Riding Taupo had its costs...
I figured this was a good place to post this story. We received it last week in an email from my brother-in-law... I've checked with him I could share it. It was posted by a " Wellington Tar Baby" on their website (the cycling club in Wellington) so I figure it is now public information and I can share it...
Be warned... for me it means no cold pills/painkillers before a ride just so I know whether I have just a headache or something in the chest (that 'no riding if its below the neck' rule)
For the family it meant one of my sons was not allowed to ride a race he had been looking forward to because he was not quite over a chest cold.
Hi Guys,
This is a story, not about Taupo itself, but about what happened to me as a result of pushing both my training and the race beyond my limits.
I hope it's readable - I apologise for it being a little lenghty.
I've tried to remove anything that this newsgroup uses as a terminator (like several full stops in a row). If I've been unsuccessful you'll only receive half the story. In which case I'll fix and resend.
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Nothing - not even the flu was going to stop me riding in Taupo. Even if it killed me!
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Prologue: (So you can understand where I’ve come from).
In September 2003 I weighed in at a tidy, but not so compact 120kg.
I commuted daily by bus between Johnsonville and Wellington. Fantastic exercise. Watching the world go by.
My friends would often ask “When are you getting back on that bike?” and “Are you doing Taupo?” My response “Maybe next year”. There’s simply nothing as sexy as a “Fat Boy” in lycra! What an incentive to motivate me.
At work my Boss finally takes the initiative. “Come on. Bring that bike in. We’ll start dragging you out at lunchtimes”.
12 Months, and a few dietary changes later my lunchtime rides had eaten their way through almost 30kg. I’d even ditched the bus in favor of the faster 20 minute bike ride to work. Now when asked about Taupo my response was. “I’m considering it. 160km just seems a little daunting”.
The 2004 Lake Taupo Cycle Challenge arrived – and I was there. Completing the course in under six hours. I was hooked! This stuff was actually fun!
12 Months later, a few days prior to the 2005 Lake Taupo Cycle Challenge I suddenly find myself coming down with a cold. Thanks kids. I’m gutted! I’ve spent 12 months training, and during the last few months have been pushing the boundaries as I ignore friends, family and work. All the time pushing pushing pushing… trying to convert every last ounce of energy into forward motion on my bike.
There’s nothing for it. I know I’m getting really sick. So I take Wednesday and Thursday afternoon off sick. Dosing up on Coldral I drag myself home to bed. All I have to do is stave it off until Saturday night. The race will then be over, and even if I come down with pneumonia it’ll have been worth it.
Saturday morning – I feel like crap. I’ve had very little sleep, and my breathing isn’t looking too flash. I know my performance is going to be way down on what I’m capable of. I consider removing myself from Group 1 and maybe opting for a slower group. No. Stupidity or stubbornness take control and I stay close to the front determined to stick it out for as long as I can. I’m aware that there’s a chance that in my current state I may not even be capable of completing the course.
I finished! Happy! And in a time that was considerably better than last year. I even managed to beat my goal time by 5 minutes. A real surprise considering the state I was in.
Others congratulate me on my time, throwing in little tips of wisdom as to how I could improve in the future. What I’ll be aiming for next year is to not get sick!!
I could tell that my health was now considerably worse. What had been a head cold this morning had now worked it’s way down into my chest. The next few days were not going to be pleasant.
But it was worth it!
Nothing! – Absolutely Nothing was going to stop me riding in Taupo this year. Even if it killed me!
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I’d often joked about this. Little did I know how close to the truth that statement may actually come.
"So. You were sick - and decided to ride anyway. Tell me young Solo. What occurred AFTER Taupo?"
Strange you should ask Obi-Wan.
Sunday - Kid things! Huka Falls. Turangi Trout Hatchery. Then the long drive back to Wellington. No exercise at all. My backside falls asleep as I drive. I’m now living on Coldral Cold & Flu. I know I shouldn't have ridden around Taupo on yesterday.
Monday - Still taking Coldral Cold & Flu. Did a slow 28k recovery ride from home to work via the Makara circuit. My body (and head) feels a lot better after the ride. After work the brisk Southerly is still blowing. I can’t resist a fast race home up the Ngauranga Gorge in the strong tail wind. I Almost did my best time door to door. Bad mistake pushing things - still in recovery!
Tuesday - A Roller Coaster of a day. Pain/Suffering/Good News/Bad News. Tuesday had it all.
I stop taking Coldral and decide to take a few days off cycling until I'm over my cold.
As I arrive at work I start suffering from chest pains, dizziness, pain up into my neck, and problems breathing.
After some debate, my work colleagues call an ambulance and convey that I'm possibly showing the symptoms of a heart attack.
On their arrival the Paramedics report all ok on their portable monitor, but pain is still… (although subsiding) so off we go to Wellington Hospital. As I’m put on oxygen the pain dissipates, 40 minutes after it started.
I’m prepared to spend all day at Wellington ED being monitored and having repeated blood tests. I am told that the process will take 8 hours or more. Take a book to read the Paramedics had earlier advised.
The first ECG is fine. No problems evident.
My Wife arrives and all is looking ok. Although I'm certainly "not with it" at all.
My resting heart rate is around 45 bpm so staff shut down alarms on monitoring equipment that normally alarm if the rate drops below a standard of 50.
Next are chest XRays to look for the possibility of a collapsed lung (same symptoms). Negative result.
The next two ECGs then start to go weird.
At 1pm, we’re advised that things are no longer looking ok. From the ECGs they have determined that I did have a heart attack, and I’m currently having problems with a restricted left ventricular (the artery that sits over the front of the heart).
They say I’ll soon be undergoing a coronary angiogram. This involves feeding a tube into the femoral artery at my groin, then feeding a wire tube through this up into my heart. Dye is pumped through this tube, showing in real time on monitors above the operating table to enable a view of my heart, arteries & any obstructions. This is all so unexpected that I don’t care how or why the procedure actually works.
The use of balloons to widen the artery is discussed, and if required insertion of "Stents" (metal tubes) to return the artery(s) to their correct width. If that doesn’t correct the problem, a heart bypass is on the cards, although luckily unlikely.
I’m given a warning that the procedure itself may cause a minor heart attack… Paper and pen is thrust into my hand. I sign my life away.
I’m given 5,000 units of Heparin to thin my blood in preparation for the angiogram. This (I'm told this is a guy thing) lowers my heart rate until it disappears off the monitor and I black out. I’m out for 20 seconds until put on oxygen. Someone reports “We have a pulse back!”
Completely out of it - I wake up with eight faces looking down at me (my Wife reports that the response to the emergency button is pretty impressive in both manpower and response time). I’m unable to comprehend what is going on. Someone asks me a question, which I hear, but then It’s gone. I’m unable to work out how to talk, let alone what I want to say. I lie there hoping that if I keep my mouth shut long enough that everyone will simply go away. This must be a bad dream. For some reason answering the question, whatever it was, appears to be vitally important. Sorry. Try again later when someone's home…
Finally partial comprehension returns - and I hear "It's ok Colin - you fainted". Like I said. It's a Guy thing (according to one of the nurses).
We go upstairs for the angiogram. I'm awake during the procedure, being instructed to breathe in, out, or hold while the pickup device hovering at weird angles over my chest does it’s thing.
It's not a pleasant sensation watching as my heart pumps away - complete with metal tube snaking around inside it.
Until now I've assumed that my current predicament has been caused by me being a “fat guy” who’s been pretending / trying to get fit. I’ve been sure that it would be inevitable that I’d overdo things, even if my training has enabled me to loose all my excess weight (38kg).
My angiogram comes up clean! – No heart attack. No artery issues. No obstructions. And no sign of any artery problems to come! Something of a relief considering my size two years ago! It does however show that the sack containing my heart is swollen and enflamed - restricting the ability of my heart to pump blood efficiently.
This is called Pericardtis. In my case caused by a viral infection attacking the heart. Probably a direct result of training, and riding Taupo while I have a bad cold. It will resolve itself with rest, anti-inflammatories, pain killers, and time.
Removing the 15cm tube used during the angiogram from my groin has to wait until my blood thickens again - nominally a period of four hours, during which time I must lie still, unable to raise my head, and keeping my right leg (with the tube in the femoral artery) straight. So I sleep! (I’m still recovering from lack of sleep at Taupo).
Removal of the tube is preceded by attaching a device that looks like a floor tile sucker (in reverse. ie it applies pressure rather than sucking) over the wound in my groin. The device is pumped up to press hard against the tissue. The tube is pulled out, and a slow 30 minute process follows. Every few minutes my blood pressure, and the pulse in my foot are checked. If they are ok a little pressure more is released off my wound.
This process ensures that the puncture in the femoral artery in my groin is fully sealed. Otherwise it may leak into the groin area. If not caught quickly this would be fatal.
At 7pm I’m finally allowed out of bed for a walk around. I can finally discover my surroundings. Where’s the toilet please!?!
I have an uncomfortable night. I can’t believe how loud the guy in the next cubicle can snore I might as well be sleeping next to a jack hammer! At 6:30 am as the morning nurse takes my blood pressure he admits that at handover the night nurse opened our cubical door to enable the incoming staff to truly appreciate the full effects of the nasal blast!
This morning there’s more blood tests, and one last ECG.
A nurse starts to remove the conductive tags placed over my body. The tags on my legs come off quickly and easily. Strange how we cyclists shave our legs in case of the inevitable crash! Once she reaches my chest (and chest hair) she admits that she’s “not into pain and suffering” and opts to leave me alone to suffer the removal of the rest of the tags myself. Ouch!!
After a shower I’m discharged, and given strict instructions that I’m not to do any exercise for a period of at least two weeks. No walking or riding. I’m gutted. This counts me out from doing the next two Onslow Tarbaby Recovery rides.
Maybe I’ll make it back in time for the last scheduled ride. 55Km to Pauatahanui for a coffee and catch-up.
I’ve been very lucky to have been given a brief, although somewhat invasive glimpse of where just two years ago my life was inevitably headed.
Thanks to the physical challenge that Taupo has provided, and the ongoing friendly training assistance from the Onslow Tarbabies cycling group, I’ve managed to turn things around to hopefully avoid what in the future could have been a real heart attack.
Was there anything else for me to learn from the last few days? – Maybe. Just maybe it might not have been such a bright idea to ride the Solo Challenge around Taupo while obviously ill. But as they say. “It’s just one of those things that simply had to be done”.
Oh yeah. There is of course my Wife’s “Maybe you should listen to me next time!!”
somewhat related then ...
So, how often do you all get sick? I've been cycling for a couple of years now, and I find that I get sick way more often than I did before I started all this outdoor exercise ... probably in the range of every 6 or 8 weeks.
Example ... I was feeling great for a month ... then Sunday we do 20 miles into a headwind and 20 miles back, about 60 degrees. Today my sinuses are blocked and I have a head cold. And a cold sore, to add insult to injury!
What do you guys do to stay healthy? I eat well, I take vitamins, it's not super cold here in SoCal ... I need to do something though. Suggestions?
