"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.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Friday, January 3, 2014
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
Kelly
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
- I will wake up everyday and accomplish something that positively affects the world I live in.
- I will make a conscious effort to forgive no matter how badly I am hurt.
- I will give more than I receive.
- I will choose my words (and tone) more wisely.
- I will follow God's commandments.
- I will pray everyday.
- I will be thankful for my plight, understanding that somewhere out there, someone's predicament is worse.
- I will do something active everyday.
- I will be more conscious of the way I treat my body, aka, I will stretch more.
- I will call old friends once a month.
- I will complete another ironman this year.
- I will learn to embrace traffic, and again, choose my words more wisely.
- I will watch less TV and read more books.
- I will learn to be a father.
- I will travel somewhere new and experience a new culture.
- I will #keepmovingforward
Kelly
Friday, December 6, 2013
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
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
Thursday, October 31, 2013
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."
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):
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."
Saturday, October 19, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
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.
Will follow-up after PT this afternoon. Thanks for keeping up with my adventure.
Kelly
- 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...
Will follow-up after PT this afternoon. Thanks for keeping up with my adventure.
Kelly
Saturday, October 12, 2013
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
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
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