One more goal

One more goal.

Today is the 17^th day since the crash that left me hurt and pissed off. The doctors told me 6-8 weeks for my foot to heal, 3 months for my back and then re-evaluate. After hearing the long road ahead I switched gears in my mind. The doctors can say what they want, I know my body and healing quickly is a matter of will, want and hard work. I can do better…much better! So I set some goals.

The first goal- swim.

Since the Wednesday following the crash I have been to the pool every day. Every day! The spine doc said swimming would cause pain but not injure me any further. I trust very few people with my medical care. Dr. Chris Webb is one of two so I would call, text, bother him (sorry) constantly asking what I could and couldn’t do. He confirmed, swimming may hurt but it wont cause further damage. Goal #1-Wading became walking, walking became floating, floating became sculling and sculling has now led to swimming. Im slow as hell and my legs drag because tightening those back muscles isnt happening yet-but I swim. 500yds, 1000yds, 1500yds and yesterday- 2100!!! I cant flip turn so I keep my head in the water and spin around to lightly push off the wall with my good foot. I know I look stupid but it’s a work in progress. HA! SPL is 4-5 high and my time…well, lets not even talk about that right now. Thanks Chris!!! Sorry but I still have to bother you.

2^nd goal- get back to coaching and the ATC.

I don’t need to go on about how awesome this group is or how supportive they have been or how people I barely know offered to help any way they could, or how Matt & Dustin spent a Friday night moving furniture and hanging out with me. I wont go into all that ;) Yes, the ATC is amazing! Its that amazingness that inspires, supports and pumps me up every time Im around them. They welcomed me and Tami since day 1. That is why this was goal #2. I needed to be back. Last Friday I made it and glad to be back I am!!! Thank you ATC!!!!

3^rd goal- get on the trainer.

I set this goal for the start of week 3- Monday, March 24^th. It didn’t happen. I was sore from perhaps possibly over doing it in the pool. Possibly… so today I said it needed to be done. Even if for a minute. Chris Rotelli gave me a water bottle last week with the saying; “ I am the master of my own fate.” You are damn right!! Those words hit home and replay constantly in my head. Trainer time- 45 minutes!

4^th goal- complete Ironman Florida 70.3, five weeks post-crash.

The limiter here would be my foot. How I was going to make it through the half marathon Im not sure, but I had time to figure this minor detail out. Tami quickly put an end to this goal. I think the term “psycho” was used along with some other explitives…lol!!! Sorry babe!

Im happy with the progress but there is still a lot of work to do and perhaps its outside of the physical healing. Today as soon as I started pedaling the anger began to rise. With each pedal stroke, the pain would come but the anger overtook it. Power and cadence are just like my swimming- way off. Mad, pissed, irate, I stopped.  

I set some lofty but attainable goals for this year. The formula was simple. Swim my swim. Bike at 3.7-3.9. Run was the limiter and we were addressing it with frequency like I have never done before. My weight was down, nutrition was spot on and hydration would no longer hold me back. This was the year!

That’s all gone now. What remains is anger and fear. When I go to sleep, sitting at my computer or drinking coffee in the morning, flashes of wrecking my bike come into my mind. I’ve replayed that day a million times thinking about what I could’ve done different. I should’ve pushed the break. I should’ve pushed the pace. I should NOT have dropped back in. It culminated today as I pedaled on the trainer. I had no power, spinning was painful and all that I had worked for is gone.

I realize Im lucky. Very lucky! This could have been much more serious and ended much worse. I could have no support from my wife, closest friends and ATC. I could still be on the couch and not doing anything at all. I realize this. I don’t feel bad for myself and the will to rehab is stronger than ever. Regardless- Im still extremely angry!! Adding to that anger is the realization that I don’t seem to be a big enough man to let it go.  Anger isnt a bad emotion- I get that. Its natural and if handled well can be useful. I need to figure that part out. One more goal to put on the list…

I am Lucky!!!!

Brooks Road Race- Masters 4/5, 3/8/2014

When I originally signed up for this race the plan was Cat 5. I never applied for an upgrade and figured one last race with the Cat 5’s would be fun and a good start to the race season. Leading up to the race I had great training and many days off due to our move into a new house. My legs were tired and sore but not from riding. (stairs...grrr!!) However, when I arrived race morning- I felt great! Two friends (David and Paul) and many familiar faces were signed up for the Masters category. The way I was feeling I thought, why not jump up to Masters and go after it today. So I changed pre-race.

David and I did a quick warm up together and caught up a bit before hustling back as the time got away from us. The race started and off we went. The first lap was very tense. Everyone in the peloton seemed stiff and nervous. First race of the year jitters were very apparent. I made several attempts to joke with everyone, loosen the vibe up but it never took effect. The pace was subdued, just over 21 mph and you could tell egos were out in full force. The last few miles Paul was out in front and I was stuck on his wheel. With the peloton still strung together, we rounded the corner towards the 200 meter mark heading into the finish for the first of 3, 18 mile laps. My nutrition/hydration was spot on as I downed a gel and chucked an empty bottle to the side! My legs felt great and it was taking everything I had to hold back.

“Two laps left Ryan. Patience,” I kept reminding myself.

The plan was to launch a few attacks on the 2^nd lap and split the peloton apart. Then-settle in with the front group, recover as much as possible for an all-out break away with a couple miles to go. I was prepared to burry myself in those last miles and just hold on to the finish.

I could hear Paul Ligget yelling; "Fabulous Fabian Cancellara!!" HAHA! You need these thoughts if you are really in it to race. I was pumped!!!!

About 500 meters into the 2^nd , the first attack was launched. I needed to get some anxiousness out and went with two others as we upped the pace. It was short lived but set the tone for what was to come. This wasn’t going to be the easy ride we had on the first lap- not if you wanted to be competitive. Pulling up along side the guy who launched I complimented him and said, “lets do a few more!” Apparently some others were in agreement and several more attacks followed. These were short bursts lasting 2 minutes or less. Surprisingly the group followed not letting anyone get away. The main field would drop back but eventually catch back up as the attacking group would slow. Looking back now, I realize we needed leadership and should have stepped up. I was trying to be as patient as possible but burning a few matches would have helped us break early and likely prevented what was about to come.

Somewhere around mile 6, the guy who launched first went again. I decided it was time to go with him and crank up some speed. I was feeling too good to keep sitting back so I dropped the gear, broke out to the left and pushed hard to go with him. He lasted about 2 minutes and slid off to the center line. Rather than drop behind him like before, I kept pushing the now single file peloton through some rollers. Legs fine. Heart rate fine. Cadence fine. It was a good push. (Time to recover and let someone else do some work.) 

My hope was for another rider to take the lead and keep pushing the pace. We had some strong riders out front and we needed to take advantage of it by working together and keeping the pace up. It didn’t happen. Looking over my shoulder there was a gap between our group and the rest of the peloton. None of us were tired and we should have kept going - but we didn’t. Unfortunately, as we headed up the next roller, here came the masses and once again the group was together. ARGHHHH!!!

I slid back in and over to the far right about 3^rd position just pedaling and grabbed a drink. A little aggravated but happy I was still feeling so well and excited to launch again as soon as I was closer up. The guy next to me (he launched twice) and I looked at each other and smirked. It was a silent agreement that we would go at it again, together…soon. My heart rate started to rise and the excitement started to build. I thought-“If these guys wanted to stick around, they needed to hurt and prove worthy. Lets put some hurt on this bunch and get the hell out of here!”

There was small, gradual incline and although the pace was slightly higher, it wasn’t blistering by any means. If you couldn’t hang on to this pace you really had no business being out here. True to those words a rider on the far, far right (not in a lane) was dropping back. What he was doing up front I have no idea, but the fact he couldn’t get up a small incline was ridiculous. 

When the peloton regrouped a few riders flew past us from the momentum they had getting into our slipstream. I assume this is where this asshole came from. The hands went out advising people to slide over as we were starting to drop him. (This guy pissed me off! Its assholes like these that think they are way better than they are and cause unsafe conditions.) At that moment I heard some yelling, the riders in front of me started to go down, there was a bike in front of me and hit it.

In that split second my mind went back to my shoulder injury and multiple surgeries with months of pain. I immediately tucked my head and brought my arms in as I was flipping through the air.

*Still not sure how I was so conscious about what was going on but I remember those split seconds vividly and knew what was happening the entire time.*

I did a complete flip landing my back on what felt like a set of handle bars. The pain was instant as I bounced across the pavement into the grass. Lying on my stomach with my face down, I tried to move and reach for help. Riders were all around me, bikes were on the ground and I could here David saying my name. I couldn’t speak. The pain in my back was too much and all I could do was breath into the dirt and grass.

When I crashed a few years ago, my instant thoughts were about how this was going to impact my racing, recovery time and the surgeries I knew were to follow. This time- it was completely different.

The first and lasting thought was about Tami, the Beaner, my responsibilities as a husband and how I needed to make myself better because they depend on me. I didn’t give a shit about my bike, the race, my future races…nothing else. It was focused solely on them.

I heard David say my name again and heard Paul as well. There was a doctor behind me talking to me asking questions and touching my leg. I was still lying face down, the back of my left hand on my lower back and I was scared. The pain was excruciating but I was determined to push through, again- thinking of my family. He helped me roll over and eventually get up. (In hindsight-this was bad and should not have been done but there was no way in hell I was going to another po-dunk hospital in the middle of nowhere. Floyd medical center can eat shit!) When I looked around I saw the carnage of bikes and riders.

David was bloody from head to toe. His arms and legs were really rashed up and his kit was shredded in different spots. He was talking to me and asking if I was ok. He offered to drive my car back to Atlanta and do whatever he could to help. He was obviously in a ton of pain but still concerned about me. I don’t recall what I said (if anything) but it was comforting to have him there. Tough as nails- he got onto his bike and road the last 9 miles back to the start/finish.

Paul was in the crash too. His bike was in shambles. Zipps busted apart, handlebars broken and come to find out so was his frame. His kit was torn too and he was holding his shoulder. It was broken. Paul checked on me as well and road in the back of the car with me to the start/finish.

Upon arriving back, I pulled myself out of the car, grabbed my bike and slowly limped over to my car. I saw Darrel warming up and opened my mouth but nothing seemed to come out. Again, my only thoughts were that I needed to be ok. I needed to heal myself. I needed to get home and take care of things.

It took forever to get my bike in the XTerra and even longer for me to get in the driver’s seat. My right foot was broken and my left leg wasn’t working well. The pain seemed to get worse rather than better and I knew I needed to get home. I sat there for a few minutes collecting myself and called Tami. She answered; “that was quick!” I responded; “yep! Especially when you wreck. <laughingly>”

I didn’t want to lead on as to how bad I felt as there was nothing she could do and worrying her wouldn’t help things. I brushed the injuries off and said I was sore with a busted foot. I even took a pic and posted because my back to me just seemed like it was muscular issue. “HTFU!!!” I kept telling myself on the drive home. “You pulled a muscle and broke your foot. Suck it up!” I must’ve repeated that 20 times.

The pain in my back began to increase and I started to panic a little. “Ok, ok, endorphins are wearing off, its going to hurt, relax, breath…” But I couldn’t breathe well. Now taking a deep breath was impossible as it hurt when I inhaled. “Broken rib maybe. Nice job dick head! Suck it up! Lets get home.” (Im not sure why Im letting everyone know I was talking to myself…but I was, and it helped.) The pain kept getting worse and driving was getting harder. Breathing was getting tougher and panic was setting in. I called Tami back and asked her to meet me at the house so we could go to the hospital. I was hurt.

The rest you already know. Multiple fractures in multiple vertebrae and 4 of them have the left transverse processes completely broken off. Right foot is broken and the road rash barely ever hurt because it was overshadowed by my back.

I do want to highlight Piedmont hospital and the care I received there. OUTSTANDING!!!! The NP, Zach and nurse Greg, oversaw my care. They were unreal!! The process was quick and we never waited any longer than 20 minutes at a time for a result or another test or anything. Even the security guard there helped me out of the car and wheeled me into the ER while Tami parked. I highlighted all of them and my experience with Piedmont in a letter thanking them. They deserve to be recognized!!!

Im fortunate to be able to say, I’m done racing bicycles. I have never loved or enjoyed a sport more than cycling. Never! Not football, hockey- nothing! Bike rides have taken me to places and let me see things I would have never seen or experienced any other way. Watching the sun come up in the north Georgia mountains while climbing through the gaps is breathtaking. The exhilaration of sitting on a guy’s wheel climbing at what you think is your max- seeing the finish ahead, shifting down, standing up and launching to give every last drop of what is inside… you are alive!!!!! The camaraderie and culture of cycling has given me friends from all over the world. I could write about it forever. But Im done.

I received a call from a friend of mine who heard what happened. He’s from Prague, a long time competitive cyclist and all too familiar with what can happen on the road. He said I was lucky. He told me his friend did the same thing but still wins TT’s and swimming events-  only now he races in the wheel chair division. The same type of crash left him paralyzed from the waist down. Those thoughts I had about my family, responsibilities and commitment to them, far exceeds anything mentioned above and putting myself at risk to alter this life, their well being, just isn’t worth it.

I am lucky. Extremely lucky!!! Not only with regards to my injuries but in life. We have been inundated with calls, emails, texts and FB messages wishing me well and a quick healing. We’ve had offers for food, rides to the doctor, walks for Kona and just to come sit with me. Chris Webb calls me every day from Pittsburgh and has offered to fly down to help oversee my care. Matt texts me and Tami multiple times a day always offering to do anything.  Lucky??? Unbelievably lucky, fortunate, blessed, humbled and thankful.

This by no way means I am done competing. No way!! That side of me will never die. But the focus will be on something else- swimming perhaps. Who knows, maybe breaking my right foot will now balance the imbalance I had due to the previous broken left foot and allow me to run injury free. HAHA! Regardless, I will be back and able to compete again- that part of me is not gone. 

Every day gets better and that has so much to do with all of the support!! Tami- you never waiver, always there, solid, amazing, wonderful, Thank You!!! Webb- always above and beyond! Roco’s Taco’s bro!!! Thank you!!! Matt- a constant blessing- Thank You!! David- you did more than you realize- Thank you!! ATC- You FUCKING ROCK!!!!! Adam & Sarah, Krystle, KLo, all of you!!! AMAZING!!!! Everyone else who has called, text etc- THANK YOU!!!!

I am truly lucky!!!