Good Days & Bad Days

Man, this crap can be rough. A lot of the time I am just going with the flow, caught up in every day life and then sometimes I start to think about this nonsense and it tends to consume me. How it can effect you is almost like good days and bad days on the bike- some days you have it and some days you just don't. With that being said, yesterday sucked. After doing a stress test Monday (and keeping my HR in the 180's for minutes!) and then wearing a Holter monitor for 24 hours, I had an MRI scheduled for yesterday. I was very anxious to get this test done because it is the last test that I will need for the docs to confirm the full extent of my condition, apical hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. I am also eager to find out exactly what I can and cannot do because yesterday marked my 8th day in a row of no exercise. I also found out that my mountain bike is in and I know that when I pick it up, bring it home only to NOT be able to ride it, it's gonna suck.

I was pretty nervous about the MRI because I am slightly belonephobic (scared of needles) and mildly claustrophobic. I knew I would be getting an IV for them to inject the dye for the MRI and even though I had stopped fainting years ago from needles (mainly blood draws), I was still nervous as heck. Well, I didn't faint when the nurse stuck the 18 gage whopper in my vein but I came close- they had to lay my sorry behind down. Ugh, not a good start. Then as I sat in the waiting room they pulled a lady from the MR and rush her to the OR- her face was purple! Anxiety was now up a few notches. When I got in the MR room the tech asked me about being claustrophobic and I told him that I had done an MRI before and even though they had to pull me out of it initially, I got through it. I also told him why I was claustrophobic but I thought that the Navy had cured it. Then he said the MRI would last an hour (a WHOLE hour unable to move!), they would inject a dye (and I would feel it) and I'd have to hold my breath for every scan, one time lasting a full minute. I felt flushed, especially after they strapped me down to the table and I could not move. Once they got me in the scanner, I immediately asked to be pulled out- got my bearings and said I was ready after quite a bit of encouragement. I got back in, had music on, got a few scans for positioning and then a friggin panic attack hit me and I had to get out! What the hell? How can I not over come this? The tech said I had the option to reschedule, be sedated and use a larger bore scanner. I thought about it and eventually agreed even though I could not comprehend why I could not make myself do this. Hell, I even felt faint as the nurse pulled the IV out!

It seemed like everything I felt was amplified by 10 yesterday. I think as I was waiting for the MRI and I saw all of the old people and all of the sick people, it all finallly caught up to me yesterday- I have a heart disease. Anyhow, I was beat- I felt like a kid again in need of a good cry. But man, I can't let this crap get the best of me. I will concede yesterday though, because I could not overcome those fears even though I have in the past. I felt like crap the rest of the day but I know I need to put an end to the slight decline of my spirit... Hell, I can't be a pud daddy to Avery- she thinks I spell my middle name T-U-F-F...

The first test

Going to the first race (Gainesville- one of my favorite courses) since getting my diagnosis wasn't so bad. To be honest, I was anxious to go for the weekend but wasn't really sure how I was going to feel or how I was going to deal with it. Yeah at times I wished I was riding or wandered how I'd be doing during the race and yeah I let it get to me a time or two, but for the most part my mind was pretty occupied. Char did an awesome job keeping me upbeat and fending off my dumb comments. I enjoyed myself (as usual) hanging out at at Al's (Char's brother) house with his family on Saturday. Char, Avery and myself always have such a great time there and always appreciate the killer hospitality.

As for Sunday- I was super excited during Avery's race, in which she rocked a 4th place. And during the actual cross country race- I actually thought it was cool seeing it as a spectator and still felt like part of the team helping Steph feed bottles and dump cold water on Char and the fellas while they suffered in the unforgiving heat. I gained a true appreciation for the awesome folks in the pits. But overall, it was a cool weekend. Mayfield was great, lunch with the gang at Tijuana Flats after the race was a good time and the trip to the pool with Char and Avery when we got home capped off the weekend.

I also appreciated all the well-wishes I received from all of the cool cats in the Florida XC race scene- it meant a lot. Chit-chatting with everyone at the venue is a constant reminder of how awesome the FL MTB community is. It makes going to races as a retired expert mid-packer a pleasant experience- along with the unconditional love I get from my 2 special racing ladies.... Oh, which reminds me- race results are here.

I'll let pictures finish the post...

Happy folks...

All smiles at the wedding...

Relief

So a heart disease can also be something that ends anxiety. Sounds kinda odd but I did feel a bit of relief as I listened to the doctor on Wednesday. I was relieved knowing that I do indeed have a heart problem and what exactly that problem is. I was relieved that now I understand exactly why I have a murmur, why the mitral valve isn't totally closing and causing this murmur, why my EKG is abnormal, why I have arryhythmias/palpitations and so on. But I was also relieved that I didn't have to stress over riding, that I didn't have to stress over training 6 days a week just to be competitive in the expert class, stress over planning my rides, ride locations, clothing, drinks, tubes, CO2's, weather conditions, bike parts, etc, etc... No more feeling guilty when I miss a ride, or not feeling like getting on the trainer when it's storming, or stressing over why I felt bad on a ride or why I didn't win the sprint on Tuesday night. I felt free of blowing off so many things in my life so I could get on my bike and get away, jam the MP3's, cranks the pedals and feel the wind blow though my helmet as cars whizz by. I felt relieved that my mind would not be consumed with everything that goes with my cycling lifestyle and the lifestyle of a guy who has the never-ending desire to compete and to race and to keep coming back for more. I was free of the guilt that always consumes me when spend less time with Avery because I "have to" ride. I felt devastation as I listened to Mayo's diagnosis but that same devastation was accompanied by a little relief. Relief can be seen as something positive, right?

Thursday morning I woke up and the first thought that came into my head was that I didn't have to ride that day, that the revelation that occurred at Mayo the day before was not a dream. My next thought was, "Damn, I still gotta go to work and keep going nonetheless." Later I walked into my garage to grab my shoes, looked over at my bikes hanging on the wall and all of my race numbers making a border around the top of the walls and I felt the sting hit me that I already missed riding- that my passion died before I was ready to let it go. I am still optimistic that this is not permanent. I can't help but to hold on to the slightest hope that I will be back on the bike some day and sitting on the line at a race, thinking about nothing else in the world besides pedaling my ass off...