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#revengeofthehip

I've had some time since my injury last month to collect my thoughts and am slowly piecing together how I got from the best shape of my life to where I am now. This post is for me to look back on one day and remember rather than creating disdain for the sport of triathlon or any sympathy on my behalf from people I know.

My last blog post was a race recap from Ironman Vineman back in the fall of 2016. When I hit the publish button on that post I remember thinking that was it, the grand finale. Another milestone achieved and time to move onto something else. Hung my try bike on the wall and never unpacked my gear bags. Since I can't sit still for too long, three months later I started a training block for Texas 70.3. Feeling good and ready to burn off the 15 lbs I put on in "retirement."

Training up to that race was normal...never felt fatigued, sore, injured, etc. and I showed up to Galveston, in a monsoon, ready to just go out and have fun. No time targets. No worries. We stayed with friends at their beach house and I was totally relaxed for this race. I swam pretty well, biked ok and started the run with some life left in my legs--the first loop was under my training pace and the wheels fell off on the second loop. I honestly cannot remember my finish time, but its something in the 5:40 range. I was sore, tired and just glad to be done.

Over the course of the next several months I just sort of floated around and took things easy. I was cycling and swimming more than usual and running about the same as my normal routine. This went on until Harvey blew through and I shut things down totally for about a month to lend as much of my time to friends and family as possible. In early October I received an email advertising the Rock Raccoon 50 miler, so naturally I signed up. Never ran this far and had no idea what I was getting myself into. Perfect.

I've been a runner since college and was happy going back to my roots--I actually enjoyed the miles that I was logging to prepare for the 50 miler. For context, the first week started with 6 on Tues, 8 on Wed, 4 on Thurs 16 on Sat and 10 on Sun. Brutal. On a particular weekend in mid-Dec I had 20 scheduled on Sat with a recovery 10 on Sun. I finished up on Sat and felt extremely tired afterwards, so I went home and took it easy the rest of the day. Got up the next morning and did 5 with Jack in the stroller (our Sunday routine), dropped him off with Emily and then took off for the rest of the miles. About two miles later, I felt a pop in the hip joint and I cramped from mid-abdomen to my knee cap. Walked home and immediately stretched it out and soaked in the tub. I tried to run a couple of days later and couldn't go more than a quarter mile without doubling over in pain. And here we are.

I did an MRI in early January and saw two doctors post-imaging...the initial MRI showed femoroacetibular impingement (FAI), a pincer on the head of the femur, 4-5 distinct labrum defects (tears), 3 distinct cartilage defects (tears) and early stage osteoarthritis. I went to see the orthopedist and expected him to tell me I had a labrum tear--I had no idea that he would spend 20 minutes reading off all of the things going wrong in my hip. There are two paths to take in this scenario: you can do Suppartz or PRP injections and follow-up with PT or you can do PT to prepare for surgery. The former would apply to new and/or small defects in the hip, the latter for revision surgeries and/or large quantities of defects. I fall into the latter with all of the other lucky folks out there. So I setup PT and had my first visit yesterday.

Slowly feeling better about my predicament and feeling like we had a plan, I went to PT to get the show on the road. Met my new best friend Kim, sat down with her to talk about the injury and was quickly interrupted. We went back through the MRI one more time and you also have a "pretty gnarly sports hernia." Thanks Kim, now let's go bed these legs into a pretzel and talk about how much it hurts.

I had a miserable nights sleep last night. I am sore and achy, and I get sharp pains with certain movements. Imagine a painful itch that you can't scratch that has been lingering on for a month. I spend my day managing pain in between meetings--Tylenol throughout the day and hydrocodone at night. I can't sit too long, so I stand up. Then I can't stand too long so I sit down (thank God for my electronic riser desk). And sleeping is the worst. Can't tie my shoes. Can't pick up my kid. I swim and it feels better, that is, until I'm not swimming and it hurts like hell. Same with cycling. And I can't run.

So what now? I have to do 3 weeks of PT to track pain levels and flexibility and report results back to  Dr. Harris. There's a 10% chance that pain will fall to a level of comfort but it won't fix the problems. From what I understand, the PT is primarily to ready my body for surgery and is also posturing for insurance to approve a revision surgery. Dr. Harris will repair the hip and we'll interview a couple of urologists to repair the sports hernia at the same time. I'll start rehab the day after surgery and they'll put me on a recumbent bike immediately. I won't swim for 8 weeks and won't take a step out of crutches or a brace for 12 weeks.

I've succumbed to the fact that endurance sports are out of the question for me, likely for the rest of my trip on this earth. At this point, I just want the pain to go away and to be able to casually exercise. The tri bike that I built from scratch is sold and hopefully in the hands of someone who can use it. I've got another baby boy on the way in June. Life is still good, just different.

Ironman Vineman - What's My Mission (Part 2)

It’s been nine days since I swam my way up and down the Russian River, cycled my way through Sonoma and Napa counties and ran a marathon around the city of Windsor, CA. Like the wine we’ve been drinking since the day after the race, time has aged my memory and I believe I can now put how awesome this experience was onto paper.

The primary goal of this race for me had nothing to do with the passage of time or attaining personal gain. Quite the contrary—six weeks prior to race day I was called to reach out to my network and ask for prayer requests, one for each mile traveled on race day, and by the time I got up and put on my wetsuit, I had over 120 requests from family, friends, friends of family and friends of friends. I was able to fill the remainder with people who came to mind just by asking God to speak to me as I was out on the course. This took an exceptional amount of courage on my part and begged of me to put myself out there more than I would typically do so in any other arena. But I am glad I did—it was life changing for me….

Cancer, divorce, miscarriage, addiction, mental illness, unemployment, world peace, and so many other sorrowful things….People were able to open up to me, many of whom had never met me, and told me their deepest fears and worries, and asked that I pray for them. I took on these burdens, prayed the entire race, and had one consistent thought in my mind the whole time: my pain is so much less significant compared to anyone on that list. Isn’t this consistent with what God wants for us? To take on the burdens of those around us? Friends, I can tell you from firsthand experience, every soreness, every cramp, every time the little voice in my head challenged me to give up all I had to do was pray for someone on my list and it went away. Immediately. God used me as a vessel and showed me that I have so much more to give, even when I am stretched thin, my tank is never empty….for those who sent in requests and all of those people in my network, it is my sincere desire that you felt peace throughout my race and will continue to do so going forward. I can assure you that my prayers will not cease at the completion of this Ironman.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t also have a personal finishing time goal for the race. Just being honest. When I last took on Ironman (Texas in 2013), I really struggled to finish. I had a terrible swim, stopped multiple times on the bike and ended up walking the majority of the marathon. My mind was never right from the time the gun went off until the finish chute. It was painful, agonizing and not fun for me. I swore this time around to do everything differently…I wanted to have fun, to remember to smile and to encourage others out on the course. My training was also laser-focused and I completed 90% of the prescribed workouts, so I knew I had done everything I could to be ready for whatever was thrown my way on race day. That’s what a successful Ironman is all about: eliminating variables and maximizing control. On the flight to San Francisco, I went back over my pacing in Training Peaks and came up with a bracketed estimated finish time of somewhere between 11:30 and 13:30. I crossed in 12:16. Being honest in your training and with yourself works.

Planning for Vineman. Since we were staying for five days after the race, it took a lot of planning out where we were going to stay and which wineries we were going to visit afterwards. Luckily, Emily’s cousin Rob, who is a remarkable winemaker and all around great guy, helped us pin down the wine tastings, so all I had to do was book places to stay. I decided to pick a spot north of the finish line to stay both pre-race and the night of the race so that we could get out of the logjam and be on our way the next morning. We had a great little place on Pony Ranch Vineyards which was 30min from the start line and 15min from the finish line (yes, there are two transition areas…). I used Cycle Chauffer to transport my bike and gear bag, so I picked these up on Thursday prior to the race at the Ironman Village site. We also picked up my packet at check-in, grabbed a t-shirt and walked around for a bit. I got in a quick 40min ride on part of the bike course that evening and had dinner, then called it a night. Friday morning, we went to T2 to drop off my run gear bag and then headed down to the swim start/T1 to drop my bike and bike gear bag. Since Johnson’s Beach is a public beach on the Russian River, I was able to get a 20min swim in my wetsuit and make sure I could still fit in it since it’s been sitting in my closet for over a year. After the bike was checked in, we went to lunch back in Healdsburg and Emily did a wine tasting at Mazzocco Estates. I got in a short 20min run after that and felt great in the 0% humidity climate. Dinner that night, my traditional beer (Pliny the Elder) and off to bed by 9pm.

My first alarm went off at 3am per my plan and I took down an Ensure drink, my electrolytes, vitamins, a PB & banana bagel and 32oz of my endurance blend drink. I was able to fall back asleep for a little bit until the next alarm went off at 430am to get up for good. Slammed another Ensure and another endurance drink and re-checked my special needs bags, put on sunscreen and my kit and off we went down to Johnson’s Beach. Traffic was moderately heavy, but we were able to get right into town and then I had Emily get the car out of there so she wouldn’t be caught up in race traffic. Quick kiss goodbye and I told her I’d see her in a few hours…

Vineman. The T1 transition area was chaotic. I always wear headphones for multiple reasons, but primarily to block out all of the chatter and nervous energy that people project prior to a race. It also dictates which songs will be in my head on the swim…

Pros entered the water at 625am and amateurs begin filing in (per Ironman’s new swim initiative) in waves of 10 people. I didn’t get to the water until 705am and began swimming as fast as I could. It became abundantly apparent that the vast majority of athletes were overzealous with their projected swim times and seeded themselves poorly. I spent the entire swim going around people, touching feet and whizzing by people who decided to walk in the shallow water. Yep, some people walked the majority of the swim. I wanted my legs to be fresh and decided to use my arms instead. I quickly made it to the turn around, looked at my watch (said 32min) and really tried to push myself for the second half. Unfortunately, it was more of the same. Slow swimmers seeded incorrectly. By the time I passed back underneath the bridges, I had lost a bit of time from all of the zigging and zagging but was still enjoying myself. The swim exit was getting closer and closer with every sight stroke and I finally got out of the water in 1:09. Perfect. Striped off my wetsuit and headed in.

The transition area was a mud pit, as was the changing area….I grabbed my bag and headed to the back of the tent to change into my cycling gear. I had swam with only my tri-bottoms so that I would have a dry shirt for the chilly first 10 miles of the bike, and it was crazy hard to put on a skinsuit when you’re wet. Put on my HR monitor, grabbed my prayer list, my helmet and shoes, and ran out to my bike.

The bike ride begins with a 7% incline up from transition to the main road. They were asking people to run their bikes up the hill, so I opted to do that versus shifting down and burning my legs up the first hill. Once on the top of the hill, I mounted my bike and began the beautiful ride through Sonoma County. The first 12 miles are flat and fast with only 200’ or so of climbing. Once you get onto the Calistoga loop at mile 13/60, the fun really starts….My plan was to drink my endurance blend (Sustained Energy, X Endurance Hydrate and Skratch Labs) and take a salt lick every 15min during the bike, which I did the entire time. I also ate a Clif Shot every hour on the hour, alternating between 25mg caffeine and 100mg caffeine. And I prayed…By the time I zipped through Hwy 101 and started to head back south towards St. Helena, I was feeling great. This is when the bike course punches you in the stomach---mile 45-ish drops you onto Chalk Hill Road which houses two 9% climbs, the second of which stretches about .5 miles long. Luckily, there were so many spectators lining the ridge and running alongside the cyclists, so it felt a bit like a stage of the tour. Once you climb these hills, you drop down into a canyon and hit speeds over 40mph. A quick 15 miles and you are back on the highway to Calistoga to do your second loop. I opted to skip special needs as I had everything I needed in my jersey and bento box—mistake. As I passed through a water stop to grab water, I began mixing my bottle and went to put it back in the bottle cage. Two miles passed the water stop, I hit a bump and my new bottle got thrown onto the pavement. Since it would have been a penalty to leave it, I had to turn back and grab it only to find that it all leaked out after it hit the ground. Should have stopped and filled it at special needs. Gotta keep moving….Since that bottle contained the majority of the nutrition I had left (that was cold), I had to go back to the last bottle I put on my bike in the morning. It was warm and had been on my bike for 5 hours. Big mistake since my drink has protein in it. After three swigs of it, my stomach quickly reminded me how much it disagreed with the hot drink and I found myself having to stop at the next two water stops to visit the port-o-can. After I had thrown up of all of the drink, I got back on my bike, climbed chalk hill, grabbed a cold Gatorade and headed into Windsor. Bike time was 6 hours on the dot (includes 7-8 min of stopping). Perfect.

The great thing about T2 at Vineman was the fact that volunteers take your bike and rack it for you. All I had to do was focus on getting my run gear bag and preparing for the run. As I hopped off my bike, my legs felt surprisingly great and I was able to chug a bottle of endurance fuel, put on my shoes, grab my race number and hat, and take off.

I finally saw Emily as I was grabbing my run bag and heading out to the run course. What a blessing it was to see her smiling face and hear her yelling for me! I ran out of the finish line area and quickly made it up the first long climb which drops you out onto Eastside road, where Rodney Strong is located. The first loop went by fast, and I averaged 9min miles which was on plan. I was also enjoying seeing the pros passing me on the other side of the road, heading in on their last loops. Professional triathletes are freaks of nature….I continued my praying and before I knew it, I was headed downhill back into Windsor to the finish area where I would turn off for the second and third loops. I didn’t see Emily on the second turn loop, but kept trucking because I knew it was a fine line between my pace and cramping out. As I made my way up the long climb out of the finish area and onto the second loop, my quads and flexors started to twitch. There’s my old friends….I began introducing coke and oranges at each water stop, and dumping ice water in my kit. I also stuffed ice into my tri shorts on my quads. My plan was to take salt every 15min and a Clif Shot every hour on the hour, which I did. However, after I made the turn at the halfway point on the second loop, my legs were stiff and cramped up. This is where my pace went from 9min/mi to 10, then to 11 and 12. By the time I started heading down the hill and back into Windsor, I knew sub-12 race was out of the question and I decided to keep focusing on the prayer list and just have fun. I can’t tell you how many people asked about my list, about Catapult (my race team’s charity partner) and where I was from. I must have met over 100 people out on the run course—I was having an absolute blast. As I was coming in from loop 2, I saw Emily and was able to hand her my list because I had prayed so much for so many people and wanted the last loop to be ran in solitude—I wanted to rely on God to push me and feed me prayer requests, which overwhelming happened. Each mile was someone new and another person popped into my head. Before I could even think about how much it hurt, I was running down the hill back into Windsor and entering the finisher loop which would wind around for about a mile. I remember thinking about Emily, about Jack and about how awesome this adventure was. I was actually sad that it was over…as I turned into the chute, all I could see was the sun setting over the mountains. What a metaphor for the last 20 weeks of preparation—I did it, 12:16:55, I finished…

What I learned. It was such a pleasure to make this journey about serving others. I honestly don’t think I could have pushed myself as hard as I did without the external motivation of having other people relying on me to pray for them. Isn’t that the model that God wants us to live by? It’s amazing how much burden you can take on and still push through to accomplish great things. I actually felt more energy when I was thinking about everyone who made my list and the pain in my legs subsided when I thought about how minuscule it was compared to the plight of others. I certainly don’t want this to end here—it has to be something that is contagious and spreads onto every aspect of my life. What am I doing for others? How much more of myself is there left to give?

I want to thank all of those who participated in this journey—from sending in prayer requests, to joining me on my long rides, to sending over words of encouragement and for Emily and Jack for being patient with my schedule. While I might be done racing for a while, there remains a fire within me that needs to be used for good. Until next time.

KB

What is my mission?

Emily and I began attending a small group last month and I am easing into the idea of sitting around with strangers, talking about how to be better partners. This is difficult for me on so many levels...For one, I'm a quasi-introvert and settings like these make me uncomfortable/sweaty. I also find it hard to share my faults. And allow anyone to help me. And talk about my faith. So attending two of these meetings has been my equivalent of reaching the summit of Everest without losing any fingers. The most recent discussion surrounded the topic of mission(ing), i.e., giving more of yourself to others. Like I do with everything in life, I began to equate this to triathlon and so this blog post has taken flight. 

Being missional (not sure it's a word, but they were using it) far exceeds the traditional idea of going to a third world country and hammering a few nails into a piece of wood. I never had the desire to go on a mission trip because I thought it was unfair to the people who actually live where I would be travelling. From the natives' perspective: this white kid with clothes and shoes and obviously enough money to fly on an airplane, comes to town and builds us a new house because our old house was such a piece of $hit (in the white kid's mind) that we needed a new one. It just didn't add up for me. What I failed to realize over the years is the fact that being missional can take on many forms. You provide a mission when you let someone cut in traffic, or when you pre-pay someone's order at Starbucks or when you comfort someone who is hurting. To me, these are better missions because they are done in everyday scenarios and have an immediate impact on someone's life (and you don't have to fly somewhere to do it). 

So how can I apply this to my life? What is my mission? 

I spend an excruciating amount of time alone in training. It's my choice. I don't get compensated for racing and as of this year, no longer even receive free shoes or nutrition. But I love the therapy that can be achieved in solidarity so I continue to do it because it makes me feel alive. However, I've recently come to the realization that something is missing this time around (triathletes train using seasons and blocks---I am chest deep in the 2016 season and my most challenging block for IMVM). I feel like God is telling me that I need to take some of the pressure off of myself and begin using this sport as a way to mission to others. It first hit me during the small group meeting on Monday and again yesterday in the pool...you're too wrapped up on how this benefits YOU and haven't even thought about how it could be a mission to OTHERS. So what can I do to immediately impact someone else's life? I'm going to add another discipline to the race: prayer. 

Upon posting this for the world to see, I will begin drafting an email to my immediate contacts to ask for prayer requests to be sent my way. Over the next six weeks and leading up to race day, I will pray during training for every request that I receive. It's easy to accomplish with a pen, a note card and a zip lock baggie. This will be my mission and I hope it brings peace to many.

Ironman Vineman is six weeks away as of this writing and I begin my four longest training weeks starting tomorrow with a 5 hour ride followed by a 30min run. Sunday asks for 2:30 on the trail. I continue to pray for strength and praise God for the ability to do what I do--I am excited to add much more to my prayers to follow. 

Kelly

 

I'm Sore as F*ck Today - The Age-Grouper Manifesto

This post concludes a lengthy sabbatical from writing and pretty much everything in my life having to do with triathlon. I don't think it's fair to say that I've "caught the triathlon bug" again, rather the fire inside was extinguished to deal with other shit. Sometimes that's life: you have to stop what you enjoy to deal with other shit. No more cursing, I promise. Let me now add one large and extremely important caveat...my life is perfect. I have a lovely wife and son who are my everything, a truly amazing family and group of friends, and my career is flourishing. This is life on the surface. Internally, however, I struggle with many things that I'd rather not get into in this blog. It's the constant battle to find inner peace that brings me back to the training. The training is my therapy-- the training makes me feel alive.


I'm sore as f*ck today (last one, I swear). I'm now in week 8 of a 24 week crusade to race Ironman Vineman (140.6) on July 30 in Napa/Sonoma. I haven't trained for or raced Ironman since 2013 and I am doing everything differently this time. And I believe that is a good thing. While I'm on the same journey as many other people out there, to travel 140.6 miles in under 17 hours, I have learned a lot over the last 4 years and am subscribing to a different set of values than I did last time. This is my age-grouper manifesto in five points.


Triathlon Costs Money
Entry fees into Ironman Vineman cost me $800. I have two gym memberships because there is no pool at the gym downtown near my office. I spend countless dollars on sports nutrition to fuel my workouts, prevent illness and injury and to recover properly. At some point, if you choose to be competitive, you will likely need a time trial bike. They don't give these away to age-groupers--see below. Goggles break after capitulating due to too much chlorine exposure. Shoe treads wear out. Triathlon kits are different than cycling kits. You subscribe to TrainingPeaks, VirtualTraining, Strava, MayMyRide, MapMyRun, etc. etc. It truly is a billion dollar enterprise. This sport is expensive.


Only Professional Triathletes are Sponsored
This is a product-centric sport and there are an average of 2,500 people competing in each race who (to the product vendors) are nothing more than swimming/cycling/running net zero marketing budgets. Unless you are paid for performance or paid to use a certain product, you are actually paying manufacturers to actively market the products they make. Facebook and Instagram are full of people who are "brand ambassadors," i.e., they get a 20% discount on the products they market on social media or get priority bike maintenance (at cost) and a free racing kit. For some reason, the sport is a culture of ambassadorships and attempts at being sponsored. In actuality, you'd have to quit your day job, move to Boulder, train all-day-long-every-day and be a natural endurance athlete to even have a shot at getting paid in this sport. I'm willing to bet the odds are less than 1%. Nothing in this sport is free, and the people you enter the water with are not sponsored athletes.


Work on Your Engine
The best advice I ever got in this sport was when I was shopping for my first time trial bike. I walked into the bike shop wearing a triathlon finisher shirt, my Rudy Project sunglasses and my Newton shoes. The dude who owned the place came over and asked me what I was looking for and I told him I wanted a bike that would make me faster. I swear to God, he looked at me, said "it's not the bike, it's your engine" then turned around and walked away. I didn't get it then, but I get it now. Your body will do what you want it to, but it makes you train it before you take it there. It's a safety system we are all born with. If you want to be a faster cyclist, cycle more and increase your power numbers. If you want to run faster, run intervals when you train. Same with swimming. Speed is a gift that is given for hard work.


There are No Shortcuts
If you want to beat the 17 hour shot clock in an Ironman, you better be able to swim 2.4 miles + cycle 112 miles + run 26.2 miles in under 17 hours. It's a pretty simple concept. In other words, you better be able to swim nonstop for 1.5hrs, your longest bike ride better be more than 90 miles and you better be able to run a marathon. Any training plan or coach that tells you differently belongs in the recycle bin (they're garbage). If your plan tells you to run for 1:30, then run for 1:30...don't run for 1:20 and call it good. There's a legitimate difference between the two. It takes weeks upon weeks (maybe years?) of preparation to get the body ready to endure the physicality that comes with endurance racing. In this sport, unpreparedness is dangerous.


You Chose to do This    
This is not a sport you participate in against your will--there has to be more to it than that. Most people have a story and a fire burning inside of them that allows them to keep moving forward when their brain and body give up the fight. People tell me all the time, "I'm Type A so I love this" or "I was a distance runner in high school, so this is fun." It's not enough to sustain you through a six hour bike session or a 3 mile swim, forget about doing it for 24 weeks straight leading up to a race! At some point in your time in this sport you will come to the revelation that you chose to do this and you'll have to make a decision as to whether or not you can continue doing it. If you don't have the fire, you better find a reason to race or you'll quickly burn out.


I guess this post is as good as any I could come up with to both jump back into blogging and jump back into training. I find myself more focused than ever on my training and there is less pressure because I have a grasp on what I am building up to. I'm not worried about what everyone else is doing and for the first time since I started this in 2012, I am learning about my body and how it responds to the training.  I only wish I would have taken a different approach to the last few years, but I learned the hard way and will not forget theses lessons. Here's hoping the racing continues so the lessons do as well.


KLB

2015 USAT National Championships - Pre

I have a very detailed memory of a time when I was eleven years old. It was summer time and we were living in Odessa. My mother had taken my brother and I with her to the grocery store and we were walking out with the guy who had bagged our groceries (a practice that is lost these days). The guy, who must have been eighteen at the time and probably preparing for his senior year of high school, asked me what grade I was going into. When I told him sixth grade, his response was simply, "man you have a long way to go." I agreed.

Now nothing seems like a "long way to go." Days come and go at the speed of light and seem to melt together, and I find it increasingly difficult to discern the activities. I work pretty much non-stop while I am in the office and once home, we don't sit down until Jack is asleep. If breathing was not a passively instinctual activity, I wouldn't remember to do it.

"The trouble is, you think you have time." - Buddha

When I signed up for the 2015 USAT National Championship race last December, I had every intention of making it the "A" race for this year. I would ride the course virtually on the bike trainer, run 10k's all year long and swim 1500m 4x/week until it became a warm-up session. I was going to be in the best shape of my life when I landed in Milwaukee. What I failed to calculate was burning myself out on a 70.3 in April and moving twice in early and late July. The trouble absolutely is, you only think you have time. Twenty-four years later and I find I still have a long way to go, it's just the metaphor has changed.

To avoid making excuses before the race even begins, I will say that I am in good enough shape to finish the race. Performances in the last three sprints have placed me in the top 5 of my age group each race. My bike power is elevated and my transitions into running feel much better than they did a year ago. Swim times have declined and no analysis is needed to understand that I spend less time in the water than I should. Nonetheless, I will likely finish in the middle of the pack (I believe there are 200+ men 35-39) hopefully sub 2:20. Leg specific goals are a 30:00 swim split, 1:05 bike split and a 43:00 run split. 2 mins total in transition. Not the times that qualified me for this race, but I am working with what I have right now.

I did take the time to update my race history here:

Travelling for a race is a race in and of itself. There is a logistical component that does not exist when you only race locally...bike had to be dropped off last Saturday, pedals removed and race wheels locked on. It will arrive in Milwaukee on Thursday. Emily and I fly out of Houston on Thursday morning and will head down to the transition area for packet pickup, bike pickup and hotel check-in. Friday morning I will head down to the race site to ride my bike, get a quick swim in and pace off a short run along the lake in an effort to acclimate before the race on Saturday. Then it's off to bike check-in and the athlete briefing, followed by attempts to stay off of my feet and take in fluids and good calories. At some point I will have to remind myself to have fun...I am excited to be sticking around for another day to watch my good friend Sam race the sprint on Sunday. There's a peace I receive from racing, but true fulfillment comes from spectating and cheering on competitors who are out on the course. Sam will do well and we'll be out there to support him to the finish.

In the midst of all of the turmoil I still find myself thankful. Thankful that we were able to move back into town and into a neighborhood where we can plant some roots. Thankful that we are all healthy. Thankful that I continue to enjoy this crazy sport and am able to participate. Eternally thankful for my family and friends who support me on this self-fulfilling journey.

Will report back after returning to Houston.

The Fear - Anger - Respect paradigm

I live my life in a constant state of fear. Not fear of tangibles such as spiders, heights or clowns, rather of the intangibles such as failure and embarrassment. As IMTX70.3 has become more than a spec in the distance, I can feel the fear coming on and so began my thinking about why we as humans share this emotion. On my bus ride this morning I came up with what I will call the Fear Anger Respect paradigm. I'll save you the wikipedia trip: a paradigm is a set of forms that all contain a certain element, in this case fear or anxiety. I believe fear is the root cause of two mutually exclusive effects: anger and respect.

I'll start with anger because, in my humble opinion, it is the worst of the two effects. I can trace back all of my anger to a certain fear: fear of the loss of control. When someone cuts me off in traffic, I get angry. It really has nothing to do with that person in particular, more so because I am no longer in control of my environment. Anger is also prevalent at work perhaps more in the form of frustration, a byproduct of anger. I am frustrated when co-workers (or my boss) do not contribute to a project because I cannot control the output of others. Control and anger have an inverse relationship: as control declines, anger increases. You get the idea.

The more applauding effect of fear is respect. When I was a kid my brother and I feared our father when we broke something or got into trouble at school. This was out of respect. I am a God fearing person because I respect the gravity of my worldly choices and how they affect my afterlife. It suffices to say that a lack of fear might also indicate a lack of respect. I have countless examples of people who have committed to pursuing some sort of endurance sport only to fail in finishing the event, or even the training program. These are the same folks who when asked how training was going, would typically answer by throwing in a "I'm not really worried about it." Contrary to the relationship with anger, respect and fear have a direct relationship. The more I fear something, the more I respect it and vice-versa.

A Biblical response to fear is taken from Paul's speech to Timothy in 2 Timothy 1:7, where he attempts to motivate Timothy to press onward in his ministry. "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." I take what Paul is preaching as a reminder that we are not to be fearful if we trust that God made us perfect in creation. Fear comes from us essentially getting in the way of God's will for our lives. This encroachment may cause undue anger from a perceived loss of control. With regard to my second point above, I believe respecting someone or something is the result of a sound mind. You are right to give respect where it is due. You are right to have butterflies when you are going to attempt something bigger than yourself. 

I consider myself extremely lucky to have found a hobby that reminds me to put aside my control issues and let my body do the work. 

On Sunday I wrapped up my final brick workout prior to IMTX70.3 which takes place this Sunday April 26. Since mid-January, I have logged 86 workouts and will complete 4 more prior to Sunday. What a journey of self-improvement it has been...I feel like I am in the best shape of my life both physically and mentally, and I am still finding inspiration on the spiritual side of things so I am confident to continue the pursuit. 

After 3.5 years of doing this, am I fearful of the race? Absolutely. But my fear is not for the lack of control but rather a respect for the sport and the distance. I know when I jump in that water, take off on my bike and throw on my running shoes, for at least these 4-6 hours (hopefully 4:48) all is right with the world and I am using the power, love and sound mind that God gave me. That is all the control I need, and that is the beauty of this for me. Taking something with so many variables for error and turning it into a success each time you enter the finisher's chute. 

For those who care to follow my progress:

http://www.ironman.com/triathlon/events/americas/ironman-70.3/texas.aspx#axzz3XrqzyA6L

Bib #1920

Die with memories, not dreams

I've had a hard time finding inspiration lately. Not for lack of reasons to be so, more due to my own stagnation. It's very easy to get so far into a routine that you wake up six months later and you are doing the same exact thing with very little, if any, progress made. That's how I feel right now. Sure, I have a training program and I am making progress in terms of fitness gains. But am I really progressing as a person? Why does everything seem so idle? At some point over the course of the past year I forgot about why I do this. Then I read a quote someone posted onto FB: "I'd rather die with memories than with dreams."

If you want to achieve something abnormally challenging, you must first have a dream, an idea. Initially, mine was to become a better person by replacing bad habits with good, and triathlon was the catalyst to accomplish this. I set specific goals and met them all over the course of two years. From super sprint in Aug 2011 to Ironman in May 2013. Then what? After Ironman I was tired and I knew there was a hip injury to deal with. I set small goals for the remainder of 2013 and met them, securing an invitation to the USAT Nationals race in Milwaukee. Then what?

In terms of racing, last year was moderately successful. I got stronger on the bike and found my sub-7 run pace, but I was unable to put together any meaningful races. My goals were more focused on family: we were remarkably successful in welcoming our son to the world and helping him grow into the little person he is today. I finished off the year by earning a 2:07 olympic distance time and as I crossed the line I remember thinking, "this may be it." I trained very little over the winter, got the flu for a couple of weeks and nursed an achilles and knee injury. The question came back up, "now what?"

After the half-marathon in January I had no plan. Work became increasingly frustrating, we dealt with being unhappy in our new neighborhood and the prospects of moving again, and several events have occurred that have brought upon much sadness to our world. I'm a firm believer in the simple idea that if you don't like the way something is, change it. Life is too short. So  I will declare with this blog post that the reversion back to my former self ends now with a new set of dreams and the goals to make them memories.

Race as an Elite triathlete
My local triathlon/bike shop, Tru Tri Sports, was offering up several sponsorships for the 2015 season at various levels: Elite, Podium and Age-grouper. Each had a set of defined requirements that needed to be met, along with a tiered benefit package with supporting items such as gear, nutrition, bike maintenance and group fitness. I told the Tru Tri team my story and why I love this sport, gave them my qualifying times and three weeks later I was accepted onto their Elite team. This is a huge opportunity and I cannot quantify with words how excited and grateful I am. I look forward to representing their brand and promoting their awesome shop in 2015. I'll be racing a minimum of 6 events for their team this year and volunteering at multiple other events throughout the season.

Ironman 70.3 - Texas

Cross the finish line in 4:48 or better. I will have to swim a 1:42/100m pace (33 minutes), cycle at 22.4 mph (150 minutes) and run at a 7:37/mi pace (100 minutes). 5 minutes in transition.

Podiums

Score top-3 at Tejas Triathlon (May 31), Shadow Creek (July 12) and Cypress (July 26). 

USAT National Championships - Olympic

- Travel to Old Milwaukee in August and finish in 2:05 or better. Then have a beer or two.

- Qualify for 2016 

Volunteer Time

I plan on volunteering (not showing up, racing and saying I volunteered) in at least three events throughout the year.

Be a Better Husband, Father Son and Brother

- Leave work at the back door when I get home

- Move my family when the timing is appropriate

- Visit my parents in CO

- Spend more time with my brother

- Tell my in-laws more often how much we appreciate their help

I feel more comfortable going into the last three quarters of the year with a road map. It also feels good to have a set of dreams/aspirations and the corresponding goals to make memories. I challenge you to ask yourself "what's next?"

And the Lord answered me, and said, "Write the vision and make it plain upon tables, that he may return that readeth it. For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry."

Habakkuk 2:2-3

2015 Aramco Houston Half Marathon recap - What's going on in your head?

Sunday marked my second time to complete the half-marathon sponsored by Chevron/Aramco in Houston. The first in 2008, the year I officially moved to Houston, was a difficult race both mentally and physically and I can remember barely moving across that finish line and crashing shortly thereafter. I, like many runners who sign up for these races, did not train adequately and paid the price when the event arrived (I remember my "long" run being 4 loops around Memorial Park).

As most endurance athletes can attest, the Monday after a race is filled with people popping their heads in and asking you how things went, how you're feeling, what your time was and the obligatory congratulations (all of which I truly enjoy answering). Today was special for me because a colleague asked how I kept focused and what went through my head during all of the miles. Great question and even better inspiration to type up a post for my blog.

Racing over long periods of time requires proper training of the cardiovascular system, the joints, bones and tissues and even more importantly, the brain. The feeling of pain is a mechanism by which your brain tells you stop, quit, sit down and take a break. It's synonymous with the check engine light in your car--doesn't mean you can't keep going, just means something isn't exactly right. The more you train, the longer it takes the check engine light to come on when you're moving. When the pain starts, it becomes your brain's mission to make you stop. There is a fine line between pushing the limits of your body and doing it harm, and I am by no means recommending anyone ignore what their body is telling them. If your legs feel good, your heart rate is steady and you are not physically ill, but you still want to quit, there are ways to override the system. Here are a few of mine.

#1 Make every mile a single event, compartmentalizing it. Avoid focusing on what mile you are in, what mile is next and calculating how far you have left to go. These actions fuel mental breakdowns. Focus instead on your pace, your form (extremely important), how you are feeling (hungry, thirsty, hot, cold, sore) and the distance left in this one mile run. Finish this mile as efficiently as you can, then move onto the next one.

#2 Use positive affirmations. Yes, talk to yourself. Endurance events are lonely so be your best friend out there. "KMF" "BYB" "SY" "FS" "NGU"...keep moving forward, be your best, surprise yourself, finish strong, never give up.

#3 Use other participants to pace yourself. I label other athletes by their kits/bibs or shoes: Newton, Asic, Zoot, Pearl, ORR, OUL, HRTC. If my pace is correct and another athlete is in sight, I make it my goal to catch them. Then I mark someone else and do the same.

#4 Every mile is an opportunity to think about someone in your life for XX minutes. Every single mile of the run courses I complete are devoted to a person in my life. I don't even have to think about it, it just pops up. Yesterday I can remember my grandfather, Gramps, popping up at mile 6 (I saw a spectator who looked just like him), I thought of Emily at mile 7 and how this would be our 7th wedding anniversary. Mom and Dad took mile 5. I thought of my good friend Jamie during the first mile and how I wish he was here running with me. My in-laws popped up at mile 8. Chris and Megan took mile 11. Jack took mile 13.

My official time in 2008 was 1:56:16 and measured an 8:52/mi pace. My official time in 2015 was 1:31:29 with a measured pace of 6:54/mi. While hard work and discipline play a small role in the improvement, the greatest gains come from being able to connect the hobby you are so passionate about to making yourself a better person at the same time. The body is useless without the mind and spirit. Congratulations to all of my friends who finished the full and half distances. Many thanks to Chris and Megan for being there in the darkest, mile 11. To Lee and Judi, Alex, Jack and Dina for being there at the finish. And especially to my wife for allowing me to pursue this crazy dream of mine while trying to be the best man I can be.

Now onto Galveston 70.3.

2014 reflection and 6 lessons for my Son

I haven't written in quite a while, partly due to time constraints and partly due to searching for the next bit of inspiration to keep it up. We welcomed our first child, a baby boy, Jack, on June 1, 2014 at 9:54 pm and my life has been turned upside down ever since. Needless to say, triathlon took a back burner along with sleep and coherence. In an effort to double-down on our stress levels, we decided to sell our home in the Heights and took on the management of building a home in the suburbs. Jack arrived two weeks after we moved in. I have never felt more loyalty and love for anything in my entire life; it is a feeling indescribable by words.

I started this blog to tell my story in order to motivate others by using triathlon as a metaphor, and as such, would like to continue that trend. This post will attempt to recount the 2014 triathlon season, take all of the things I learned and form them into lessons for Jack. Here goes nothing:

The older you get, the more things hurt. I began 2014 with a new hip and groin after having them surgically repaired in Oct 2013. The orthopedic surgeon suggested that years of abuse from playing football, running with poor form and not stretching had torn the group of ligaments that attached my quadricep muscle to my hip joint. My lesson to you: God gave you one set of tools for being active. Take care of them because the repaired version is never as good as the original. Choose your activity level wisely. And stretch.

Major decisions need time. Your mother and I are very good at many things. Making life changing decisions is not one of them (we're trying to get better). I can attribute the majority of the mistakes I've made in my life to being impatient. I've left jobs for what I thought was something better, more distinguished, only to find it was too soon. I've moved, thinking new scenery would provide a new set of opportunities. I've overspent on vehicles and homes. I've taken off too fast on the swim to find later that my heart rate was too high causing my bike and run to suffer. My lesson to you: Try to understand the phrase "Rome wasn't built in a day." Before you write a check and sign a legal document, sleep on it. Take a weekend to reflect on it. Write down the pros and cons. Run the numbers. Repeat.

Adversity is a good thing. My best friend and training partner accepted a new job in June and our time together ended abruptly. My work became increasingly challenging over the summer. Your mother and I struggled to find a balance in our home with the "new normal." When obstacles come your way and negativity surrounds you, there is a part of your brain that is going to tell you to get angry, to quit and to start over. My lesson to you: Adversity is a better fuel than an extinguisher. Take all of your anger, sadness, worry and doubt and turn it into something positive. Change the status quo. Ask anyone who has quit something because it was too hard and they'll tell you about the regret that they have to live with. Ask anyone who has pushed forward (even if they later failed) and they'll tell you about a lesson they learned and how it made them a better person.

Work harder than everyone around you. I have a weekly schedule and routine that I follow to a fault. With time being a constraint, I have to be efficient in all of my activities and everything I do has a purpose with no time being wasted, whether work, training or at home. Success for me takes work. I want to be the best husband, father, employee and triathlete that I can be and I don't ever want to feel like I could have given more. My lesson to you: Never finish a race with gas in your tank. Whether that race is helping out at home, working to close a transaction or a competitive athletic event, make sure you work harder (and smarter) than everyone around you. Not only will it make you better, but others will follow to keep up. As my great-grandmother used to say, "just do your best; that's all a mule can do."

Choose to be humble over prideful. Through racing locally over the past 3 years, writing a blog and being a part of a couple multi-sport teams, people talk to me about training and racing. I field a lot of questions and give out a lot of advice (hope it's all good). My real job is also consultative in nature and I advise management teams on how to improve their processes. My unique position comes with a choice: to build people up or break them down. My lesson to you: Never take your knowledge or success and use it to make someone feel like it is unattainable for them. Pride comes before a fall. Remember where you came from and how hard you worked to get to where you are, and inspire others to do the same.

Lastly and least important, I did a quick recap of my racing since my first race and built the attached table:

Looking back over the last three years, I can see marked improvements in every facet of my life. I am happier and healthier. I feel like I am a better husband now that I am a father. I learned to train smarter vs. training harder. I stopped taking work so personally and just try to show up everyday, work hard and do my best. My last lesson to you would be to find something that makes you happy and do it well. Then use it to inspire others to do well.


Kelly/Dad
Hebrews 12:1

Wind in the sails

"You cannot direct the wind, but you can change your sails."






It seems like ages since my last blog post, not for lack of content or inspiration, primarily because of time. This year is now 1/4 of the way completed and I wonder where the time goes...Over the last three months, my focus has been primarily on family. We sold our home (thank God) in 48 hours, are completing the build of our new home (hopefully at the end of this month) and have invaded my in-laws' for the interim as we wait to transition. The wind has changed our course from what was once a fast-paced inner city life focusing on happy hours, the newest dining experience and anti-commuting, to a life focused solely on preparing a suburban nest for Jack's arrival. I was, now admittedly, afraid of the changes and still find myself wondering if we made the right choices. But every time I see Emily's belly and feel the little dude kicking, I know we are right where we need to be.






Injury was the topic of discussion over the holidays and through the last couple of months. As of this writing, I can confidently say that I have never felt better about where I am mentally and physically. I still have the minor aches and pains that anyone would get from the volume of training that we do, but my hip is pain-free and has gradually improved back to where I feel normal again. I have learned a lot about control and managing expectations throughout this whole process and am almost glad I went through it. Almost.






One benefit to our current (and future) living arrangement is that I have changed training grounds, effort and schedule. Jamie and I are now able to train 4-5 times per week during the lunch hour(s) which has been mutually beneficial (at least for me). The club we are members of offers spin, an indoor track, free weights and most importantly, amenities to allow for clean-up and return to work. Why didn't we think of this when we were training for IM? Change the sails.




I focused all of my efforts over the off-season on strength training, primarily in my legs and shoulders. After the half-marathon in January, I resumed my efforts to triathlon. The focus has been, quite simply, speed. We run intervals at 5min/mi paces. We do high velocity spin workouts. We focus on heart rate and extending the race pace. I wish I could insert something in here about swimming, but this has ultimately been neglected and will return to focus this weekend....






The hard work has paid off.






I competed in my first race of the year on March 29: the No Label Brewery triathlon in Katy. I had no expectations for the race, other than to see how far I could push, and was expecting a crowd of 200 people who just wanted to workout for a bit and then drink beer the rest of the day. When I racked my bike in the open-rack T1, I saw three rows full of decked-out carbon machines and the owners were not who I was expecting. In fact, I immediately spotted a group of athletes that we raced against all of last year. Contrary to my vision for the race, the organizer had been able to attract a field of 400 athletes, a dozen or so whom either raced elite last year or got extremely close. I turned in a 1:04 which was good enough to earn 3rd place in my age group and a trip to the podium (11th overall). The swim was slower than normal, but I'll blame it on being caught up in the snake lanes. My bike was average (had a wheel rubbing my brake for the first 5 miles) and the run was great at a 5:57min/mi pace. The most exciting thing about this race is that it counts towards my elite status qualification since I finished within 10% of the overall winner's time (under 5% actually).



I opted for the double-header and ran the Run for the Rose 5k the next morning to support a cause that was dear to Jamie after the loss of a childhood friend to brain cancer. Jamie had set out to win the race and I was going to be towed around the course, however, the triathlon on the day before took some fuel from my tank and I couldn't run on his heels the entire race. Jamie absolutely crushed this run and went on to place 2nd in our age group and earned a top 10 overall spot in the race. The hard work has paid off for him as well...I was able to kick my legs to a 6th place in age group and 13th overall, averaging 6:24min/mi.






I look back on the past couple of years and realize how much I have changed for the better as a person, and I continue to attribute this to the drive and determination to improve athletically. I have goals and can see them met with hard work. My mind is clear and my body feels great. Obstacles have become challenges both professionally and personally. For me, tomorrow is always a new opportunity to prove something to myself.






I tell people all the time, if you don't like something about your situation, change it. Don't settle for the status quo. When the wind blows, change your sails.

A lookback of 2013 and my 2014 list

"So much of our time is preparation, so much is routine, and so much retrospect, that the path of each man's genius contracts itself to a very few hours."

What a year 2013 turned out to be...it's hard to believe that so many things fit into such a small 365 day window and that there was any time left to simply breathe, let alone exhibit any form of genius. Emerson said it best.

Preparation
2013 began with Emily and I preparing: We prepared for our fifth year of marriage. We prepared to grow our family. We prepared, as is obvious from this blog, for ironman. Along the way there were many things that went according to plan, like completing IMTX and qualifying for USAT Nationals, growing the relationship with Emily as we attempted to get pregnant and purchasing a new home to fit our anticipated larger family. There were also things that did not, such as losing our first pregnancy and having hip surgery. As is with anything in life, the preparation has paid off. As we embark on 2014, we have an 18-week old baby boy doing summersaults in Emily's belly, the foundation has been poured for our new home in the burbs and we are all (2+1+2 dogs) healthy.

Routine
Three words: work, work and work. I am currently responsible for the financial operations of twelve small-cap E&P companies located in Texas, New Mexico and the Gulf of Mexico. Work is routine and is not my passion, but I understand it and think I might be pretty good at it, however I definitely prefer to be outdoors in the sun. I am a perpetual attendee of conference calls, budget meetings and board meetings. After typing this, I can understand why I am so active outside of the office....

Retrospect
In retrospect to 2013, I have learned that Emily and I are resilient people. I could blame this on extreme hard-headedness but I'd rather (and truly) believe that we are, quite simply, tough. Our personalities feed on challenge. I look back at all we have endured individually and as a couple and it amazes me at how much stronger we are now than we were 5 years ago. We both approach life as an endurance event, taking what it gives us and moving forward faster than we were at the last hurdle. I am proud of us.

Genius
Genius for me were those moments when I pushed myself until I felt like I could not take another step, but I moved one foot in front of the other and kept moving forward. The applications of this principle are vast and reach so much further than athletic accomplishments. I view the world differently now. The people who told you growing up that you could accomplish anything you set your mind to were absolutely correct, whether or not they meant it or you believed it at the time. The world is full of people who are either too afraid to try or quit too soon. The genius for me is knowing that I will never be a part of this group.

My 2014 List

1. I will wake up everyday and accomplish something that positively affects the world I live in.
2. I will make a conscious effort to forgive no matter how badly I am hurt.
3. I will give more than I receive. 
4. I will choose my words (and tone) more wisely.
5. I will follow God's commandments.
6. I will pray everyday.
7. I will be thankful for my plight, understanding that somewhere out there, someone's predicament is worse.
8. I will do something active everyday.
9. I will be more conscious of the way I treat my body, aka, I will stretch more.
10. I will call old friends once a month.
11. I will complete another ironman this year.
12. I will learn to embrace traffic, and again, choose my words more wisely.
13. I will watch less TV and read more books.
14. I will learn to be a father.
15. I will travel somewhere new and experience a new culture.
16. I will #keepmovingforward

Kelly

My Journey Through Hip Labrum Recovery: Entry 6 - Eight Weeks

The heights by great men reached and kept
Were not obtained by sudden flight;
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.
Standing on what too long we bore,
With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,
We may discern-unseen before-
A path to higher destinies!
~Longfellow

Today marks the 8th week (plus 1 day) after I had my hip labrum repaired and my iliopsoas lengthened. People keep asking how I am doing, which I've found to be a tough question to answer. Do I feel sick? No. Can I walk? Yes. Am I back to working out? Sort of. Does it still hurt? Sometimes more than I think it should. Is it healed? Some days I can say yes, and others I confidently say no.

Physical therapy for my particular recovery began the day after surgery. I had the surgery, took a couple hydrocodone and was back in the hospital for a post-op 17 hours later where they plopped me on the table and stretched my leg out. From what I can remember, they were able to get 10% range of motion in the joint during this visit and the scope holes were cleaned. My next PT appointment was more formal and I met my actual trainers at the Ironman Sports Medicine Institute 3 days later. This is when the real fun began.

Let me just get this out there without a sugar coating: physical therapy sucks. Really sucks. On my first visit with my new best friends, they picked me up, put me on a stationary bike and told me to get to work. Up to this point, I had not moved the leg from 180 degrees in three days in fear of doing damage to my doctor's artwork. After a couple of revolutions of the pedals, there was an immediate release of pressure in the joint and I felt relief for the first time. I got in 5min of slow spinning and then laid on a table for a 30 min evaluation of the joint, the iliopsoas and all of the surrounding muscles/tendons in my leg. I was released and told to come back in 2 days. The 48 hours that elapsed between my first and second visit to the IM Institute were excruciating, both physically and mentally. The lack of use of my leg was causing sever muscle spasms, the 2 holes in my leg were constantly throbbing and I felt like someone stuck a knife in my lower abdomen. Not to mention the band-aid glue had given me a rash and  the meds were making me emotional and giving me headaches.

On the second visit to PT, I gave them a briefing of what I was feeling, which immediately led into a 45 min stretching session that bent me like a pretzel. I found out afterwards that the guys had visited my doctor and he had given them direction to "release" the tendons and to break up the "junk" that had built up in my hip after the surgery. Dead tissue + platelet therapy blood + drilling holes through my quad + sawing down the iliopsoas = massive fluid and debris build up that has nowhere to go. Like a guest who stays at the party too long, I was glad to see it leave and the feeling I felt upon release is indescribable with words. I was feeling much better.

Over the next 3 weeks I would graduate to spinning longer, stretching more, walking on my own, using the row machine and begin to do squats. I was also cleared to get back into the pool when my stitches were removed during week 3, so swimming with a pull buoy became a regular activity. For every bad day, there were two good ones and I was finally starting to sleep through the night.

By week 6, I was able to frequent the gym, focusing on weight training, swimming (with buoy) and higher velocity spinning. I was also doing crossfit-esque workouts with kettle bells, dumb bells, medicine balls, etc. etc. I also began jumping rope for 30 second intervals. The pain was still there but centralized on the muscles that stabilized the hip rather then the hip itself. I was sleeping again, albeit more sore from working out, but getting 6 hours a night without pain medication. My 6 week post-op appointment with Dr. Adickes was a success and I was given a PT prescription to prepare for running in 4 weeks. Feeling great and getting stronger.

Week 7 PT activity ramped up to the point of squatting with weight, jumping rope, short-distance jumping, lunges, and all of the above workouts combined. I was also going through "release therapy" whereby my iliopsoas was being released at each visit. Pain level was 3/10 and I was getting stronger on the bike, swimming with kicks and working out harder in the gym. Sleep was good and no more pain meds.

At the beginning of week 8 (this week) I was feeling good about my progress and was gaining confidence in my ability to jog a little (10-20 feet) and keep the pain subsided. As I was putting on my pants on Tuesday morning, I felt a snap as I lifted my leg and there was an immediate soreness in the abdomen, groin and hip area. I made it through the day by taking some pain meds at lunch and took it easy the rest of the day knowing I had PT on Wed morning. My trainers had a full 1:15 workout planned which was derailed when they listened to what happened the day before. It was immediately back to the table for an evaluation and I spent the rest of the session stretching and trying to release the sore tendons. Apparently the iliopsoas had tightened up to the point that it was rubbing on the front of my hip (which is why Dr. Adickes cut and extended it) and it took over 30 min to get it to release by pushing through my abdominal wall and lifting my leg straight up into the air. Needless to say, this is a setback at this point in the process as I am scheduled to resume jogging on the 20th of Dec. We were supposed to be ramping up calisthenics and instead are making sure the muscles get some rest. I have a tough PT workout scheduled for Monday the 9th and am hoping I can maintain the 3/10 pain level until then. So now I would say, 3 good days to 1 bad day.

When I made the decision to have the surgery back in September, I had visualized being up and running by mid-January. As of today, I am still on track, although the pain I feel when I jog across the room is eerily similar to the pain I had pre-surgery. This tells me I am not ready just yet. The non-vascularity of the hip joint makes the healing time doubly longer than normal injuries. And given the way it tightened up on me this week, it's not ready.

I thought a weekly activity summary might be helpful for folks having the same issue, just to know what to expect. I wish I had known prior to my experience....

Week 1: Stretch, stretch, stretch, rest.
Week 2: Stationary bike, rowing, upper body weight training plus above
Week 3: Walking, swimming (pulling) plus above
Week 4: Body weight squats, jogger stretches plus above
Week 5: Tendon release therapy plus above
Week 6: Jump rope, crossfit, high velocity spinning plus above
Week 7: Deadlifts, weighted squats, lunges plus above
Week 8: All of the above

Week 9 - 10 forecast: treadmill, side-to-side motions, stair climber, power cleans *and hopefully* jogging....

If this was a test of my metal, I'd no doubt say that this is just piece of the continual journey that I am on. It's the off-season and I am recovering. I have toiled upwards in the night while others have slept. The inspiration I'd like to impart would be to never quit. Don't just say it casually or read it off of a motivational poster...Never quit. Anything (unless its smoking or doing illicit drugs, etc.). Remember, the finish line doesn't move or change--it's always there and waiting to be attained. It's the person that chooses to move forward or give up.

Big news about 2014 racing to come...For now, keep moving forward.

Kelly

My Journey Through Hip Labrum Recovery: Entry 5 - Two Weeks

Moving on.

I had my 2 week post-op visit with Dr. Adickes last Friday and my stitches were removed. The incisions are gnarly and the Band-Aid glue has been helpful in providing me with a nice rash. We discussed the rehab protocol, weaning from the crutches and the forward plan. We are moving on.

Physical therapy has been grueling and my body feels more tired than in the hours post-ironman. No matter your fitness level, everything is twice as hard when you have little muscle memory in your quads and adductor, and I find myself getting frustrated with how difficult the simplest exercises are to complete. The therapists know this and reward me with trips to the stationary bike as an end to the sessions. I can still spin 100+ rpm's consistently for extended time periods without my breath laboring. That's when I'm in my element and feel good about where I'm at, the proverbial trip down the finisher's chute. I find recovery from the therapy sessions takes much longer than I am used to and am having to re-learn patience and trusting my body's cues as to when it needs rest and attention. Both elements that I took for granted not more than a month ago.

I have completely removed myself from the pain medications and choose to only medicate with the daily arthritis preventative and the compound cream that I received as part of rehab. I find the combination of these two keep the headaches away and allow me to move about freely without too much pain. The CPM machine is gone. Sleeping is difficult. I wore the "shackle" brace the first two weeks and am finding that removing it is helping me sleep better. You never really appreciate how much you move in your sleep until you are restricted from doing so (get the theme here?). So instead, I have been building forts with pillows and sleep in a pillow-box to keep from rolling over. Reversion to adolescence?

I am back at work full-time and am in the process of moving my office furniture back to pre-surgery design. It is extremely comfortable to sit like this (although not very functional):

I have to get up and walk multiple times throughout the day to keep the blood flowing in my legs. Sitting and standing are the most painful activities because you cannot help placing your hips into angles that it does not want to be in. The comments about the creaking crutches have stopped, and now the joke is centered around how I "can sneak up on people again." The ladies in my office still insist on bringing me bottles of water and laffy taffy even though I've told them multiple times that I am not a quadriplegic. I'll take all the love I can get....

Therapy is now centered around regaining muscle strength in my legs, more specifically, the quad, groin, hamstring and glute. I am tasked with going to the gym everyday to ride the stationary bike, do box squats, leg extensions, calf raises, leg press (avoiding 90 degree angles) and all of the upper body lifting I can handle. I cannot use free-weights just yet, so everything is done with a machine. There is also a very strict regiment of planking and bridging that I am tasked with everyday. Never thought I'd say it, but I miss the pool. And the pavement. And the sweat. Maybe even the spandex, just a little? Here is my first visit to the stationary bike:

My mood swings like a pendulum as each perceived victory is followed by a succession of defeats. I keep telling myself that I am lucky and things could be much worse. I pray, knowing that there is a lesson to be learned from all of this. Still I find myself on twitter reading about races and training, and hear my friends talking about progression and I feel lost. Something that was both inspiring and soothing was taken from me and my soul hurts. I say "sorry" more than I used to as I am often times offensive and bitter. It's difficult to mask the amount of physical pain, let alone the emotional pain that comes with not being able to fully function. I have a new found respect for those who are permanently crippled...they win a race everyday.

The pain in my hip is deep and it aches. But I am getting better. I can walk without crutches, albeit slowly. For all of the bad information on the web pertaining to this injury, the best thing I read about was the super-extensive recovery time. This is not a knee injury--they heal faster. Being a non-vascular joint means there is no blood flow to the injury or the repair, so it is taking my body much longer to absorb the work that was done. At this point in the recovery, my doctors are estimating a return to light jogging in mid-January and a return to pre-injury status in May-June. This gives me 2-3 months of preparation for the USAT nationals in August which I plan on attending. But for now, I will just take an hour without pain. Maybe even 30 minutes.

"Let it go. Let it roll right off your shoulder. Don't you know, the hardest part is over. Let it in. Let your clarity define you in the end. We will only just remember how it feels."

My Journey Through Hip Labrum Recovery: Entry 4 - One Week

"He reveals the deep things of darkness and brings deep shadows into the light" (Job 12:22)

I was just thinking last night about how it had been a full week since my surgery and that I needed to take all of the inspirations from the past week and begin writing. It wasn't until I began reading through my emails and noticed a quote that I felt I had enough to get going. "Life is often lived forward, but understood backward."

The above scripture and quote pretty much summarize how the first week of this journey has been for me. After the spinal tap wore off and I began weaning myself off of the 4 medications I was prescribed, life got more interesting by unveiling what had actually been done to my body on Oct 10, and more importantly, what had been done to my body over the last two years. I suspect that it was coming down off of the meds that filled me with the realization that I was now completely helpless and 100% reliant on outside things/individuals. Pain. Depression. Panic. Of course once you start to see the darkness you continue to toe in deeper and deeper until you are totally encompassed in negativity and self-doubt. My thoughts were consumed by the prospects of never walking, let alone, running again. Is this pain was always going to be here? Was that a pop I just heard? Is this pain normal? Should I call the doctor? I hate laying in this bed hooked up to this machine . I hate having to call Emily to come lift me up so that I can go pee. I hate being stuck indoors. I hate my email notification noise. I hate everything....

I actually cried for the first time in many years. Then some very powerful words that I have used over and over again hit me. "Dig deep. Keep moving forward. Surprise Yourself. Be the Best." The personal mantras that I wrote about several months ago were still there. What was most surprising is that they were as effective, if not more, in this life scenario vs. their normal triathlon scenario.

The day before my surgery I had dinner with some very dear friends who live in our neighborhood. Not sure if it was the fear in my eyes or them sensing the stress and worry that I was harboring at the time, but they said something to me that was punctual for the moment, but did not truly resonate until I went through the dark place mentioned above. 'You are going through this and when you get out, you are going to appreciate your body and what you have been able to do with it even more. The universe has its own way of giving back.'

God has a way of communicating to us and I truly believe that most of the time we miss it. In this moment, the succession of events had to be perfect for me to understand the message. I had gotten to a place in triathlon where it was becoming easy and I was unappreciative of the fact that I could not only finish the race but that I could finish in the top 10 of my age group. I was unappreciative of the fact that training was no longer grueling and laborious. I was unappreciative of my body. Further, if I didn't finish well, I was angry with myself, training had become a process and I never sat back and evaluated how my body was reacting to the stress.

Please see the metaphor in all of this. All of these actions were transpiring in my life outside of this sport as well. You are not a different person in each facet of your life, it is impossible. You are who you are, and you will be who you will be no matter what you are doing. That's why it is so important to live a healthy life in everything you do. I had taken this too far, too fast, and no longer appreciated the hard work or the machine used to do it. God was reeling me back in.

As for the less important message, my body is still healing. I was able to get into the Ironman Sports Institute for physical therapy and could not be more pleased with the facility and my trainers. I am hurting and I can tell that things are not right in my hip and adductor, but I have faith and I put my full trust in Dr. Adickes' ability to heal. I have trouble getting out of bed, bending my torso anywhere near 90 degrees (putting on shoes, putting on pants, petting the dogs, etc. etc.), and need help carrying anything that will not effectively travel in my backpack. I do hear popping and snapping noises. As a result of the adductor reposition, I have no muscle memory of lifting my leg, or holding it elevated with my quad. My abdomen hurts. My butt hurts. My hip still hurts. And more worrisome, my other leg is aching in all of its joints from taking on the burden of my dead leg. Oh, and I still cannot feel certain very crucial areas of my body after the spinal tap (use your imagination). No red flags or alarms need to go off just yet for any of the above as they are all part of the process.

I am optimistic.

Take away the tangibles from the surgery but also understand the most important lesson in all of this: be very cautious as to who and what you serve. We go through the dark places because we lack focus and judgment. God wants us to be successful, but our success must positively impact others. Not just ourselves.

My Journey Through Hip Labrum Recovery: Entry 3 - Recovering

This morning marks day 5 of the recovery process since the surgery to repair my hip. When I was told this was my only option to run with the same intensity ever again, I started the process of doing research to better understand the mechanics of the surgery, the aftermath and any tips athletes had to offer from their experience. Along with what my research uncovered, I now have my own set of universal truths that I would like to share in hopes of educating those going through the same thing.

• First of all, it's not the end of the world. More than likely, you will be able to resume your pre-jacked up hip activities. The flip side is that it's not days or weeks, but months before you can do so. Learn to accept this and build upon your patience level (which the majority of triathletes have zero, so this is a good place to start).
• Opt in for the spinal tap before surgery...it will save you 12 hours of misery afterwards.
• Realize that you are going to need help doing the normal, mundane things that are typically taken for granted and understand that you will absolutely have to ask for help... Sitting up. Sitting down. Putting on underwear (or just go with gym shorts full-time). Putting on socks. Showering. Moving pillows. And last/most important/most personal, going to the bathroom (which by the way is a marathon in and of itself). This is not a training run, you cannot do any of these by yourself.
•  The CPM machine sucks, You have to wear this thing for 6 hours/day and it is loud, uncomfortable and monotonous. Imagine the worst amusement park ride ever built: it takes your knee up to the angle you choose, then back down. And does it again. And again. And just when you think it might deviate, it does it again. But wear it to prevent atrophy in your leg and protect those quads that you have worked so hard to build up,
• Medications...I have 4 prescriptions for pills and 2 prescriptions for topical compounds. There is absolutely no way that you are going to remember to take 1 pill every 4 hours, another every 6, another once a day and another only if your stomach hurts (and then every 2-3 hours). That and you need to rub a NSAI cream on your hip. I built a spreadsheet, no joke.
• Stay hydrated. You will wake up with hangover-esque headaches otherwise...I use coconut water, G2 and tons of water.
• Crackers are a life saver when your stomach is aching.
• Larabars have become my breakfast, lunch and dinner.
• Crutches suck. I went to amazon.com and bought these things called "crutcheze" which have been extremely helpful in preventing sores on my hands and underarms.
• Start physical therapy immediately, otherwise you will start getting sore on parts of your body that didn't have holes punched into them.
• Get plenty of books and magazines to read.
• Load up your ipod with music that can play while you doze in and out of consciousness.
• Those geek socks that race directors give away in their swag bags are awesome to sleep in.
• Count your blessings...

I am hanging in there and progressing quite well. I am able to put weight on my foot while on crutches and I have my first physical therapy session this afternoon, so things are turning around for the best. The pain is manageable and I am getting better at managing the logistics of getting around. I owe all of my progress, from the surgery to now, to the prayers and thoughts of all of my family and friends. There is absolutely no way to do it otherwise!

Will follow-up after PT this afternoon. Thanks for keeping up with my adventure.

Kelly

My Journey Through Hip Labrum Recovery: Entry 2 - Post Op

My day started off at 7am when I got up, packed for the weekend and took what would be the only shower I could take in the next 3 days. I had made the decision earlier in the week to stay at my awesome in-laws' home to avoid the 3 sets of stairs at our home in the Heights. We arrived at the Ironman Institute promptly at 10am, signed a 5" stack of paperwork, swiped my debit card for the 10th time and then waited for about 15min before being called back to my pre-op room. My attending nurse, Debra, was a lovely and energetic person who was a believer and wished me good luck over and over again. She was also a runner and had backpacked through Europe, so her stories were entertaining and consuming.

Dr. Adickes was behind schedule for the day by over 4 hours, so the nurses brought me a DVD player and I was able to watch Argo while we waited. The best part of the waiting came when the anesthesiologist came by to prep for the spinal tap that I had pre-approved to aid in the recovery process. A few drops of magic into the IV and I was in an alternate universe with no recollection of what happened in the movie. Is Argo the name of the movie or the name of Ben Affleck's character? No clue. At approximately 230pm. the anesthesiologist assistant, Terry, came by and administered another dose of juice and the anesthesiologist, John, came by and stuck 2 holes in my back and my leg started twitching uncontrollably. I felt nothing, but heard him say "perfect." 30 seconds later I was being wheeled back into the operating room and transferred to the table.

I can remember one of the nurses asking me about Ironman and telling me that she was just starting to begin running as a hobby, and the last thing I remember was me telling her to "pick a different hobby." Probably not my best moment, but at least I was being honest...Oxygen mask on, lights out.

When I woke up, I immediately pulled down my gown and blanket to see how many incisions I had. The attending nurse came over and asked what I thought I was doing and I told him I was checking to see how bad the surgery was. He told me it was the best case scenario: that they had only been in for 1.5 hours and that the repairs were successful. After chugging 4 glasses of water (hadn't had anything since 9pm the night before and it was 630 pm), I was wheeled out of the post-op room and fitted for my crutches. The Breg brace was handed over along with a bag full of meds, and I was wheeled out to the car. Quick and easy.

The night was long and painful. My leg was slowly coming back to life from the spinal tap and all of my muscles were twitching simultaneously. Since everything from the belly down was numb, I felt like I had to pee all night. Getting out of bed and onto the crutches was a chore and I needed help lifting up my foot because I had no strength (or feeling) in my upper leg. The vicodin and valium regiment kept me comfortable and I was able to make it until it was time to leave for my follow-up appointment at 745am the next morning. Traffic was typical for Houston and we made it just in time to make the 945am appointment. Here are the pics from the surgery showing the torn labrum being trimmed and the metallic spacer being put into the adductor:

Dr. Adickes has to be one of the nicest and most direct doctors I have ever encountered. He explained exactly what he did, went through all of the pictures and told me the causes of the injury. Hip was impinged through riding bike in aero position, stretching the hip adductor and then immediately lengthening the adductor by running afterwards. The injury should be avoided by the repositioning and stretching that the doc did, along with minor adjustments to the bike setup and a through stretching regiment when racing/training. Made an additional appointment for two weeks out to have the stitches removed and then left to meet the CPM salesman at the house.

The CPM machine is terrible. Imagine 6 hours of buzzing noises and your knee moving up and down, over and over again. I have to do this everyday, for 14 days. Here is the a-hole at work:

Physical therapy begins immediately, which for me means Tuesday since that is the earliest I can get in. I have been instructed to ride the stationary bike everyday and begin water running after two weeks Total therapy time is 3x/week for 4 weeks. The anticipation from Dr. Adickes is the utilize the crutches for 21 days, remain home from work for 1 week. Swimming with pool buoy and water jogging after 2 weeks. I was told to not even think about running until March 2014....

So as of this first entry, I am in a good place. I'm sore but I am confident. Having my red raiders on TV right now and being able to watch full coverage of the Ironman World Championship in Kona has helped to alleviate some of the worry.

Special thanks to my mother-in-law who is "supermom" for driving me all over town. Special thanks to my wife for waiting on me hand and foot. Special thanks to all of the doctors and nurses at the Ironman Institute. Special thanks to Dr. Adickes. Special thanks to mom, dad, brother and sister-in-law for prayers and texts. And last but definitely not least, thanks to countless family and friends who have emailed and called to wish me luck and check in with me. Especially Jamie and Nikki who dropped off the most amazing care package one could ever imagine! I am truly blessed!

Now back to my coconut water, football games and IM Kona. Follow-up blog on the way...

Kelly