WARNING! THIS BLOG CONTAINS LOTS OF WORDS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
The lights were
still on, and bright as aircraft landing lights, as I ran, almost staggering
along the chute, to where I could see the inflated 'FINISH' arch and the timing
mats. People were cheering and yelling my name; it was dark and I had no idea
what time it was, but I knew that I'd see the timing clock any second. It had
been a loooooong day, hot, windy, hotter and windier, but at last I was finished;
I crossed the timing mat and I heard those words that I'd dreamt about for four
years, 'Aloha Dean, you are an Ironman!'. Whoooooooosh!……. I woke up in a sweat
with my heart racing and pounding like a kudu drum. It wasn't the first dream
I'd had about competing in Kona Ironman in Hawaii, and it wouldn't be the last,
but for the time being my plans for this event will have to well and truly go
on the back burner. Not forgotten, just
postponed!
This particular
blog is primarily for me! Of course if others read it, maybe they'll get
something out of it too, but mainly it's for me. A kind of redemption, a
reflection, a rebuke, a re-evaluation. It hasn't been easy, it's not easy, but
it's necessary if I want to maintain a good quality of life both for myself and
for my Beautiful Wife, Jaci. It's been a roller coaster ride for both of us to
get to this point and I suppose I need to inadvertently thank my attempt at The
North Face 50 for my decision to 'pull my horns in' and consider my health
rather than charge ahead to do things that I now realise will kill me. Yep,
KILL ME! So let me drift back to May, 2012, just after TNF100 and my DNF due to
a fall on Narrowneck.
I had said that no
matter what happened on TNF100, 2012, I would not do it again. After the DNF I
decided that I couldn't leave it unfinished so I was prepared to train for 12
months, again, to get the elusive bronze buckle. That wasn't enough for me, because I also
wanted to complete in a Ironman 70.3 (Half Ironman) as a lead up to ultimately,
at the age of 70 anyway, competing in the Kona Ironman in Hawaii. So, at that
stage my cup runneth over, and I set about training for an ultra as well as
spending time learning and relearning new disciplines; swimming, road bike and
road running. I now know that it's near impossible to try to train effectively
for all the events. Anyway, that's not what pulled me up short. Something came
to a head in November, 2012 that was to change our lives; probably
forever!
I had been swimming
in the Bay in preparation for the Port Macquarie Ironman 70.3 that I had
registered for about a month previously, when I started to notice that at about
a K, I would begin wheezing and it would get to the point that I couldn't
breathe and as a consequence I would feel weak, unable to continue. This went
on for about a month, so I decided to go to my GP, Dr Letitia. She tried me on
puffers with little success, then sent me for a chest x ray. As soon as she
looked at the pic, I knew something was not right. She conferred with a
colleague and announced that she thought that I could have a malignancy, a golf
ball sized tumour in the right lung and a smaller one in the left lung. I was
speechless and of course in complete denial. To make the story a little
shorter, over the next three months, through a long needle biopsy, X-rays,
scans and eventually a combined lung biopsy, thorascopy, and broncoscopy, along
with consultations with my Respiratory Specialist, Dr Geoff and a
Cardio-thoracic Surgeon, it was decided that there was no malignancy, rather I
could have ‘cryptogenic organising pneumonia’, or worse, ‘vasculitis’, both
auto-immune diseases, the latter being the worst. All the medicos decided on
pneumonia, because that was the least damaging. At least we now knew.......sort
of! Throughout this time I was coughing constantly, 24 hours a day, usually
non-productive, but the pain and exertion were horrendous. So treatment started; corticosteroids daily,
with other meds to counteract the side effects. One lot of side effects I
hadn't counted on were those that made me 'menopausal'; mood swings, sweats,
anxiety, irritability, more mood swings. Jaci, throughout all this was my rock
and I realised that she was going through hell because not only did she not
know what was going on with me, but she couldn’t experience the pain and
discomfort that I was; at least I physically knew what was happening with my
body.
My training plans
needed to change; forget TNF100 (I'd just organised to transfer an entry, so
that had to be cancelled), Port Ironman 70.3 was out, and so was the inaugural
Sunshine Coast Ironman 70.3 (cancelled those for 50% refund because the entries
were non-transferable), TNF 50 was to be the focus because at least I would
only be out in the ‘warmer’ daylight hours, as opposed to running through the
freezing cold night/morning hours in the Blue Mountains. So my revised training schedule began;
walking and running, cross training on the road and mountain bikes, gym,
swimming in the Bay, hills and distance sessions. I had grandiose ideas about what I should be
achieving in my training, but one factor keep coming up that I knew was not a
good thing; every time I exerted myself,
or overdid the session, I would begin coughing, usually about five minutes into
a run or ride or a couple of hundred metres in a swim. Not sooooo bad? The coughing unfortunately was sometimes - usually,
accompanied by blood – haemoptysis! I
knew this was not a good thing, but I had to keep training. During these months my steroid meds were
being reduced until one day I was coughing constantly with blood all the
time. Dr Geoff told me to immediately go
back up to the higher dose; it helped but did not stop. After further consultation with Dr Geoff, I
was put on a chemotherapy drug, methotrexate, once a week along with folate as
a buffer. In addition to all these
little beauties, I had to supplement myself with iron (to minimise anaemia),
and calcium (to minimise osteoporosis).
The first day I took the methotrexate, I also went for a run. BIG mistake!
It not only wiped me out for the rest of the day but the coughing blood
became worse. Talk about a roller
coaster ride; up and down like a toilet seat. So, by medical necessity my rest
day became my metho day. Life…… and
training go on! This period of time I
found particularly difficult; on the one hand knowing that I was a sick puppy
and needing to not push too hard; on the other hand wanting and needing to
train for TNF 50, and who knows what else? Jaci found it difficult too cause
she had to put up with this cranky Old Fart!
Fast forward to the
start of May; I’m feeling reasonably good, in fact I’m ready for TNF 50. I’ve done the Ks, I’ve done the hills and
stairs, my breathing is not all that crash-hot but good enough that I can keep
going for four or five hours, running and walking. My training partners, Marty, Michael, Ron,
Bec are all going really well and Marty and Michael are looking forward to good
times at TNF, Marty the 100, Michael the 50.
Bec eventually decides that she’ll re-visit the TNF 100 next year and
Ron is going to sweep this year, with Jaci.
As well, Olly, Frank and Charly were ramping up the Ks and they were all
confident of a good TNF 50. Taper time - time to get the mental and emotional side
working. All things being equal I should
be able to pull a 9 hour TNF 50; 7 would be nice, but I’ll even settle for 10
hours. Boy, was I kidding myself, or
what? I didn’t realise at that time just
how hard the 50 would be and I sure-as-hell didn’t figure on the ‘Bung Lung
Syndrome’ jeopardising my life
The Blue Mountains
in May are, to say the least, beautiful, majestic, picturesque, foggy and
cold! Arriving here on the Thursday
prior to TNF gives us a couple of days to acclimatise and rest…..and meet up
with friends, like the Woodies. Coffee
of course is mandatory and, I think the ultimate socialiser. I notice straight away that my cough is more
persistent, particularly when I walk or run; not good, but I don’t say anything
to anybody. It’ll be OK! Jaci is going to Sweep some of the 50 and 100
trails over the weekend and she is also involved at Rego on Friday night. Busy times for her, but she will run TNF 100
next year and maybe I will sweep. But
for the moment I’ll concentrate on starting the TNF 50 on Saturday morning, the
18th May, 2013 at 9 am. The
TNF 100 starts at 7 am, so we want to be there to cheer all our friends off on
that epic event.
Saturday morning
sneaks up quicker than I would like but we drive to the Fairmont Resort early,
about 5:30 am, still dark and the roads are chokka block with traffic, cars and
pedestrians, with the poor volunteers trying to keep some order with parking
and people. We eventually get to the
resort and meet up with lots of people we know, wishing them luck for those who
are running, light conversation for those who are supporting. Pre-race TNF is a
unique time, from rego right up to the starting gun; the energy around the area
is electric and you can’t help but feel positive, enthusiastic, motivated,
inspired, emotional. It’s as if you are
a member of the one family (which of course you are because the trail running
community is very similar to a close-knit family in many respects). It is difficult to explain to anybody who has
not experienced the start of a major endurance event, because the feelings are
inexplicable, they need to be experienced.
So it is on this cold, foggy, dry, sunny morning at the start of TNF 100
at around 7:00 am, six start groups about 10 minutes apart, with about 200
runners in each wave; unbelievable! Two
hours later we TNF 50 runners are lined up on the golf course, brain-dead and chatting
incoherently, most of us wondering what the hell we are doing there, some of us
ready and raring to go; three start groups of about 150 in each group, 10
minutes apart. The next thing I know, we
are off and running, a lap around the golf course first before we head down
into Lillian’s Glen to the bridge. I
have problems even at this early stage, having to walk because I start
coughing. It’s slow going through to
Conservation Hut, but then I meet up with Michael and we run/walk through to
Checkpoint 501 at Queen Vic Hospital.
We’ve made pretty good time to here, but I notice the coughing
coinciding with running thing more now. We stay in the checkpoint only long
enough to fill hydration bladders and grab a couple of bananas, then off down
Kedumba. Running down Kedumba is a
breeze and I’m thankful for all the downhill training, because I’m able to pass
heaps of people and the breathing is much easier. At this stage I think, ‘You bloody beauty,
I’ve got it made and everything will be unkey dorey!’ Then we come to the Sublime Point turnoff and
things start to turn to manure, due to the undulating nature of the trail. In fact it seems to me that there are more
uphills than there are downhills. Not
too bad because I’m able to power walk up the hills and run down, once again
passing a few people. At this stage I
forge ahead of Michael and I’m pretty much on my own.
At this stage of
the piece there should be dramatic drum roll or a flash of lightning or a minor
earth tremor because I’m at about the 24km mark and I start to cough
continually and spit up quite noticeable globs of blood.
(WARNING! I should warn viewers that from here the
descriptions are graphic).
A couple of Ks
further on and I see in the distance, a runner dressed in white and absolutely
flying; Its Brendan Davies and he’s headed towards Kedumba at a great rate of
knots on the way to beating Kilian Jornet’s 2012 TNF 100 record. Goooooo Brendan! I can now boast that I passed Brendan Davies! Later I would pass lots of other elite
runners, including the Ladies winner and new record holder, Beth Cardelli. The highlights of my TNF.
Returning to
reality I realise that I’ve just about done with the Kedumba section and should
just about be heading into Leura Forest with about 9kms to Checkpoint 502. Only one more hill; may as well have been
Nellies Glen because I got half way up and found that I could hardly breathe
and was spitting rather large amounts of very bright red blood. My breathing
was laboured, really difficult to breathe in, almost like a bilge pump, while
breathing out was just a short wheeze. I
knew this was not good. At that stage
Jaci rang me, and I was able to get reception, so all I could say was, ‘Can’t
breathe!’. This was it for me, and I
knew it was time to stop being so bloody stupid and consider pulling the
pin. Just before the trail headed into
the forest there was a first aid vehicle parked, so I thought I would stop and
see if the driver had any oxygen (I found out much later that they don’t carry
any), but the driver was nowhere to be seen; I found out that he was in the
bush taking care of some other poor bugger.
I thought that I would head into the forest and make my way slowly to
CP502, since it was only about seven or eight K away. ‘Hang on you idiot!’ I heard myself yell at
the sky, ‘What are you doing? Are you trying
to kill yourself?’ Lots of things go
through your mind at times like this, and most of my thoughts concerned the
fact that there were still heaps of things I still wanted to do and nearly all
those things involved the woman I had married only six weeks before. If I died, Jaci would kill me! So I waited by the truck. Michael caught up, then Olly and Charly; they
would all go through and complete TNF 50 in respectable times. Good onya gang! Then Ben the First Aider emerged from the
bush; I told him my plight, he said that I had made the right decision but we
wouldn’t be able to drive out for about three hours. No problem to me; let Jaci know what was
happening then wrap up with blankets in the back seat and nod off. About three hours later after a slow drive up
Kedumba, I hobbled over to the food tent at CP 501, hugged my Wife and
proceeded to devour anything that looked like food, apple pie, noodles, coffee,
scrolls, banana, fruit bun (in the Army we used to call these armour-piercing
rock buns), and another apple pie.
Now came the
recriminations, the thoughts that maybe I could have continued, maybe I
shouldn’t have pulled the pin, maybe I was a woos, no guts! Then the responses that if I had not pulled
out I could have died (I was still coughing bright red blood a few hours later,
and blood streaked sputum a couple of weeks later), too much to live for and
too many things to fulfil with the woman I love. I don’t feel bad about it now because I KNOW
it was the right thing to do.
So now it’s all
over for another year. There is always
next year and there is always another event.
Now, however I’ve come to realise that there will probably not be a Kona
Ironman, maybe not even any Ironman, or even Ironman 70.3, not another TNF 100,
maybe not even another TNF 50. But there
will probably be an Olympic Distance Triathlon, a duathlon, an adventure race,
a half marathon, and next May I’ll volunteer to Sweep TNF – no pressure, no
stress! The realisation has come to me
after much brow-beating, soul-searching and gnashing of teeth that I won’t be
able to damage my lungs again, and that I WILL need to not push too hard. So my action plan is:
1. Figure out what I CAN do
2. Figure out what I
CAN’T do,
3. Rest for as long as necessary,
4. Recover for as long as necessary,
5. Toughen Up
Princess, and
6. Get off my bum and
get stuck into what I figured out in # 1.
Well, that’s about
it! It’s now just over two weeks after
North Face and although the muscles
have well and truly recovered, I am
now constantly coughing, most of the time non-productive, but still often with
bloody sputum I will need to speak to my
specialist, Dr Geoff and will probably need to up my meds. All this is just maintenance, this vasculitis
is not going to go away soon so I need to take notice of my advisor, Jaci and
follow my own action plan. The whole
process is a bit like trail running and ultra-marathons, the principle that I
learnt a long time ago, ‘Relentless Forward Progress’!
I would like to acknowledge the
efforts of my many friends and training partners who, without realising it,
taught me courage and humility, determination and toughness. You are a rare breed and I am a better person
for knowing all of you. Finally I want
to acknowledge and thank My Wife, Jaci, who has made my life a joy through her
ability to instil happiness by applying a very simple component………Love!
