Six (Very Long) Months Later…

Six months ago today, I was in an accident that turned my life upside down.  While it’s been the longest and most difficult six months of my life, I actually don’t remember much of it.  What I do remember is due to my obsessive photo taking and blogging about what’s been going on in my life. 

Simply, I’ve spent the last six months learning how to live with a traumatic brain injury.  This includes relearning how to cope with life’s stresses while desperately trying to hold the good times in my memory.  I’ve made some new friends and had my heart broken by those that I had misread their intentions and/or had mistaken for friends.  I’m still fighting some of the physical symptoms of the TBI and I’m certainly still fighting the emotional issues.  There is very little about the time that has been easy and I still have a long, rough road ahead of me.  It could be years before I return to normal, or at least get used to a new normal. 

Today, that long, rough road was quite literally ahead of me.  I had decided a while ago that on my six-month recovery date, I wanted to do something special.  An “epic” ride or perhaps trying something new and seemingly crazy?  I opted for the ride.

So, bright and early this morning, I headed out with my friend Chris who has been there for me through thick and thin.  We tackled a new route of a little over 30 miles and about 800 ft of climbing.  Now remember that long, rough road I mentioned in the previous paragraph?  Our ride also included a 2-mile stretch of a winding, undulating, gravel road.

Gravel section of 28 Mile Road

 Nothing says "rough road" like a gravel road, but gravel doesn't scare me!

This was definitely one of the most challenging unsupported rides I’ve accomplished.  In fact, the only one that can even compare would be the Turlock Lake Road Race route, but number wise, that one was easier, I just wasn’t in as good of shape back in February.

Not a bad way to celebrate six months of recovery.

Brain Overload

“You mention in your book that you’re sure repeated head injuries where one of the factors that lead to your Parkinson’s disease.  As a cyclist with a recent traumatic brain injury and the daughter of a man with young onset Parkinson’s, I’m curious, do you know of any research that supports this and shows a connection between the two?”

What followed was a long awkward silence as Davis Phinney tried to find the words to answer my loaded question.  When he finally spoke, he said one simple word, “No.”

For five months, I’ve been searching for an answer.  Countless hours have been spent online combing through neurology and sports injury publications to no avail.  That is, until yesterday evening.

Through a post made by Saul Raisin, I discovered brainline.org.  The site is dedicated to those living with traumatic brain injury, their family, and friends.  When I had some free time, I explored the site and found some very interesting information.  Two things in particular stood out to me. 

The first of which was a link to an outside article titled Traumatic brain injury ‘may lead to Parkinson’s’.  Wow, I finally have my answer and it’s certainly not the answer I wanted.  Only time will tell, but knowing this didn’t stop me from reaching a point of overload while reading the article and browsing other parts of brainline.org.  Having spent the last 20 years watching my father’s health deteriorate due to his PD, I’ve become more frightened of being diagnosed with PD than I am of being diagnosed with cancer.  They can cure (many) cancers, there is no cure for PD.

The second piece that stood out was an article called Lost & Found: What Brain Injury Survivors Want You to Know.  It pretty much sums up how I feel and what I’ve wanted to tell people, but I haven't been able to put my feelings into coherent words. 

There are so many times that I feel like I’m giving up because I find that I just can’t work anymore.  By the end of the workweek (or in some cases, the workday), I feel so mentally fatigued and overwhelmed with things I have to finish, that my ability to follow through with tasks evaporates and I shut down completely.  Since the new school year began, I’ve gone from hardly sleeping at all to oversleeping in the morning (I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night though).  As a result of being tired all of the time, my concentration levels are ultra-low, which only serves to make matters worse.

The challenge now is going to be getting my coworkers to understand that if I leave early, I’m not avoiding my work.  If I don’t volunteer for extra duties, it’s not because I’m lazy.  If something isn’t done in time, it’s not because I’m apathetic.  It’s likely because I’m feeling overwhelmed.  Each day is a struggle just to get through my immediate responsibilities with my students.  I simply can’t take on any more responsibilities or pick up their slack as I did prior to my accident.  I’m putting in the 100% effort that I’m capable of at this time.

I just wish I wasn't so uncomfortable that my 100% isn’t the same as it once was.

Recovery at a Glacial Pace

In a way, that last blog post was a bit cathartic.  I got some things off my chest and hope that some can learn from it whether they’re recovering from a traumatic brain injury or know someone that is.  The most important thing you can do as a friend or loved one is to understand that when someone has any type of brain injury, they may not act like themselves.  Instead of getting angry and cutting ties, talk to them and offer support while they’re working towards recovery.  They may not always listen, but it won’t be that way forever.  The last thing they need is to feel alone and abandoned by friends and loved ones.  Both parties will be stronger from the experience.

That being said, I’m slowly recovering from my recent episode of severe depression.  I’m not out of the woods, but I’m no longer wallowing in self-pity on a daily basis.  There are moments of emotional pain throughout the day, but my spirits are more easily lifted and I pull out quickly until the next thing goes wrong.

For the most part, what has been pulling me out this time around is throwing myself back into work.  The moment the first student walked into my classroom a week and a half ago, I lit up.  I felt like a different person – someone who is valued and needed instead of an annoyance to be cast aside.

My job is one of the most important things in my life.  It’s who I am, my identity – I’m a teacher.  The feeling of being appreciated by students and parents is one of the most heartwarming feelings I’ve ever experienced.  My group this year seems to be exceptionally warm and I’m getting word from other teachers that my students absolutely adore me.  The feeling is certainly mutual.  The only thing I can imagine that would rival this would be being deeply in love and being loved in return.  (But then, I have no experience in that department, so I can’t say that for certain.)

I’m still getting in some riding (in fact, I rode yesterday) and I’m probably feeling stronger on the bike than I ever have.  I think those 30 lbs I’ve lost since the accident account for some of that.  I’m supposed to be training for Levi’s GranFondo, the medio route this year, but the set backs I’ve experienced during my recovery are making that seem unlikely.  I suppose I’ll make the call when I get to Occidental after that first climb.

In related news, I’m considering taking yoga or pilates.  The hope is that it’ll help me improve core strength.  Because I’m still experiencing vertigo, I decided that taking a class might also be a good way to retrain my brain in order to regain my balance.  I suspect that a class will also be good to combat my depression and manage stress.  Problem is, I’ve never taken yoga or pilates and have no idea what to expect.  If anybody has an input for me on the subject, it would be much appreciated!

Still Fighting After Five Months

There is nothing about this post that is easy to say or admit, but I feel that it needs to be said because I’ve come across some people recently that just don’t seem to get it and I fear that I'm damaging relationships that are important to me.  Please be aware that I'm not looking for pity, I'm looking for understanding and patience.

At the time of my accident, I knew very little about traumatic brain injuries.  Never in a million years did I ever think that recovering from one would be such a great challenge both physically and psychologically.  Every injury is different depending on the part of the brain that was injured, and therefore, every person’s recovery is different.  One thing that seems to be in common is that it takes time to heal.

In my particular case, the psychological effects of the injury have taken a rather large toll on my life.  My personality has changed and my behavior has changed.  Social interactions are particularly difficult because I sometimes say or do something inappropriate or in some way odd.  I’m fully aware that I do certain things, but it seems to be after the fact that I realize Oh, I guess I shouldn’t have said that because it was kind of rude.

I’ve recently began to question the direction that some of my social relationships have taken since my brain injury.  A few friends have pulled away while some have gotten closer to me.  As a single woman with no children and a family that lives far away, my social relationships are very important to me.  There have been times when I sense a relationship slipping away and it’s as if I’m desperately trying to hold on.  I get the hints that I’m not wanted, but I can’t seem to let go because I’m so afraid of being alone.  I feel that I’ve become selfish and overly needy and it’s as if I’m driving a wedge between my long time friends and me.

As some of this has become apparent to me over the last several weeks, or month, whatever, I’ve slipped into depression.  I’ve fought it off and on during my recovery, but the last few weeks have probably been the worst in my life.  This isn’t uncommon for people who have a TBI.  I’ve often wondered if I was suffering from depression occasionally for many years.  However, this is different.  This isn’t depression where I feel sad for a few days because a few things went wrong.  This is completely debilitating depression that lasts day after day.  There have been days when it’s too much effort even to get out of bed and I’ve lost interest in most things I once loved.  I haven’t been able to eat, sleep, or focus on tasks.  I cry every single day and it’s not always just a few tears, it’s sobbing.  The pain is so intense at times that I become willing to go to great lengths to make it go away.

Unfortunately, during these times I sometimes act in a manner that’s even worse.  I’ll say or do things that are, quite frankly, ridiculous.  Friends will say something to me later about what was going on and I don’t always remember what I said or did.  In fact, more often than not, I don’t remember details of what happened.  For example, last week might as well have not existed.  Sure, I went into work, but I wasn’t at work.  I had lunch with a good friend, but I have no idea what we talked about.  Same goes for phone calls, emails, texts, tweets, Facebook status updates… it’s all a blur. 

I’ve had people interact with me that are clearly annoyed by my behavior, and the first thing I wonder is what I did to make them feel that way.  It’s obvious that I’ve done something, but I don’t know what.  I end up feeling hurt and rejected.  I’ve finally reached a place of feeling so lonely, inadequate, and pretty much worthless, that I’m starting to not blame people for wanting to cut ties with me.  If I met me on the street, I wouldn’t want to be my friend either.

While I’m seeing a psychiatrist, it’s not enough.  A dear friend reminds me frequently that this kind of injury takes time and I’m just an infant in the recovery process.  I’m not going to heal overnight and I should stop expecting myself to wake up one day and suddenly be the person I was before the accident.  Having a brain injury isn’t like breaking a bone.  It could take years for me to regain control of my behavior and emotions.  This scares me, but I have to accept it and friends need to understand that there isn’t any magic solution to speed the healing process.  It is what it is and will get better in time even though I sometimes think I’ll never be happy, loved, wanted/needed, or valued again.

I want to point out that some of my friends have been incredibly supportive during my recovery process.  In particular, Chris, Emily, Elizabeth, and Saul have been there for me regardless of how poor my behavior is.  They remind me that they’re available to talk no matter what.  I don’t always take them up on their kind offers, but it means the world to me that the offer is there in the first place.  I will forever be thankful for their friendships and understanding during my long road to recovery.

Finding Adventure

Last week, my tweep Rob posted, “Keep finding adventure in your life!” Seems so simple and for some reason it really spoke to me.

After my accident I’d read that a person may go through some personality changes with this type of injury.  Evidence is showing that I’m not immune to that.  Within a month or so, I’d found myself wanting to try new things.  Not things like new food, but things that aren’t something most people would ever find themselves doing.  For example, I decided that I desperately wanted to take flying lessons. 

Throughout my vacation, I also found myself a little more outgoing than normal.  Yes, I was still relatively quiet in a group situation, but I didn’t seem to have much trouble with starting a conversation with the complete stranger standing next to me.

Even my mom commented that I seem to be a little different the last few months, but she was unable to pinpoint what the exact difference is.

Keeping in line with my new “adventuresome” side, when my friend Deborah mentioned signing up for an event called Beat the Clock, I decided I wanted to do it too.  The signing up for the event isn’t the out of character part; it’s what the event is.  Beat the Clock is a charity event for LiveStrong held once a year at Hellyer Park Velodrome in San Jose.

Yes, you read that correctly.  A velodrome.  Meaning I’d signed up to ride on a track, something that I never had much interest in doing and if I’m being honest, a year ago I probably wouldn’t have done it.  I have no experience riding on a track and while I would be allowed to use my road bike, brakes and all, I was still insanely nervous.

So nervous that while I was being held upright and the countdown started for my first event, I thought I was going to hyperventilate.  I had done a few warm up laps to get the feel of the banking on the velodrome, but placing so much trust in this stranger not to let me fall over was difficult.  I’m pleased to announce that he didn’t drop me.

My first event proved much more strenuous than I’d anticipated.  I’d miscalculated the number of laps and based my speed on how I felt warming up.  I ripped out of the start and amped up my speed to 24 mph.  Suppose I looked strong for the first lap, but after about one and a half laps, I started to burn out even though I was only halfway through. 

The second event went much more smoothly as I paced myself and managed to keep a fairly consistent and comfortable speed of about 18.5 mph.  As I rode by my friends, one of them yelled for me to stop smiling.  Hey… I was having fun and channeling my inner Chris Horner, nothing wrong with that! 

Of course, I came in last each time, but I tried something new.  I took a lot of comfort in the fact that I was on the track at the same time as Deborah.  Really made a difference to know I had friends there with me. While I'm not certain this is an activity in which I'll partake on a regular basis, let's not forget what Davis Phinney says - "Every victory counts!"

Thanks to Deborah, John, Chris, and Emily for all of the support… and for the super cool poster!

Philly, Baby!

After an overnight train from Iminhell through Killmenow, I finally arrived in Philly around lunchtime on Friday.  Having gotten no sleep on the train (not an exaggeration in the least), I played the “stay awake” game that I know well from trips overseas.  Since I wasn’t there just to see the Philadelphia International Championships, I had a list of things that I insisted on seeing and doing so the rest of Friday and all of Saturday was filled with touristy things.

One of the things I noticed Friday evening was that I had chosen a pretty good hotel.  Not good as in nice (it was a dump!), but good in the sense that it was located in awesome proximity to the race route.  Enough so that four teams, Bissell, Jelly Belly, Team Type 1, and Pure Black Racing, were also staying in the same hotel.  In fact, I was hallmates with Bissell and rather horrified when they kept me up all night vacuuming every surface possible.

Saturday night, I finally got to meet Hélène, a tweep visiting from Canada for the race and covering it for a Canadian cycling website.  We go way back to my early days on Twitter and it was exciting finally to get to meet her.  We had a nice dinner at an Italian place (I'm getting hungry just thinking about it!) and met up briefly at the race the following day.

The Philadelphia International Championships is a race unlike any I’ve ever been to before.  Because of the set up, unless you’re a VIP, you’ll never have a good view of the riders signing in (or of the finish for that matter).  I was okay with that and headed over to Logan Square (which is actually a roundabout and not a square at all) to shoot the first laps of the race. 

Juraj Sagan (Liquigas-Cannondale), Tom Zirbel (Jamis-Sutter Home), and Eric Young (Bissell)

It was there that I met Scott, another tweep that I’ve acquired in the last couple of weeks (or months?).  Scott was also photographing the race so we hung out and he showed me some great places to get shots.

One such place was the feedzone where we ended up being given access to an area that was off limits to spectators.  While I’d love to think we looked official, especially since I was wearing Ted King’s socks, I think this was simply an oversight by race security, so I’m not going to complain.  While in the feedzone, we received the unfortunate news that Ted, sporting lucky #13 that day, had crashed out.  Stupid storm grate!  Boo!

My feedzone view for part of the race, sporting Ted King's socks!

United Healthcare, HTC-Highroad, and Liquigas-Cannondale speed through the feedzone

We eventually made our way up to Lemon Hill (no Manuyunk since it was too far to walk) and I was shocked to find a party.  There were vendors, people having picnics, and just a lot of fun.  As the racers approached, everyone would get up, move to the barriers, cheer their hearts out, and then return to their blankets spread out on the grassy hill after the last of the peloton raced by.

Francisco Mancebo (Realcyclist.com) chases Frank Pipp (Bissell) up Lemon Hill while the crowd cheers

As the last of the large laps ended, I headed back down to the finish line hoping to catch some action.  I wasn’t lucky in the photo department, but I did find a location from which I could actually see the sprint finish.  The guys flew by in those last laps at a speed so great that you could feel it. 

I was fairly lucky to get a good spot for the podium presentations, although Peter Sagan was a little uncooperative by holding his Liberty Bell trophy right in front of his crotch. Oh, and in case you're wondering, Peter didn't throw me his flowers this time around, but that doesn't mean I didn't try to get his attention.  Where has all of the love gone, Peter?!

Not the best position for that bell, dear Peter!

Alex Rasmussen (HTC-Columbia) was all smiles after taking the win

I would like to thank the Bissell crew member who gifted me with a couple of water bottles upon my return to the hotel.  Yes, apparently I am that awesome of a hallmate after all.  Or maybe he was trying to thank me for not complaining to hotel staff about all of the noise the team made while demonstrating the prowess of the Bissell Healthy Home Vacuum in the hotel hallway in the middle of the night.

Overall, it was a great race to experience.  And no, I haven't forgotten all about the Liberty Classic... that's a blog post for another day!

Huge thanks to Scott for showing me around the course and advising me on where to find my Mennonite soft pretzels (although Beiler’s Bakery was closed!).  Much like Saul spoiling me for life in the coffee department, the fine folks at Miller’s Twist in Reading Terminal Market have spoiled me in regards to pretzels.  Aside from pretzels, if you ever find yourself in Philly, you may want to check out The Belgian Cafe (a few blocks from the Philadelphia Museum of Art) and enjoy a sandwich Merckx style.  No joke!  Unfortunately, they didn't have waffles and spekuloos on their dinner menu.

Writer's note: I'm totally lying about Bissell being loud.  They were perfectly polite hallmates.

Next Stop... Dalton, GA

After my accident in March, my life changed.  It’s been a difficult journey filled with some highs and the lowest of lows. 

I will forever be thankful to Kathy for putting me in touch with Saul, who surprisingly became a close confidant during my recovery.  After that first phone call from him a week after my accident, I wouldn’t have predicted that he would have such a profound impact on my recovery and my outlook on life.  Honestly, I only vaguely knew who he was at the time of our initial conversation.  Imagine my surprise that after a month and half, I’d be changing my vacation plans to include a trip to Georgia to meet him.

Those who know me know that I could care less about meeting pro cyclists, current or otherwise. So yes, this was something that is completely out of character for me, but I knew that it was now or likely never. 

Once the decision was made to go to Georgia, I also decided that I wasn’t going to be public about it.  I told a few people, including my mom, mostly so that someone would know where I was.  For some reason I felt a little uncomfortable and wasn’t ready to field questions about this guy that I was going to Georgia to meet, since most of my friends wouldn’t understand my strong emotional need to meet him given that they had no idea who he was or what my relationship was to him.

I arrived in Dalton late Monday night after USPro.  The following morning was filled with me nervously prepping myself for meeting this stranger that had changed my life in unimaginable ways. 

My recently acquired lack of inhibition (thank you TBI?) lead me to give him a long hug within the first few seconds after I pulled up at his house.  For me, it was like greeting an old friend.  For him, it was probably more like the awkwardly long hug I’d promised him a month prior.

At some point, he sent a tweet and Facebook update saying that he was with me.  Shortly after, I started receiving messages of surprise from friends that had seen it and had no idea that I was meeting him.  The cat was out of the bag.  There was a picture later in the afternoon as well, followed by more shocked responses from my friends and tweeps questioning what I was doing there.

Out of respect for his privacy, I won’t rehash every detail of our day together.  However, after a relaxed lunch with his parents (wonderful people!), we got hopped up on caffeine (dude brews a mean cup of coffee and I’m spoiled for life!), he attempted to fix a scratch on my rental car (such a gentleman!), and then we drove up to Chattanooga where he showed me around the city, including, of course, a bike shop (yes, we’re both bike nerds!).  

We walked around, chatted, and pretty much just spent time getting to know each other a little better.  He was friendly, outgoing, and I think he could sense a bit of nervousness or shyness in the way I spoke and in my body language.  For the most part, I concentrated on not being the complete spaz that my friends know me to be, although I’m not certain I was successful.  Thank goodness he can carry a conversation! 

I can’t remember exactly what he said to me in our last minutes together, but I told him he was going to make me cry, which he did.  Being highly emotional on my best of days is hard enough… but this was emotionally painful.  It could have been any number of things most likely related to my brain injury or new medication; I’m not sure.  Simple fact is, I had a difficult time holding it together while we said goodbye and didn’t want to let go.  I completely lost it once I got back to my hotel room.

I hope this is a sign that we have a strong enough bond for a long friendship.

Oh, and at some point in the day, I volunteered for his Race Across America team for next year.  I don’t know if he’ll take me up on the offer of soigneur duties, but it should clear up any questions as to my current level of sanity.

Where to Start?

I’m so overwhelmed by the last couple of weeks that I don’t even know where to begin.  Logic tells me to rehash the good stuff in chronological order, but even then, I know there’s enough material for a few blog entries.  Yes, my vacation was that exciting.

I started off in Greenville, SC.  Well, not really, I started at home, but my first real destination was Greenville for USPro.  I’ve never been and since they moved the event to the first weekend of vacation, it only seemed appropriate that I make the cross-country flight out to South Carolina to see the race.

Yes, completely reasonable to fly several thousand miles to watch a bike race.  Nothing strange about that at all.

I was greeted at the airport by D’Andrea and Anita.  I’d never met Anita before, but I’ve met D’Andrea a couple of times.  Despite this, I feel like I’ve known both them forever.  It’s amazing the bonds people can form over social media and a shared love of bike racing and argyle.  Upon arrival at the hotel, I was greeted by even more people, there was alcohol involved, laughter, fun, and then some much needed sleep.

Sunday started with the South Carolina State Road Race.  Actually, that’s not true, it really started with a somewhat awkward conversation with Davis and Taylor Phinney in the hotel restaurant about a butt pillow that was given to BMC’s Chris Butler by a Diva, but I digress.

During my first full day in the South, I was floored by good old fashioned Southern hospitality when the owner of the home in front of which we set up camp at the state road race, graciously offered us the use of his bathroom throughout the day.  Really… how cool is that?  And yes, we did take him up on his offer on numerous occasions.  

The real party started Sunday evening.  It involved chalk, a rather large group of cycling fans, and Paris Mountain.  I was there to cheer on my NorCal guys so some riders who normally wouldn’t find much support so far from home got some customized art up on the hill.  Of course, photos were taken, pics were tweeted, riders were thrilled, and lives were changed forever.  Okay, maybe that last part is a bit of a stretch, but you never know.

For Max Jenkins and Chris Jones of United Healthcare 

Paul Mach and Andy Jacques-Maynes of Bissell, but I couldn't forget Ted King even though he doesn't live in NorCal, he does occasionally train here

Monday, of course was the big day - my first national championship.  After properly meeting Davis Phinney that morning and gushing ever so subtly about how much I was enjoying his book (more on that in a later blog), we headed downtown to set up for the race.

Early on, my friend, Dan, directed me to where the riders would be signing in and I would be able to get some great photos, and if I do say so myself, there was mucho success.  I went out of my way to personally wish my NorCal guys luck, by name, and got quite a few bright smiles of surprise.  Or maybe it was fear when they realized they recognized me from local NorCal races and they worried that they were being stalked.  I may never know…

Taylor Phinney seemed relaxed after a less than pleasing time trial on Saturday

One of my favorite shots - Tejay van Garderen leading a group into a turn

(Long sentence alert!)  Toward the end of the race, after a long day screaming for Ted King who coincidentally made the late break to eventually finish third overall (which we all know is the best), thanks in part, I’m sure, to my screaming, Becky’s hand knit socks, and JTKatz’s jar of Spekuloos, I was handed a press pass and practically thrown onto the course with the legitimate photographers (deep breath!).  Again, it’s that Southern hospitality rearing it’s oh so pretty head.

Because of that borrowed press pass, I was able to get shots like these:

The sprint and photo finish between George Hincapie and Matthew Busche

Ted King was thrilled with finishing on the podium... very excited for him! 

Matthew Busche was interviewed on stage as Ted King and George Hincapie shared a few comments

Going to USPro was an incredible experience and I was constantly reminded about how cool it was that an American was guaranteed to win.  What I saw of Greenville and South Carolina was beautiful even though I nearly became a puddle in the heat, which wasn’t that bad until you factored in the humidity. 

My vacation had gotten off to a most excellent beginning.

The rest of my photos can be seen here: Sign in and call ups; race and podium.

And So it Begins…

Two states down and one race viewed.  This last week marked my third year of viewing the Amgen Tour of California and while stage 1 turned out to be a complete bust, I had a great time making the glacially paced trek up to South Lake Tahoe from my parents’ house outside of Sacramento by way of Donner Summit.

Because the stage was originally postponed, I had plenty of time to relax once I finally arrived at MontBleu around 9:30 AM (I left at 4:30 AM).  The lobby was abuzz with riders and staff taking advantage of the extra time they’d been gifted by the snowstorm dumping inches upon inches of the white stuff on the race route.  I’d just traveled along said route and it was obvious during my drive that if the race were to continue under those conditions, then they were all nuts.

At around noon, I was given word that unofficially the race would begin at 1:15 PM and rider sign in would begin shortly.  I headed out to the start, bundled up in many layers of warm winter clothing that have never seen the month of May, and waited in the storm for the excitement to begin.

Jonathan Vaughters of Garmin-Cervélo with rider Linus Gerdemann of Leopard Trek and Brian Nygaard making a case for rider safety to Andrew Messick.

Of course, we all know how that worked out.  After all of the riders were signed in and a local high school choir sang the national anthem, the race was officially cancelled at 1:15 PM.  At least that gave me a good hour of photographing the guys!

Will Dugan of Team Type 1 was muy frio at the starting line.

Turns out that cancelling was a brilliant idea, as this is what highway 89 looked like when I made my way home.

Hwy 89 when I stopped to put the cables on my tires.

Tuesday was another run of the mill day here in town for when there is a major international bike race hitting the local avenues.  As history would lead us to believe, we were in for another rainy day.  Modesto has hosted the Tour of California four times now and each day was a rainy one.  While the roads were dry for the circuit finish, the storm slowed the arrival and made for my wait downtown a long one. 

Eventually the guys arrived, whizzed by at a high speed, and the stage ended.  I immediately headed over to the team bus parking to track down Burke Swindlehurst so I could finally say “Hi” after missing Merco this year.  It was nice actually tracking him down this time around.

I also ran into this guy... some dude named Thor Hushovd who measures his own saddle position.

When the day was done, I headed home to my dry apartment in the ghetto.

Next weekend I’ll be hitting Greenville for USPros and hope to get many great shots of the race, but it’ll be a while before I get a chance to share them.  I’m very much looking forward to my first real vacation since 2000 and meeting up with some new friends.

The rest of my photos can be seen here:  Stage 1 - Lake Tahoe; Stage 3 - Modesto

Bunny’s Gettin’ Her Groove Back

Yesterday I got my bike back from the shop with the shiny new fork (that doesn't actually match) and a new seat post.  Of course, this would mean a ride (or two or three) this weekend.

Today was my first road ride since the accident and only my second ride (first was the short jaunt on the mountain bike).  I was so excited about getting back on the bike that I couldn’t get back to sleep this morning and ended up starting my morning much earlier than needed.

It’s all good though because today I rode my bike.

The anticipation was almost too much for me and as I was getting ready to leave to meet my friend; I was actually nervous and shaking.  The worry about what would happen wasn’t going to stop me though.  Nothing was.  Not even the crazy winds of 10-20 mph along our chosen route.  Any other day those winds probably would have deterred me, but not today.  Today was going to be a good day.

And it was.

Ready to roll out and sporting my Raisin Hope Foundation wristband to remind me how lucky I am.

I started with a couple of laps around the parking lot just to make sure I could remember how to clip in and out.  Immediately, I fell right back into the familiar routine that had become second nature to me.  I guess that saying about never forgetting how to ride a bike is true.

Although the wind didn’t stop me from riding, it did slow us down and cause us to cut our ride short, but the ride was nothing short of amazing for me.  I’d forgotten what it feels like to clip in and out of pedals.  I’d forgotten the feeling of the breeze on my face.  I’d forgotten what it feels like get down into the drops and hammer into a strong wind (my flatlander hills).  Oh, how I miss these things!  Okay, I could do without the wind.

It’s all good though because today I rode my bike.

Now, as I sit home getting ready to meet a friend for lunch, all I can really think about is my next ride.  I’m high on endorphins and can’t sit still.  Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Coincidentally, tomorrow is when I pick up my new Giro Ionos waiting for me up at the shop by my parents’ house.  There will definitely be a ride to celebrate that too.

Getting There

Friday marked five weeks since my accident. Alternatively, if you prefer, Monday, April 4, marked one month since the brain injury.

Over those five weeks, there were times when I honestly thought I’d reached my peak and would never feel like myself again. Interspersed were days when I felt pretty darn good. Most days I just dealt with whatever it was that happened to be bothering me that day, whether it was a headache, vertigo, virtually no concentration, or being excessively agitated. (Then there is the whole issue with numbers persistently tripping me up. I consistently invert numbers when I write them down, which isn’t great for work when trying to assign a page to students, but at least I’m aware that I do it now and my students are always more than elated to correct me.)

Perturbed by feeling so pissed off and sorry for myself all the time, I decided that at four weeks I was going to kick my brain injury’s butt. I also decided to give it a one-week grace period because late assignments should be accepted in a situation such as this. It was determined that at the five-week mark I’d get back onto the saddle. I stuck to this and showed my brain injury who was really in charge with a short ride on Dry Creek Trail. Of course, my road bike is still out of commission so my bike of choice was my Trek mountain bike, which saw dirt for the first time in nearly two years.

Having been advised to not ride alone when I was ready for my comeback (yeah, I’m calling it that), Chris was kind enough to meet me after work despite battling her own knee injury. I survived the ride and had only a couple of nervous moments.

Men's Pro/1/2 at the Turlock Lake Road Race

Saturday was a bit more unremarkable than Friday, but it was also my first day back behind the camera lens at a race. Thanks to Chris’s connections, we enjoyed full access to the course. We had a good time and snagged some good shots of the riders, but the day wasn’t all fun and games.

Unfortunately, a crash took out a couple of the women in the pro/1/2/3 group. They were taken by life flight to a nearby hospital with severe head injuries. I can’t help but worry about their condition even though I don’t know who they were. Five weeks ago, that was me, minus the helicopters, remote location, and actual element of racing. My thoughts go out to the women injured and hope they have a full and speedy recovery.

Now, back to me, since this is about me anyhow, I’m happy to report that I’m definitely feeling better even though my symptoms haven’t completely disappeared. I’m feeling confident enough to ride despite some pretty major skull discomfort wearing a helmet and look forward to hitting the road more often in the coming weeks.

See you out there! (Or some of you at least!)

Impatiently Building Momentum

It’s been four weeks since my accident and while things are moving very slowly in the recovery department, I think I may have had a bit of a psychological breakthrough a week ago after a tough first week back at work.

On March 26, I drove (yes, I drove!) up to Forestville with my friend, Chris, to meet up with some others for an evening of photography and stories from Scott Nydam of BMC Racing. 

I was a bit nervous meeting Scott, but the wine that I probably shouldn't have been drinking gave me courage to talk to him. It turns out that he's super nice and even asked how I was doing after my friend told him I'd recently suffered a brain injury. I’ve been following Scott’s racing career for a while and was heartbroken when it ended early due to repeated brain injuries. Last fall, Scott went to Rwanda to work with their national cycling team. He’s been sharing photos from his trip and the beauty of Rwanda frequently amazed me. Reading the stories of the riders, I was awestruck.  I'm now inspired by the work Scott is doing.

Fellow TBI survivor, Scott Nydam

Two things occurred to me during his presentation, the first of which is that in comparison to many others, my injuries are definitely on the mild side. However, each time I think about how lucky I am it scares me because this accident could have caused permanent damage (thanks again Giro!). Once I get back on the bike, I’ll be doing so with a great amount of trepidation, especially when it comes to descending because I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy and I certainly don’t want another similar injury.

The second thing is that in comparison to the lives of the guys on Team Rwanda, my life is easy peasy. These men have faced unimaginable horrors, and yet they continue to live their lives and follow their dreams. I feel that I have little right to complain and I should be doing more to help those who have real problems. Not that I’ll be going to Rwanda any time soon, but the thought has crossed my mind to find a local organization to work with. Perhaps I can find something regional for people with traumatic brain injuries…

However, my ability to help right now is extremely limited due to my injuries. As a teacher, each day I go into work hoping to make a difference for at least one student. And each day is a struggle trying to reach them. Now, due to my injuries, I feel that each day is a struggle for even basic communication, let alone inspiring a student to push his or herself a more.

I become agitated when I feel they don’t understand me and I question my clarity. I become even more agitated when I can’t understand them and I can sense that some of them are too (at least judging by an eyeroll I got when I had to ask a student three times to repeat what he said). If I can’t maintain patience with myself, how can I maintain it toward my students? The ability to stay calm and level headed in high stress situations has always been an enormous sense of pride with me. In fact, administrators have commended me for it. It kills me, daily, to know that I currently don’t possess that skill in the same manner as before.

Many people have reminded me to take my recovery day by day and I’ll get there, back to my old self. As a person that responds well to deadlines, I desperately want to know when that day will come and once again, it pisses me off not knowing. I’ve got things to do, people to help, and a world to change.

I Want My Normal Life Back

One becomes bored really fast when recovering from an injury. My feeling is that I’m ultra bored because I had to take the first week off work and I’ve now crawled at a glacial pace through my Spring Break.

I was overly excited about attending the Merco Cycling Classic in Merced the first weekend of the month. I was unable to contain myself as I drove into work on March 3 and passed two teams driving south and countless cars with beautiful bikes on racks. Unfortunately, my bad decision to not get off the bike and walk down that damn hill in San Francisco on Friday night ended my hopes of attending the race to cheer on Burke Swindlehurst in his first race as Bissell’s assistant director. (Seriously, I even wanted to chalk up the road for him. Burke, be prepared for the Tour of California, but I know you can’t read the road while driving so I’ll send you photos of my handy chalk work.)  My disappointment in missing the race is amplified by the fact that Bissell did very well and I missed one of my favorite domestic pros, Ben Jacques-Maynes, take the win.

March is when racing in Northern California gets into full swing. Sure, the Snelling Road Race (link is to my photos from this year's event) is a very well attended event in February, but Merco is when the fun really begins and top domestic riders attend. Nearly every weekend there are races. I held out hope that this weekend I’d feel up to driving east to Sonora to catch the Ward’s Ferry Road Race, which I’ve never been to before, but poor weather this last week and in particular on Friday put a swift and painful end to that hope. The race ended up being canceled due to snow on the course. Yes, I said snow. Can you imagine?

There is still hope that I’ll feel up to attending Warnerville tomorrow. We’ll see how the weather holds out and if I know anybody racing.

On top of the disappointment of not being able to photograph races I was looking forward to, I’ve found myself absolutely itching to ride and missing the bike. That’s another thing I’d planned to do a lot of over my break. Although weather most likely would have prevented me from riding much, being stuck inside has prevented me from seeing how yucky the weather actually is. At least when I know it’s raining because I have to be out in it, I come to terms with the fact that I can’t ride.

This is different though. It’s like telling a teenager that it’s absolutely forbidden they drink. It often only makes them want to do it more. Being told that it’s absolutely forbidden that I ride only makes me want to do it more. I can’t even use the excuse that I don’t have a bike because I have two mountain bikes staring at me right now. Mocking me. Pleased in the fact that they don’t have to face flat tires because I can’t ride them no matter how much I want to.

Ironically, one of the funniest pieces of advice I’ve gotten after my accident was from Garmin-Cervélo’s Jonathan Vaughters. He told me to drink. So there you have it, I’m encouraged to drink and forbidden to ride. Quite the opposite of my preference, really.

Not much to update on my condition except that my head wound isn’t quite healing properly due to a lost staple and therefore it still hurts. I got in to see a neurologist after taking twenty minutes to convince my primary care physician that I needed to see one. The neurologist was useful in helping me to understand what’s going with my brain because of the injury. Although, he wasn’t convinced that there was ever any bleeding on my brain despite the fact that the Chief of Neurology and his team of a babillion doctors in San Francisco said there was. Regardless, the questionable areas didn’t show up on my most recent CT scan so I’m more than thrilled with that news.

Physical therapy started yesterday. He didn’t seem helpful, but he gave me some exercises to do in order to retrain my brain to handle different positions. My favorite part was when he made me turn my head to the left and lay on my back. I very nearly fell off the table due to the intense vertigo, and after sitting up, I almost threw up on him. Certainly, I wouldn’t have been the first. I’m supposed to continue the torture at home for the next couple of weeks and return for a follow up.

Up next? Since I can’t ride my bike, I might as well listen to a person who does ride a bike (and a fellow traumatic brain injury survivor) tell stories about people who are living the dream. Former pro, Scott Nydam of BMC (still works for the team) is giving a presentation about his time last fall working with Team Rwanda. As a photographer and cycling nut, I’m looking forward to seeing his photography and hearing his tales while at the same time supporting a team with such amazing and inspiring stories.

In the meantime, I've joined Raisin Hope Foundation in order to connect with others who have more experience in regards to what I should except as I recover.  Granted my injuries aren't nearly as traumatic as most of theirs because I was very lucky, but it still helps to have people tell me that what I'm going through is to be expected.  There is so much about the recovery process that doctors just don't tell you and I've felt lost in knowing what's "normal" and what I should be worried about.  I just want to get back to my own normal routine and it helps to have people to lean on for support (sometimes literally because I have a nasty case of vertigo).

I've also started shopping online for new bikes.  I'm not optimistic about the condition of my Trek 1.5 and I'm using this as a time for a possible upgrade (it'll cost me almost as much as it's worth to fix it if it can be fixed).  I'm currently eyeing the Cervélo RS, Pinarello FPQuattro or more realistically the Pinarello FP3.  I'm also planning on checking out Orbea and Specialized.  Sorry, Sean, BMC is way out of my price range unless I win the lottery.  If anybody has any input, please let me know.

My Life Has Changed

My cat really hates my mom. She’s normally very skittish anyhow, but she will hide and not come out if my mom is here. This isn’t usually a problem since my parents live two hours away, but my mom has been staying with me for the last week so my poor kitty has been living under my bed since then except for at night when she ventures out to sleep with me.

Obviously, this isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s the only way that doctors agreed to release me from the hospital last Sunday. On March 4, I crashed by bike. This wasn’t a silly little rookie crash because my cleats were jammed up and I couldn’t unclip. This was a scary high-speed crash while descending a hill.

My friend, Chris, and I decided to ride the San Francisco Bike Party, which is a night ride in, well, San Francisco. Sounded like a good idea at the time. I had a bad feeling once we got out on the road. There seemed to be many inexperienced cyclists with varying degrees of sobriety riding parallel to MUNI tracks. Within the first couple of miles, I think I witnessed three crashes because of those tracks.

For safety reasons, we decided to try to stay up front. I felt great on the first little climb, but I had to drop back because I didn’t know where I was going. Eventually, the road pitched up to be pretty steep and then I dropped my chain. After fixing my chain, I caught up to my friend and remember starting a descent but the next thing I can recall was being in an ambulance and later coming to in a CT scan machine.

Apparently, while I was descending at about 25 mph, another cyclist pulled out in front of me. I hit her and we both went down. She hit the lottery with minor scrapes compared to my traumatic brain injury.

I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t one of the scariest moments of my life. At one point before I had a sense of what had happened, I remember talking to doctors in the hospital and reaching back to scratch my head or something. My hair felt wet and when I looked at my hand, it was covered in blood. Since blood doesn’t really freak me out, I stayed calm, but I was definitely feeling the pain.

It turns out that I had a severe concussion and two CT scans told the doctors that I had minor bleeding on my brain, if you could call an injury like that minor. Two X-rays confirmed that I have no broken bones. I don’t even have any road rash, just a lot of bruising. You can now officially place my name in the “Lucky” column because my Giro Ionos saved my life, or at the very least, prevented me from having any serious permanent damage.

What has surprised me that most is the amount of support I’ve gotten from the cycling community. I tweeted from the emergency room once I became lucid. I have no memory of what I said, but I suddenly had a lot of replies and well wishes. I even received some from a few pros and ex-pros (one of which DM’ed me and seemed a bit disturbed by the photos of my helmet I posted) and one charity offered to replace my t-shirt that had to be cut off me by paramedics. Of course, I declined to accept that offer, but I was touched anyhow.

Now, a week after being released from the hospital (and missing Merco… sorry guys!), I’m relatively comfortable at home and recovering. I have some appointments tomorrow and I start physical therapy on Friday because the neurologist said I need to retrain my brain not to spin out of control when I turn my head. Already the dizziness is improving and the constant headache isn’t as severe, but I can feel this will be quite a long recovery that is forcing me to rethink my goals for this year and the possibility of racing next year.

The distances of a couple of charity rides and training for racing are very insignificant when I consider what could have happened. I really do feel like a lucky duck and I’m thrilled to be surrounded by supportive friends and an amazing cycling community.

I would especially like to thank Chris Griffin for staying with me in the hospital in San Francisco then visiting me on Sunday in Modesto.  She also made sure my baby, although possibly damaged beyond repair, made it home safely. 

Another thanks to Saul Raisin for just general support and encouragement... you've gone above and beyond what anybody would expect in this situation.
 

I really prefer that red stuff to stay inside my head, thanks...

My carbon fiber seatpost is definitely toast.

 
More photos can be seen here.