So I woke up this morning, and I could hear, sorta, thank goodness. I spent the last 3 weeks posing as a blonde bobblehead- nod and smile, nod and smile. I don’t think I could have survived without hearing much longer because the only sign language I know is a one fingered invite for a butt-kicking.
   It all started nearly a month ago, at a bar, on my birthday. I had my party pants on, my hair was big, and I felt sick. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a “I just had 6 Coronas” sort of sick. So, I took my safe ride home at 10.45…lame. I called the people I was suppose to run long with the next day to tell them I couldn’t get out of bed, “and it is not because my birthday party was last night and I spent the night at the Rio where the margaritas are so big you could take a bath in them…honest!”
   On Monday I decided I didn’t want to be sick any more, so I went for a swim. After a grueling 50 meters I went back to my bed, where I was super busy. I had to alternate between sweating, freezing, blowing my nose and trying not to die. At 3 in the morning blood started dripping out of my ear, apparently I was better at sweating than trying not to die. I sent out a few text messages to my loved ones to let them know I was about to kick the bucket, but no one responded. Maybe they were sleeping. So I drove my carcass to the hospital.
   Apparently if your temperature gets in to the quadruple digit territory, your eardrum can rupture. Then, I am pretty sure my brains were gushing out…it was sick, like, cool sick, in a Discovery Channel sort of way. The next day my coach called to see if I had done any training, “yeah” I told him, “I did an hour of Dr. Phil and an hour of Oprah.” He told me not to eat any cookies until I was back training…real training, and watching Oprah doesnt count as excercise. Not a problem, the only thing I had eaten in the last three days was prescription pain killers, you know, the good stuff.
   By Friday I had decided that I wasn’t sick any more (for the second time that week) and I got back to business. The kind of business that earns a bobblehead a cookie. I have felt great ever since, and training has been going well…and then…this morning….I could hear! Sorta!

She finally arrived…my new Trek Madone WSD 6.5 (http://www.trekbikes.com/women/wsd_products/bikes/) and she is light and comfortable.  The engine is in need of some repair-work, but the bike is ready to race.

Last year I took most of the year off for health reasons.  That was the easiest way for me to focus purely on recovering.  I see too many people, including myself, rush through recovery and compete at 75% of their best effort instead of just taking some time off so they can come back and compete at 100%, and I was going to change this pattern for me.  

So, once I took care of my health, I decided to tackle some ongoing issues I have been having since my knee surgery in 2005.  Well, and to be fully-honest here, the decision to address my knee was really instigated by Kyle’s remark at our Team Timex Camp earlier this year when he point-blank told me that I ”run like a duck.” 

I rushed through my rehab post-knee surgery because I was so focused on RACING rather than being patient.  Following knee surgery I had some swelling that impinged a nerve and my VMO basically shut-down.  I could NOT get a full extension with my left knee.  After many weeks of therapy and a LOT of atrophy, I just got frustrated and figured that ’eventually’ my leg muscles would start working properly.  I mean…at least I could swim, bike and run, yes? 

Fast forward 2 years and well…we all know what happens when there is a discrepancy in leg strength.  Other muscles soon start taking over and doing the job others should do, injuries begin to occur because one leg is working more than the other, the run gait is causing a problem with knee tracking, and performances always remain sub-par. 

I promised myself a ‘no-excuse’ triathlon season this year, and Kyle’s remark prompted me to seek help.  I recently went to Tektonic Sports and began working with Dr. Sutton and had a Wingate test, a VO2/LT test for both the bike and the run, in addition to receiving sports-performance rehab on my knee.  The test results have not been pretty but at least I know what needs to be corrected!  My Wingate test came back at…I am almost embarrassed to say this…a leg discrepancy of 65% vs. 35%.  I was also videotaped running and cycling and that has really helped me to actually see what I was (or was NOT) doing.  I have had to have some thick skin when analyzing all these results, and I know I have some work to do to get this engine back into form, but I finally feel like I am on the right path. 

The Powertap (http://www.saris.com/) is an invaluable training tool for me as I work on rebuilding this engine.  The Powertap in conjunction with my Timex Bodylink help keep me honest when training on my bike.  I am really a work in progress but I am hoping I will no longer be running like a duck.  Until then, waddle-on!  :)     

Tuesday in Boulder county was perfect weather for riding a bicycle, so that is what I did. I was 10 minutes from the end of my ride when I saw a state patrolman pull a car over, naturally I started to mentally high five myself because someone was getting a speeding ticket, and it wasn’t me…

The next thing I remember, was seeing all of the flashing lights, ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars. They told me what happened as they loaded me on to the stretcher. I was hit from behind by an suv, and thrown into a guard rail, before I rolled into the street. “And my bike?! Is my bike okay?!” I asked like any good cyclist. Then I lost consciousness. Then I woke up again and screamed “ARE MY FEET MOVING?!” As they flapped wildly against the stretcher…someone has seen too many Grey’s Anatomy episodes. Then the lights went out again…until I started asking the EMT to look at my pinky finger, “I think it is broken, please tell me its not broken, I use it, like, everyday, I really need it” I babbled on.

Once we got to the hospital, they took cat scans, x rays, and stitched my shin back together. The good news was my cat scan showed undeniable evidence that I, Laura Tingle, have a brain. I was also shown a possible hip fracture from where the suv hit me. The whole time I was at the hospital a super hot fire fighter was there for an emt course. As I chatted with him I tried to straighten my enormous blonde hair (for more on this, please see my blog entry about enormous blonde hair) as I ran my fingers through it, I pulled out a humongous tumbleweed…odd. Then the nurse went to work scrubbing the road out of my rash. That was my least favorite moment of my life. After that delightful experience, the police officer came in with pieces of my bike, and the pieces of my cell phone that he found all over the road. My phone was in the back pocket of my jersey, as I inspected it, I came to a brilliant realization. My wee little phono gave his life, to protect me. So anyway, this is where things stopped making sense. They fitted me with crutches and a knee brace, and eventually let me leave the hospital. The knee brace caused excrutiating pain in my hip, and I couldn’t use the crutches because my shoulder hurt so bad. So, I situated myself in my favorite recliner until it was time to see the orthopedist two days later. He said,  ”Broken scapula” oh balls, this sucks.

Oh, the wisdom of a 7 year-old. 

After listening to me sing the ‘poor me’ song one time too many, my 7 year-old, Hanna, looked at me with some frustration and said, “Mom…you get what you get and you don’t pitch a fit.”  Amazing how those little ears hear and retain everything…well, everything that is except when I am loudly exclaiming, “It is bedtime, now go to sleep.  No more talking!” 

Even prior to racing in Lubbock this June, I knew something was wrong.  I had been feeling run down for a long time, I could not retain weight and I was losing muscle mass.  Workouts were hit and miss, and regardless of the amount of sleep I got, I was still tired.  When I raced at Lubbock it reminded me of how I felt in my last High School Cross-Country meet when I raced with mono and was subsequently hospitalized.  It was during the run in Lubbock that I made the decision to step back from racing triathlons for the remainder of the season and focus on getting my health back in order.  Of course, implementing this plan was not a simple process for me…my mind was a battlefield of ‘Train More versus Train Less’ and my family was caught in the middle.      

Yes, there is a time to push things, but as I have learned (the hard way) there is also a time to just…REST.  Rest is a difficult thing to do for us self-proclaimed obsessive-compulsive types, especially during the racing season, and when it does not come on our terms.  I would be lying if I said this is ‘easy.’  Rather, quite the contrary, it takes [me] more discipline to hold back rather than to continue to push myself.  We all start out the racing season with goals and expectations, anticipated race schedules, and when these plans get derailed, due to illness, injury, stress, work, etc. it can be a hard pill to swallow. 

I have been reading Brad Kearns book, “Breakthrough Triathlon Training.”  It is a good book that has at least provided me with some mental relief, especially with the chapter, “The Myth of Suffering.”  Now, not all will agree with what he has to say, but I believe there is merit when he talks about the emphasis we, as athletes, place on suffering.

  
I have come to the realization that there is a distinct difference between persevering and suffering.  According to Wikipedia, perseverance is “human endurance”, while suffering is “a negative basic feeling or emotion, that involves…harm or threat of harm.”  I do not believe persevering involves the potential for harm or damage.  That is not to say one will not suffer at some point in an Ironman or another race, but I think the key is maintaining balance and knowing when to step back.  Persevering through a race is honorable.  Suffering through a race or workout at the cost of permanent damage to your health or serious injury is questionable decision-making. 

I am not writing this to whine or complain…no, the anger and frustration have since subsided.  When your 7 year-old is telling you to ‘get over it’ one cannot help but to move-on, or as I choose to look at it now…move-forward.  I know everybody has their mountain to climb, and most often we come out stronger on the other side.  Besides, there are many other ‘mountains’ I would not even want to attempt to climb.  Temporary setbacks do not mean ‘forever’ and while I did not get to complete my 200 meter butterfly [yet] or compete at the races I set out to do at the beginning of the season, I have found  immense joy in watching others complete their racing goals and have found new interests and goals outside of triathlon. 

I am constantly reminding my girls that life is not fair, and that we cannot always control what comes our way, but we do control our response and attitude to what life throws at us.  Ironically, it took my 7 year-old to remind me of this.

“You must treat your body with kindness and respect and come to the realization that this is your vehicle to move through life and you should not abuse it.”  
-Tim Sheeper, as quoted in “Breakthrough Triathlon Training” by Brad Kearns.
 

Anniversary dates, for each and every one of us are filled with emotion, regardless of the memory or event celebrated.  Over the course of the last few days, we have witnessed the unfolding sickness and core-shuddering pictures of a student from Virginia Tech that has not only horrified the student body and faculty of that campus, but also sent shock waves through the entire nation and world (the site of this sadistic killer makes me shudder). 

The details of this incident bring back personal memories of shock, horror, and shear terror residual from the Fort Gibson, Oklahoma school shooting which occurred during the time I was a teacher and coach at my Alma matter.  Further, the awful Sunday afternoon that my uncle “flaked off”, exhibited threatening behavior toward himself, immediate family (wife and two children), extended family (my aunt, my parents, and me), and local authorities, resulting in witnessing/hearing gunfire that ring through my memories to this very moment, though this happened over 12 years ago.

Today, April 19, 2007, marks the “anniversary” date of a very life changing moment for my home state of Oklahoma and this nation (9:02 AM marks the 12^th Anniversary of the Alfred P. Murrah Building bombing in Oklahoma City – my thoughts are extended to all the victims, their families, and all the firefighters, medical personnel, police, and other countless individuals who were involved with this terrible attack), as well as another more personal “anniversary” date for someone extremely special to me. 
Last year, around 6:45 PM my boyfriend was struck by a van while we were doing a training ride for the Coeur d’Alene IM.  Again, my mind cannot help but to “relive” the entire day leading up to the moment, and the events that followed – through the rest of the evening, the night, and days that followed.  Initially, he was sent home following a diagnosis of a few broken bones in his shoulder However, (following going to work… Yes!…I said WORK! – at 8 AM – remember, the man was hit by a VAN less than 12 hours prior and didn’t make it home from the Emergency Room until after 1 AM),  we went to his personal physician and, following more X-Rays, discovered he had broken his scapula in three places (“shoulder blade” which is one of the most difficult bones in your body to break – the force to break it is equivalent to someone taking a baseball bat directly to it), his clavicle (collar bone), at least 6 ribs (couldn’t really determine exactly how many from the X-ray), and a bone in his right foot.  

Four days following the accident…following two additional trips back and forth to the Emergency Room…a CT Scan was done of his abdomen and the “trauma team” finally diagnosed that sometime within the past few days following the accident his spleen had ruptured and he had lost over half the blood volume in his body!  (Okay…so, now we knew why he was feeling so crappy!  The man nearly died!)  Finally, an emergency surgery was performed to remove his spleen and stop his internal bleeding. 

Fortunately the man is an anomaly…a “freak of nature”…an IRONMAN triathlete…and survived without any residual, major mal-functions!  Every physician, nurse and anybody who knew anything regarding a traumatic experience of this nature could not believe that not only was he alive and had survived, but he was released from the hospital 4 days after having such an invasive surgery – and that he was hacked off that he wasn’t released sooner!!!!! 

He has fully recovered.  Yes, the moments, minutes, hours, days and first few months following the accident were tough.  However, to this day, he will tell you that it was/is his experience of Ironman training and racing that he drew upon to assist in his resilience and ability to recover (he  is also quick to respond anytime and (without fail) EVERY time I ask, “are you alright?” with “NOOOOOOOO, ‘Hon’!!!  I was hit by a van!” 

To date, he is training for this year’s Coeur d’Alene IM and I am confident his reliance will see him through the finish line to once again hear Riley call him “an Ironman”!!!

Peace and IM resilience be with you today and always,

lisa