was my answer. I had high hopes for my "results" two days ago, but those hopes were hijacked by allergies and a sinus infection. That didn't matter, it never does. I always say that it's the effort that matters, and knowing that I've given it my best. That truth held up on the World's greatest triathlon stage on Saturday. As I look back, despite some quasi-negative thoughts early in the bike ride, not only did I never give up, I never left up. At the same time, I might have pushed a little harder, but I would have been risking two things. The first thing was risking finishing. The second thing was risking my health. In the back of my mind, I not only knew and understood my limitations, I also knew that with my allergies and sinuses the way they were, pushing too far beyond my limits might have resulted in pneumonia or something worse. How did I know this? I'm a doctor. I also trust my clinical judgement. I always have.
"Anything is Possible." I have to say that concept has defined my whole life. I've never taken anything for granted, and I've never thought that anything is beyond the realm of possibility. In many ways, I always thought that Ironman St. George was the ultimate Ironman. I even questioned whether I "needed" to do Kona. One of the reasons may have been that St. George in 2010 was my first Ironman. I did it just 6 months after breaking my clavicle and hip socket. Then, in 2012 I did the most epic Ironman of all time, or so I thought until Saturday. If I hadn't been sick, perhaps Kona wouldn't have quite measured up to 2012 St. George. On one hand, the experience itself, the people, the venue, everything was perfect. But, the added challenge of how I felt all week, and then how I felt on race day. In retrospect, that will make the day all the more special.
I planned all year for this race. I trained harder than I've ever trained in my life. I developed a very sound strategy and plan for race day. I wrote out my race report in advance. On race day, I executed everything I'd prepared for perfectly. I'd even realized the morning of the race that I might struggle with negative thoughts, so I had already developed a plan for that. While I think that I can say that I didn't allow any true negative thoughts into my head, I admit to thinking that if this were any other race, that I'd have quit 10 miles into the bike! That wasn't negative, it was honest and practical. It was a reminder to myself as to the importance of this race and what it meant to me. I also began thinking of what was next. That's how I realized that I'd be achieving my dream, and that my next goal is to make sure that my wife has the same opportunity to achieve her dreams. I am dedicated to that more than anything. I'll continue to support my kids in their dreams, and I have this little guy who will have dreams. I'd do anything to help him achieve them.
If I hadn't been under the weather, who knows how my day would have gone. I might have had my personal best run time. I might have had a "respectable" time. I also might not have understood my goals and my future as well as I do now. "Anything is Possible."
"Anything is Possible." I have to say that concept has defined my whole life. I've never taken anything for granted, and I've never thought that anything is beyond the realm of possibility. In many ways, I always thought that Ironman St. George was the ultimate Ironman. I even questioned whether I "needed" to do Kona. One of the reasons may have been that St. George in 2010 was my first Ironman. I did it just 6 months after breaking my clavicle and hip socket. Then, in 2012 I did the most epic Ironman of all time, or so I thought until Saturday. If I hadn't been sick, perhaps Kona wouldn't have quite measured up to 2012 St. George. On one hand, the experience itself, the people, the venue, everything was perfect. But, the added challenge of how I felt all week, and then how I felt on race day. In retrospect, that will make the day all the more special.
I planned all year for this race. I trained harder than I've ever trained in my life. I developed a very sound strategy and plan for race day. I wrote out my race report in advance. On race day, I executed everything I'd prepared for perfectly. I'd even realized the morning of the race that I might struggle with negative thoughts, so I had already developed a plan for that. While I think that I can say that I didn't allow any true negative thoughts into my head, I admit to thinking that if this were any other race, that I'd have quit 10 miles into the bike! That wasn't negative, it was honest and practical. It was a reminder to myself as to the importance of this race and what it meant to me. I also began thinking of what was next. That's how I realized that I'd be achieving my dream, and that my next goal is to make sure that my wife has the same opportunity to achieve her dreams. I am dedicated to that more than anything. I'll continue to support my kids in their dreams, and I have this little guy who will have dreams. I'd do anything to help him achieve them.
If I hadn't been under the weather, who knows how my day would have gone. I might have had my personal best run time. I might have had a "respectable" time. I also might not have understood my goals and my future as well as I do now. "Anything is Possible."
Sunday, October 13, 2019
Ironman World Championship Race Report
In a previous blog I wrote that participating in the Ironman World Championship was the “icing,” and not the “cake. That was based on the concept that it’s the journey that matters. Over the past ten years, I’ve been on a journey that culminated today. I’ve trained harder than ever, and I came to Kona excited and ready to have my best possible race. After doing the 10K and then the practice swim, I felt like I was coming down with a cold, but it turned out that I was having really bad allergies. When my allergies act up, I’m prone to sinus infections. I spent the week doing everything in my power to ward off a sinus infection. I was feeling a little better yesterday, but woke up this morning with a lot of discolored mucus and an elevated resting heart rate. I had only one choice on how to deal with this circumstance, by ignoring it. I woke up early, and did all of my usual preparations before making my way down Ali’i drive to the race. As I walked down Ali’i, I actually had tears in my eyes. I was really doing this!
The Ironman World Championship had swim waves for the first time ever this year. The Legacy Program wave, called the Kukui wave, was the last to start at 7:30 am. I figured that Legacy athletes, who comprise all age groups, and include both men and women, would represent a typical cross section of swim capabilities. There were probably around 200 people in this wave, and I’m very comfortable with starting near the front under these circumstances. It was hard to know how many in our group were faster than me, so I started in the middle and at the front, figuring that I’d gradually angle in and try to catch on to the feet of someone who was swimming at about my pace. I just tried to find a similar effort as the one I had in the practice swim last weekend, and focus on getting my elbows up in order to protect myself. As we got close to starting, I went horizontal, and got prepared to swim. From the moment the cannon sounded, I knew that I was going to have a solid swim. I was swimming with good form, drafting, and moving smoothly forward. I realized that I was actually swimming in a pack. A bit of a challenge came as we swam into the preceding waves. Prior to today, I’d estimated that I would probably pass over 200-250 slower swimmers from the other waves, and would hit the wave that started five minutes ahead of us after about 10 minutes. I was spot on! From then on, it was a bit of a game of swimming through the slower swimmers ahead of us. There wasn’t going to be anybody swimming past me after the first few minutes, but I would be swimming past a bunch of other people. It turned out not to be too much of an issue, as slower swimmers tend to swim a little further from the buoys and don’t really want to be swum over. Also, the new wave format worked as it should, spreading out the field, and letting the good swimmers fight it out with one another. I’m sure that the slower swimmers weren’t thrilled to be constantly bombarded my fast swimmers in each wave, but fortunately, that wouldn’t be my worry today. I literally was drafting in a pack until, before I knew it, I was at the boat. Wow! I was at the boat. The boat was a lot smaller than I thought it was from watching this on television. Being there gave me a shot of adrenaline, and as I turned back towards the shore, I purposely turned more sharply than usual, as I’ve realized that I have a tendency to drift outward after such turns. This worked great and I was heading in, but the pack had disappeared. The few feet I could find were having trouble keeping a straight line, so I drafted when I could and continued to pass slower swimmers. I occasionally looked up to sight off the Marriott hotel, and I kept on a pretty decent line with the buoys. One of the things I realized early on was that I needed to pay attention to my surroundings and think before I took a breath, to avoid accidentally swallowing water. This became my number one focus, and I actually completed the entire swim without ever inhaling or swallowing water! I continued to maintain my stroke cadence and form, and felt strong the entire way. Before I knew it, I was in sight of the finish. I increased my kick, but didn’t push any harder otherwise. I began visualizing my transition plans. I got to the steps and realized that I’d just finished the swim at the Ironman World Championship! Another shot of adrenaline. The ocean had a lot more wave and chop from the practice swim last weekend, which ultimately slowed my down a bit. Still, I was within 5 minutes of my goal. My swim time was 1:20:54. The best people in my age group swam near 1 hour, the guy who won at Boulder swam 1:15. I can "hold my own" with the best in the world.
After coming up the steps, the first thing I did was take my time going through the hoses. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t have much excess salt on me. I also used this as a good opportunity to take off my swimskin. I grabbed my bike gear bag, went to the transition tent, sat down and went through my routine: Put my sunglasses on, put on my headband, wipe off my feet, put left arm cooler (rolled up) on my left wrist, put left glove under arm cooler, put on left aero sock, put right arm cooler on my right wrist, put right glove under right arm cooler, put on right aero sock. Put my swimskin, goggles and swim cap in the bike gear bag, handed my bag to a volunteer and made my way as quickly as I could to my bike. No need to push too hard, but I can jog because I won’t be putting on my bike shoes until I get to my bike. I’m in the second row, so I have a relatively long trek to my bike. I get to my bike, sit down and put on my bike shoes, stand up, put on my helmet, lock it securely onto my head, grab my bike and walk my bike to the mounting area. I’m starting the bike at the Ironman World Championship and again, I pause for a second to take in the moment. I’ve watched this countless times on television, and now I’m here, being cheered on by the crowd! My transition time is 7:11, solid!
I’ve done my homework and I know that the first 8-9 miles are hilly. I don’t take in any fluids or nutrition during this time, which is new for me, but I want to make sure that my GI tract is well rested before I put anything into it. I stay completely within myself on the first short hill, then on the longer climb up Kuikini Hwy, and finally, and most importantly, up Palani. My power meter isn’t capturing, but that’s ok, I usually race without looking at my numbers anyway. I stay aero, except for steeper pitches. I’m being passed by others, but I ignore that. At the same time, I realize that something isn’t right. I’m pedaling, but my legs don’t feel very strong. I’m also feeling the humidity. The best way to describe it is that I feel like I’m being smothered by a warm, wet blanket. I realize how hot and humid it already is. I try hard not to have any negative thoughts, I’d promised myself that there was no point in having such thoughts today, but I’m struggling with the recognition that I’m just not feeling very good. Going up Palani is exciting, and I just pedal comfortably, rather than use it as fuel to burn a match that I want to save for later.
Once I get to the top of Palani, I turn left onto the King K. I settle into my aero position and wait a few minutes to make sure that I’m comfortable and that my heart rate is down. The feelings that I had are not going away. In fact, they’re getting worse. I actually think to myself, if this were any other Ironman, I’d pull the plug and quit. But this is Kona, this is my dream, and that’s not going to happen. At least my GI tract is feeling fine, so I take my first fluids, and shortly thereafter my first gel. When I get to the first bike aid station, I pull over to the right, stop, get a bottle of water, pour it on myself, get another bottle of water, put it in the cage behind my seat. put another squirt of nutrition in my aero bottle, and fill the aero bottle up with water. This all takes me ~30-40 seconds, but it’s well worth the time, it’s safe, and it is my plan to repeat this process throughout the day. I look to my left, make sure it’s safe, and push off again. I’d given this a lot of thought and decided that trying to do all of these things on the fly would cause me to go slower when I was fiddling with everything, and would be more dangerous as well. I’m not worried about losing several minutes on the bike from doing this, as the act of staying hydrated and nourished will get me back all of those minutes, plus leave me in better shape for the run.
I continue my ride along the King K. The course reminds me a lot of the original Boulder bike course. Lots of false flats and long gradual climbs. I don’t worry about my speed, I just focus on maintaining a consistent effort. I also take advantage of the fact that I’ve done 14 Ironman’s before. I know what to do. Stay in the moment, which really isn’t difficult today. Hell, I’m racing in the Ironman World Championship! This is my dream. While I do my typical meditative thinking during the bike ride, I also just enjoy the lava fields and the ocean and the views. This is much more beautiful than riding around Westlake 22 times, which I did just four weeks ago! The ride is interminable. I’m not going very fast, and when I get to mile 35, it strikes me how much further I still have to go. The winds are picking up as well. I can see people in front of me weaving from the crosswinds. My feet are feeling some numbness. This is actually something I’ve struggled with the past year, and I make a note to myself to consider the impact of ironman training and racing on the probable neuropathy that I will undoubtedly inherit from my grandfather and mother. But that’s for a later blog, not for thinking during a race!
I’m on my way towards Hawi. Just like I saw from my drive here, it’s not really a climb, especially not like the climbs that I’m used to doing. Unfortunately, I'm going quite slow because of how I feel. It’s very windy, which means I need to stay relaxed and focused on the road. I didn’t come to Hawaii to have any issues riding my bike. My pace still is irrelevant. Staying cool and hydrated is the priority. Moving forward is the priority. Avoiding burning matches is my priority. My bike time will take care of itself, it’s not something that I’m concerned about. Getting to Hawi and making the turn is another moment to revel in. I make this my focus. Because of how I’m feeling, I set small goals. Getting to the turn around becomes my only focus. I’ve watched this countless times on television. Now I’m doing it. When I hit the turnaround, I feel a burst of energy. I stop at the aid station, where I see a friend of mine from California. I pass special needs, where I didn’t have anything. I’ve been around a number of other athletes the whole ride up to Hawi. I never see them again. The ride back is windy and undulating. At times I’m able to go fast, at other times, I’m just focused on staying safe. I continue, however to regularly focus on my nutrition and hydration. I realize that no one has passed me since Hawi, and I’m passing people.
As I head back to the bike finish, I have some stretches of climbing and some downhills. It’s hot, but continuing to pour water on myself, and especially on my arm coolers, is paying off. I’m actually feeling better. I had set a conservative goal of 6 1/2 hours for the bike. I’m going to go significantly longer. Ironically, at one point, I misread my watch, and think that I’m heading for an 8 hour bike ride At about Mile 80, I realize that this was a mistake and that I’m only looking to have a ride 45-50 minutes slower than planned. I feel a boost in energy. During some stretches I feel good about pushing the pace just a little, more to just have some variation in my muscles than anything else. I never push too hard. As I hit the Queen K, I soon realize that the winds have changed, and I’m going to have headwinds the rest of the way in. Oh well. Still, the ride back is going much better than the ride out. It’s odd that I felt the doldrums at the beginning of the ride, but never over the last half of the ride. I get back into town and realize that I’m about the finish the bike course at the Ironman World Championship! Because of how I’ve been feeling, I’ve avoided giving any thought to my run. There’s no reason to have doubts. It will be what it will be once I get out on the run course. In fact, I’ve begun to take the attitude that if I have a longer day, it’s ok, I want to enjoy every minute of this iconic race. Why shouldn’t I? I’ve prepared for this day, and it’s a day I’ve looked forward to for three decades. I’m going to enjoy every minute of it!
Looking back at the bike, I stopped briefly at half of the aid stations, while slowly riding through the others. I poured water on myself at every station, and maintained a solid hydration and nutrition schedule. I took in about 1800 calories, and plenty of fluids and electrolytes. I never peed, but I also never felt dehydrated. In looking at the top athletes in my age group, the top 10-15 rode well under 6 hours. They're amazing. Once you get to those 15th and above, they were riding closer to 6 hours. Here's what I found interesting. my pace for the last 36 miles of the bike was similar to theirs! I really did get energy back over the last half of the bike.
I arrive at the dismount area, unclip from my pedals and realize that I’ll be running the whole way around transition to the changing tent. I stop and quickly take off my bike shoes, so I can run more freely. On a positive note, I’m running, and my legs feel fine. I grab my gear bag and enter the changing tent. Off with my helmet and headband, off with my cycling gloves, off with my socks. Dry off my feet, vaseline on the left foot, left sock on, left shoe on, vaseline on the right foot, right sock on, right shoe on. Put my hat on my head, put my helmet, gloves, socks and shoes in my run gear bag. Grab my race belt and hand my gear bag to a volunteer. Ok, one more thing to do, run a marathon, and not just any marathon, the Ironman World Championship marathon! My bike time is 7:19:50. Fifty minutes slower than "planned." But actually pretty remarkable, considering how slow my first 60 miles were!
My transition is 8:08, pretty much as planned.
Before I leave transition, I think back to Ironman Chattanooga and how I forgot to fill up my water flasks. I stop and get water, and am even able to put some ice in my ice bag. I drink some water as well, and I’m off. As I leave transition, once again, I appreciate the moment, the spectators and the location. Starting the run has always been a big deal to me. I know that I can finish. Whether I can maintain a solid run all day is the real question. How I start will impact how I finish. There’s a short climb up Palani coming out of transition. I walk this, and once I turn right, I start a slow jog. My breathing pattern is key. I will breath with every 6th foot strike, for at least the first 6 miles. That’s my plan, and that’s what I do. I stop at each aid station, refilling my flasks, taking in fluids, refilling my ice bag, and putting ice down my top and in my shorts. It’s a routine I’ve refined over many races. The run along Ali’i drive is one that I’m very familiar with. I ran it with my friend Robert last year, and I’ve run the path three times since I got to Kona. I’ve even got some Strava segments to make comparisons too! It’s hot and humid, and so the key to the day is not running too hard. I’m not wearing a HR monitor, because at this point, it wouldn’t make any sense. But I know my effort. I stop at mile 2 to pee (note to self, don’t pour ice down your crotch just before you stop to pee!) Though I’m tired, my legs are fine. I know that I can run a marathon. How the rest of me feels is irrelevant today. I feed off the fact that I’m in Kona and living my dream. At least there are some spectators along this part of the course, giving me a little extra energy. I hit the turnaround on Ali’i and head back towards Palani. That’s where the fun truly begins! I actually identify a spectator who can send my wife a text. She runs ahead and takes a photo of me as well!
There is one hill prior to Palani that isn’t too steep, so I just slow down and run up it. I’m ok. I make the left turn and jog towards Palani. This is the one section that I have already committed to walking. Not only do I walk up it, but mentally I take another short break to appreciate what I’m doing. This is an opportunity to take my time, recover a little, and prepare for the next major leg of this incredible journey.
I get to the top of Palani, turn left on the Queen K. I already know that the next stretch is a bit of a false flat, but I get into a comfortable running rhythm. I’ve already let my breathing speed up to every 5th foot strike. While to some, this part of the run is “boring,” to me it’s the ultimate! This is the part of the run course that I’ve watched on television for years. The ocean is off to the left. I’m in the moment, thinking about my family. As planned, I think about the races that got me here, especially the ones where I’ve persevered despite challenging conditions. I’ve got on my 2012 Ironman St. George Finisher’s hat, it’s reminder that I can accomplish anything. It’s also my fastest ever Ironman run. Whether that changes today is up to Madame Pele. Through Mile 12, I’ve kept my pace between 11 and 12 minutes/mile. I’ll keep doing this as long as I can. Well, that’s as long as I can. There always comes a point in an Ironman where you have to make a decision on whether to keep pushing, and risk crashing and burning big time. It can be the difference between finishing out the last miles with the Ironman “shuffle.” I walk for a couple of miles, slowing down to 14 minute pace, before trying to pick up my effort again, which I do for a couple of miles, hovering in the 11 and 13 minute/mile range.
I get to the famous Energy Lab. I’ve never been here before, but that’s ok. I get to enjoy it. Again, I’ve “seen it” on television many times. I try to run the downhill portion, knowing that I’ll walk the uphill. The sun is completely gone, but it’s still hot. Ice continues to matter. I take my small headlamp out of my race belt and put it on the bill of my cap, as well as attaching a couple of reflectors to my trisuit. I run into a few 75 years old, and try to keep up with them! I’m heading back on the Queen K. Six miles, five miles, four…it’s getting real. At this point, whatever pain, discomfort, fatigue that I have is irrelevant. This is the last 4 miles of the Snowdrop Ultra, the last 4 miles of Ironman Chattanooga, the last 4 miles of countless 20 mile runs. I let the mental side take over my body and go into cruise control. l actually hearken back to Ironman New Zealand and recall a strategy of alternating running for 20-40 strides with walking. I’m able to get closer to 12 minute miles again. Before I know it, I make the right turn onto Palani and I’m running downhill! This is amazing! I make the right turn onto Ali’i Drive, and it’s real. I actually do this mile in under 10 minute pace! It’s surreal, the culmination of a 37 year dream. I hear the crowd roaring, there’s no pain, there’s no discomfort. I’m running down the finishing chute of the Ironman World Championship! As I near the finish line, I hear Mike Reilly yet again, Michael Wasserman, 60 years old, you are an Ironman!
My run time was 5:31:04, my final time was 14:27:06. While I always set time goals, I never judge myself on whether I hit those goals. I only care about whether I gave it everything I had. I know that I left everything out there today. I honored and respected the Ironman World Championship, which was what this was all about. On a side note, I was wrong about this being the icing on the cake. It is the cake!
One final note. This morning, after I got home, I took out my medal. It reads "anything is possible." I started crying.
Saturday, October 12, 2019
What I'll be Thinking While Racing in Kona Today
Wow! I can't believe that this day has finally come. I'm posting this before I head out of my hotel room to transition, as I'll be in little shape to write anything at the end of the day. But I thought it would be a good time to reflect on this week and what this means to me. Also, to give anyone reading this blog an idea about what will be going through my head all day. The theme for this years race is "Ohana," which is Hawaiian for family. And that's really what's never going to be far from my thoughts all day. I am blessed to have my best friend and soulmate as my wife, two unbelievable daughters, a son-in-law who is a son to me, and the cutest little guy that means the world to me. They've all put up with me this year as I've prepared for this day. They also know that I'd do anything for them.
This week's been a struggle. I arrived in Kona feeling good, did a pretty hard 10K last Saturday, and a strong swim on Sunday, only to fine myself suddenly feeling lousy. I was worried that I was coming down with a cold, but it just turns out that my allergies have acted up this week. I've had allergies my whole life. When I was a kid, I used to get allergy shots. My mom had to carry an adrenaline syringe on vacation in case I had a bad asthma attack. When my allergies act up, my sinuses can get very unhappy. I used to be prone to sinus infections because of this and would often take antibiotics. Over the last several years, I realized that antibiotics don't actually help (which is supported by the medical literature), and now I just "wait out" the infection until it resolves. Sometimes, I do a hard workout to get everything flowing and clear my sinuses out. Something that I've been reminding myself when it comes to today!
I've also realized that the combination of allergies and an Ironman training taper certainly hasn't done me any favors. Tapering is always a tricky business. It's not uncommon to feel lousy during a taper. That makes it hard to tell what's impacting me the most. Data has actually come in handy, which is good because I'm neurotic about data. I've been able to use my resting heart rate and HRV (Heart rate variability) to assess my status. It was pretty bad on Monday, but has improved steadily all week.
Despite feeling under the weather, I have definitely found myself appreciating being here in Kona. If you've read my other blogs, you also know that my body has a funny way of sending me messages prior to a big race. This week's message may have been to just slow down and completely rest, and not to get too caught up in the excitement. That's what I've done.
So, today's the day. I've raced Ironman's feeling great, and I've raced them feeling lousy. It doesn't really matter. Once I get out there, the excitement of the day will take over and I will do what I do best, stay in the moment and relish the experience. I've already written my race report, as I like to do. I plan to race the swim without going too hard, but will be thrilled with a swim time of 1:15 or better. I'm looking for transitions under 8 minutes. I have no idea what my bike time will be. It's totally dependent on weather conditions. The weather report is calling for some pretty strong winds today. That will make it a longer day, but I'm going to savor every moment! I'll be more than satisfied with anything faster than 6:30 (If it's really windy it might take longer, but that's also ok). Then comes the run. Hopefully, if my nutrition and hydration are good, I'm trying for my best Ironman marathon ever. It's a lot to ask in Kona, but I have to try. Nevertheless, based on my history, a run time under 5 hours will be satisfactory. Putting this all together leaves me right around 13 hours. I start at 7:30 am, so I hope to finish by 8:30 pm. Everything after 6:30 pm will be in the dark, but it will also be cooler!
Keep in mind, I've always obsessed with my times, and I always set goals. However, I'm also happy with whatever happens, so long as I've given it my best effort. Tomorrow will not only be no exception, but it will be the rule! I will be in the moment all day. I will be relishing the fact that I'm participating in the super bowl of triathlon! Every moment will be a gift. I will appreciate every gust of wind, every degree of heat and every percent of humidity. This is what we do. You can follow me at https://www.ironman.com/triathlon/coverage/athlete-tracker.aspx?race=worldchampionship&y=2019#/tracker My bib number is 123.
This week's been a struggle. I arrived in Kona feeling good, did a pretty hard 10K last Saturday, and a strong swim on Sunday, only to fine myself suddenly feeling lousy. I was worried that I was coming down with a cold, but it just turns out that my allergies have acted up this week. I've had allergies my whole life. When I was a kid, I used to get allergy shots. My mom had to carry an adrenaline syringe on vacation in case I had a bad asthma attack. When my allergies act up, my sinuses can get very unhappy. I used to be prone to sinus infections because of this and would often take antibiotics. Over the last several years, I realized that antibiotics don't actually help (which is supported by the medical literature), and now I just "wait out" the infection until it resolves. Sometimes, I do a hard workout to get everything flowing and clear my sinuses out. Something that I've been reminding myself when it comes to today!
I've also realized that the combination of allergies and an Ironman training taper certainly hasn't done me any favors. Tapering is always a tricky business. It's not uncommon to feel lousy during a taper. That makes it hard to tell what's impacting me the most. Data has actually come in handy, which is good because I'm neurotic about data. I've been able to use my resting heart rate and HRV (Heart rate variability) to assess my status. It was pretty bad on Monday, but has improved steadily all week.
Despite feeling under the weather, I have definitely found myself appreciating being here in Kona. If you've read my other blogs, you also know that my body has a funny way of sending me messages prior to a big race. This week's message may have been to just slow down and completely rest, and not to get too caught up in the excitement. That's what I've done.
So, today's the day. I've raced Ironman's feeling great, and I've raced them feeling lousy. It doesn't really matter. Once I get out there, the excitement of the day will take over and I will do what I do best, stay in the moment and relish the experience. I've already written my race report, as I like to do. I plan to race the swim without going too hard, but will be thrilled with a swim time of 1:15 or better. I'm looking for transitions under 8 minutes. I have no idea what my bike time will be. It's totally dependent on weather conditions. The weather report is calling for some pretty strong winds today. That will make it a longer day, but I'm going to savor every moment! I'll be more than satisfied with anything faster than 6:30 (If it's really windy it might take longer, but that's also ok). Then comes the run. Hopefully, if my nutrition and hydration are good, I'm trying for my best Ironman marathon ever. It's a lot to ask in Kona, but I have to try. Nevertheless, based on my history, a run time under 5 hours will be satisfactory. Putting this all together leaves me right around 13 hours. I start at 7:30 am, so I hope to finish by 8:30 pm. Everything after 6:30 pm will be in the dark, but it will also be cooler!
Keep in mind, I've always obsessed with my times, and I always set goals. However, I'm also happy with whatever happens, so long as I've given it my best effort. Tomorrow will not only be no exception, but it will be the rule! I will be in the moment all day. I will be relishing the fact that I'm participating in the super bowl of triathlon! Every moment will be a gift. I will appreciate every gust of wind, every degree of heat and every percent of humidity. This is what we do. You can follow me at https://www.ironman.com/triathlon/coverage/athlete-tracker.aspx?race=worldchampionship&y=2019#/tracker My bib number is 123.
Friday, October 11, 2019
Journey to Kona Day 248: Giving Kona Everything I've Got! IM #14, IM Boulder 2019
When this year began, I already had my Legacy spot for Kona. I didn't need to do another full Ironman. I just needed a 70.3, which was to be the Santa Rosa 70.3. For the same reason that I've already signed up for Ironman St. George 2020, I still wanted to give IM Boulder a shot. Three years ago, my time in Boulder would have won the 60-64 AG. Now that I'm 60, I wanted to see how I'd stack up with the competition! My preparation for Kona had put me in the best Ironman shape of my entire life. In some ways I've been training this hard out of respect for Kona. In another way, it's out of respect for how I really want to continue to approach Ironman racing. I've always been a competitive person, but generally see that competitive nature to primarily be with myself. However, when given the opportunity, I do enjoy competing with others. Over the years of doing triathlons, I've won my age group a few times in local races. I treasure those moments. Generally, I regularly finish in the top 20% of my age group. How would I do in Boulder? I wanted to know what I could do before heading to Kona. And, like when I started in this crazy sport, despite having qualified through the Legacy Program, I still wanted to try to qualify the old fashioned way!
There is an inner satisfaction that comes from such a high level of competition. I don't have to win. If I give it everything I've got, I'm satisfied. In fact, one of the most satisfying races I've ever had was one where I didn't have my best result, but I'd spent the prior week working 20 hour days (filming a t.v. pilot with my daughters) and not training at all (http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-blossom-ironman-or-how-not-to.html). Talk about Ohana (this years theme, which means family). Once again, it's about balance and symmetry. For me, that balance requires knowing that I've made the effort. The results will come on their own, and aren't important in and of themselves.
So, why do I do this crazy sport? Because I'm passionate about exercise, a healthy life style and demonstrating that age is just a number. I've also always felt that I find this same spirit in other triathletes. Even the professional triathletes tend to be laid back, despite their competitive nature on race day. It was great meeting Dave Scott, Mark Allen, Paula Newby-Fraser and Tim DeBoom on Wednesday night to remind me of this. I often say that Ironman is a metaphor for life. It's also a proxy for life. I've embraced being an Ironman. That will culminate tomorrow as I race in the "Super Bowl" of triathlon.
I raced Ironman Boulder this year with all of this in mind. My swim was ok, I hadn't reached the swim fitness I've got now. My bike was great, 5th in my age group. I never got fully untracked on my run, but still had the 6th fastest run in my age group. The overall result, 7th in my age group. The six men ahead of me were all prior Kona qualifiers or USAT All-Americans. I haven't reached the very top echelon, but I seem to be in the next one. That has given me confidence coming into Kona, especially knowing that my training since Boulder has been better than ever.
If you want to read my race report for Boulder, it comes in two parts:
http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2019/06/journey-to-kona-day-125-im-boulder-race.html (race report prior to run); http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2019/06/journey-to-kona-day-126-ironman-boulder.html (run report)
There is an inner satisfaction that comes from such a high level of competition. I don't have to win. If I give it everything I've got, I'm satisfied. In fact, one of the most satisfying races I've ever had was one where I didn't have my best result, but I'd spent the prior week working 20 hour days (filming a t.v. pilot with my daughters) and not training at all (http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-blossom-ironman-or-how-not-to.html). Talk about Ohana (this years theme, which means family). Once again, it's about balance and symmetry. For me, that balance requires knowing that I've made the effort. The results will come on their own, and aren't important in and of themselves.
So, why do I do this crazy sport? Because I'm passionate about exercise, a healthy life style and demonstrating that age is just a number. I've also always felt that I find this same spirit in other triathletes. Even the professional triathletes tend to be laid back, despite their competitive nature on race day. It was great meeting Dave Scott, Mark Allen, Paula Newby-Fraser and Tim DeBoom on Wednesday night to remind me of this. I often say that Ironman is a metaphor for life. It's also a proxy for life. I've embraced being an Ironman. That will culminate tomorrow as I race in the "Super Bowl" of triathlon.
I raced Ironman Boulder this year with all of this in mind. My swim was ok, I hadn't reached the swim fitness I've got now. My bike was great, 5th in my age group. I never got fully untracked on my run, but still had the 6th fastest run in my age group. The overall result, 7th in my age group. The six men ahead of me were all prior Kona qualifiers or USAT All-Americans. I haven't reached the very top echelon, but I seem to be in the next one. That has given me confidence coming into Kona, especially knowing that my training since Boulder has been better than ever.
If you want to read my race report for Boulder, it comes in two parts:
http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2019/06/journey-to-kona-day-125-im-boulder-race.html (race report prior to run); http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2019/06/journey-to-kona-day-126-ironman-boulder.html (run report)
Thursday, October 10, 2019
Journey to Kona Day 247: Why I do this crazy sport, IM #13 Santa Rosa 2018
"One thing is for sure, when I do Kona in 2019, I will be well trained. I have to say that doing an ironman without proper training is doable, but is much less “fun.” That quote is from my race report from Ironman Santa Rosa 2018, which I did on minimal training in the midst of a highly stressful work life. Here's my full race report from that day:
http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2018/05/ironman-santa-rosa-race-report.html
It's ironic that I'd already found my 12th Ironman was "no fun" because I was fighting a full blown cold throughout the entire race. My 13th Ironman was different, insofar I became one of those people who walks the entire marathon. I had somehow thought that I could "fake it" and get by on essentially 4-5 hours a week of swim, bike and run training, because I'd also been doing some strength training. Well, someone like me can't "fake it." At least not to be able to compete at the level that I'd previously competed at. Yes, I could finish an Ironman, but I knew that. In that regard, this also was less fun.
My 13th Ironman reminded me how much I really love giving an Ironman 110%. While I didn't need to do a 14th Ironman prior to Kona, I realized that I wanted to. Something was missing for me. And in the interim period, I also signed up to do Ironman St. George in 2020. I've even been considering signing up to do Santa Rosa again. Something about "unfinished business." Now that I'm finally competing in the 60-64 age group, I want to see what I can do. But, in order to see what I can do, I have to train for it. Which is what I've been doing in my training leading up to Kona.
Tomorrow is the last day before the Ironman World Championship in Kona. I'll be reflecting on this year's Ironman Boulder. Santa Rosa in 2018 was a spring board to get me looking at why I truly love doing Ironman. I had been totally immersed in work again, while significantly reducing my Ironman training, and something was missing. This was the prelude to my "Journey to Kona" and the realization of what it really is that I want out of this crazy sport!
http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2018/05/ironman-santa-rosa-race-report.html
My 13th Ironman reminded me how much I really love giving an Ironman 110%. While I didn't need to do a 14th Ironman prior to Kona, I realized that I wanted to. Something was missing for me. And in the interim period, I also signed up to do Ironman St. George in 2020. I've even been considering signing up to do Santa Rosa again. Something about "unfinished business." Now that I'm finally competing in the 60-64 age group, I want to see what I can do. But, in order to see what I can do, I have to train for it. Which is what I've been doing in my training leading up to Kona.
Tomorrow is the last day before the Ironman World Championship in Kona. I'll be reflecting on this year's Ironman Boulder. Santa Rosa in 2018 was a spring board to get me looking at why I truly love doing Ironman. I had been totally immersed in work again, while significantly reducing my Ironman training, and something was missing. This was the prelude to my "Journey to Kona" and the realization of what it really is that I want out of this crazy sport!
Wednesday, October 9, 2019
Journey to Kona Day 246: Lessons from my Legacy Qualifying Race, IM Santa Rosa 2017, #12!
Three days before Kona, and today I reminisce about the Ironman that got me here. There's an irony as well, since I've been feeling a bit under the weather while I await my big day. Ironman Santa Rosa in 2017 was a bittersweet race. The sweet part was the fact that finishing it punched my ticket to Kona. The bitter part was that I "joked" that it was my least favorite Ironman (until the next IM Santa Rosa, it would turn out). Why was it my least favorite? Because I raced with a full blown cold. It wasn't that I didn't have a decent performance that day. In fact, it is still my Ironman bike PR. It wasn't that I was probably about 30 minutes slower than I should have been. It wasn't that my age group placement wasn't quite up to the level that I've come to expect from myself.
Ironman Santa Rosa 2017 was my least favorite Ironman because I had a cold. Who likes having a cold? Who feels good when they have a cold? It's funny, because I pride myself on having a high pain threshold, which I do. I just hate it when I have a cold. It's a miserable feeling that I just don't like. While I don't have a cold this week, I've been struggling with sinus issues. I'm hoping to have these issues behind me by race day, but if I don't I can call upon my Santa Rosa experience to help pull me through on Saturday. There is one take home from my race report (http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2017/07/kona-legacy-spot-and-my-least-enjoyable.html) that is notable, I did better in regards to feeling the misery of a cold once it warmed up! It was chilly in Santa Rosa that morning, and through the early parts of the bike ride. It won't be chilly in Kona, not early, not ever!
The human body has always fascinated me. That may be one reason that I decided to become a doctor. It's certainly the reason that I'm a Geriatrician. As a older triathlete, I continue to be astounded by what the human body can do. My head and neck aren't 100% today, but the rest of my body feels pretty good. I struggle a little with my respiratory tract when my sinuses are acting up. I had asthma as a child, and occasionally my body remembers that by bringing back some symptoms from those days. Again, the warm air and humidity should actually help that aspect of things. On the other hand, when any of us struggle with little things like this, we can look at people like Rudy Garcia-Tolson and see what he's accomplished by focusing on what tools he has available to him.
I also remember persevering on the run at Santa Rosa. The middle lap was tough, I was slowing down, but I didn't want to carry that through to the last lap. That's what I love the most about Ironman, dealing with those tough times and pushing through them. Much like I did in 2009 in my only DNF, riding my bike 48 miles and walking 3.5 miles with a fractured hip socket and clavicle. There really isn't much that I can't tolerate to complete an Ironman. On Saturday, I will deal with whatever comes my way on the greatest Ironman stage in the world! This is the course that humbled Julie Moss. It humbled Mark Allen several times before he "figured it out." Even the great Paula Newby-Fraser was not immune to the wiles of Kona. I could go on and on. My race plan is becoming clearer by the day, and if I'm not 100%, that will only push me to follow my plan even more diligently. Following that plan is what will get me to the finish in the most expeditious fashion. That's what I learned from my Legacy qualifying race in 2017, Ironman Santa Rosa.
Ironman Santa Rosa 2017 was my least favorite Ironman because I had a cold. Who likes having a cold? Who feels good when they have a cold? It's funny, because I pride myself on having a high pain threshold, which I do. I just hate it when I have a cold. It's a miserable feeling that I just don't like. While I don't have a cold this week, I've been struggling with sinus issues. I'm hoping to have these issues behind me by race day, but if I don't I can call upon my Santa Rosa experience to help pull me through on Saturday. There is one take home from my race report (http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2017/07/kona-legacy-spot-and-my-least-enjoyable.html) that is notable, I did better in regards to feeling the misery of a cold once it warmed up! It was chilly in Santa Rosa that morning, and through the early parts of the bike ride. It won't be chilly in Kona, not early, not ever!
The human body has always fascinated me. That may be one reason that I decided to become a doctor. It's certainly the reason that I'm a Geriatrician. As a older triathlete, I continue to be astounded by what the human body can do. My head and neck aren't 100% today, but the rest of my body feels pretty good. I struggle a little with my respiratory tract when my sinuses are acting up. I had asthma as a child, and occasionally my body remembers that by bringing back some symptoms from those days. Again, the warm air and humidity should actually help that aspect of things. On the other hand, when any of us struggle with little things like this, we can look at people like Rudy Garcia-Tolson and see what he's accomplished by focusing on what tools he has available to him.
I also remember persevering on the run at Santa Rosa. The middle lap was tough, I was slowing down, but I didn't want to carry that through to the last lap. That's what I love the most about Ironman, dealing with those tough times and pushing through them. Much like I did in 2009 in my only DNF, riding my bike 48 miles and walking 3.5 miles with a fractured hip socket and clavicle. There really isn't much that I can't tolerate to complete an Ironman. On Saturday, I will deal with whatever comes my way on the greatest Ironman stage in the world! This is the course that humbled Julie Moss. It humbled Mark Allen several times before he "figured it out." Even the great Paula Newby-Fraser was not immune to the wiles of Kona. I could go on and on. My race plan is becoming clearer by the day, and if I'm not 100%, that will only push me to follow my plan even more diligently. Following that plan is what will get me to the finish in the most expeditious fashion. That's what I learned from my Legacy qualifying race in 2017, Ironman Santa Rosa.
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