hospital time

Well, I have now been stuck in the damn hospital since the 16th, and still have no clue when I'm getting the hell out. It's so mentally taxing to be going through all of this. Earlier this week I had an epidural put in my spine to help control some of the pain. Forf the most part, it's owking out, but it's not 100% under control yet.

I'll probably be here in Cooperstown a few more days. I don't think they want to send me home until I finish up my next few doses of chemo and radiation. Hopefully by that point they will feel comfortable sending me home to recover. I think this is the longest I have ever been in the hospital. It really sucks, too. I'm so tired of this bed, and I just wish I could get outside and breathe a breath of fresh air. This is really putting a lot of things into perspective.

Anyway, hopefully I'll be home soon, sitting in the sunshine, thinking about snow.

Lessions in strength

Well, guys, the last few weeks could best be described as a completley emotional fucking train wreck for me. It all began a few weeks ago when I checked into Bassett Hospital in Cooperstown, NY on an early monday morning spent driving against the hordes of Orioles fans who had converged into town to pay respect to Cal Ripken Jr.'s enshrinement into the Baseball Hall of Fame. I had been dealing with excruciating back pains that had been plagueing me for weeks. It took just one scan to reveal the awful truth- I had been livinh with a crushed L2 vertebrae for the previous four weeks. I went infor a khyphoplasty to have thr spine repaired, and felt a lot better. The next week I had another round of chemotherapy, and felt like I was getting back on track.

For a while. While my back was beginning to recover, my left legs were beginning to experience pain. Nerve pain. And it was getting worse. So on thursday I checked back into the hospital to try and get my pain under control. Immediately I had an MRI of my spine, and found out that ther was something causing pressure that was eliminating the use of my hip flexors. Than the difficult questions began to arise. What was the cause, and how could it be remedied? Unfortunately, I was not having an easy time geting answers. Two different neurosurgeons giving me opposite opinions on the same procedure.

Being a summer weekend, the upstate docs were having a hard time communicating with my downstate docs. And when the finally managed to connect, the news that was given to me was quite morbid. One of my Doctors from NYC was surprised that I was still alive, and thought I had 3-6 months left to live. That really was like a Bruce Lee kick to the back of the skull. In the meantime, I was losing so much strength in my legs that I was unable to walk on my own. My lower body was virtually useless,and my upper body was getting weaker. Needless to say, I spent much of Sunday in tears, absolutely bawling.

Things picked up on Monday, however. Even though an MRI to my head revealed that there was now cancerous activity in my brain, there was still some hope. A new oncologist had suggested a form of chemotherapy in combination with radiation. This gave me a much needed breath of fresh air. I felt as if I had survived an emotional train wreck, and I had now been dragged from the wreckage and could walk away from the disaster of the last several days.

Today I had some pre-radition tests, and will begin chemo and radiation treatment tomorrow. I am finally feeling agood again, despite the fact that I can't walk on my own, and am battling a lot of pain. But I know that in the past I have found new strengths from within my inner being, and that I must dig deeper than before to find even more strength to get me through this. Which, of course, I will. Casious Clay was hit more than Sonny Listion, but Cassious still won the fight.

Nils

Tour de Chemo stages 9-13

Well, we'll start with the good news first: My appetite has improved dramaticaly. Granted, it's nowhere near what it used to be, but at least I'm eating normal food on a semi-regular basis again. But it's probably not enough. I weighed myself the other day, and I was less than 165 pounds. I haven't been this light since I was nineteen! Yet, I still have a little bit of a gut going on! I mean, if I'm going to go through all of this pain and suffering, the least they could do would be to give me a flat stomach out of this whole ordeal.

Unfortunately, the back pain hasn't seemed to have improved too much, if at all. Spengin seven hours in a car yesterday did not help. I was really hurting yesterday when I got home from NYC, and could not deal with it. I was still in severe pain this morning, and had a hard time getting down the stairs this morning. I could not tolerate it, and I wondered how much more of this shit I could take.

I decided that at this point I would try anything, so I went to see an accupuncturist. Hell, matbe getting stuck with a bunch of needles would at least distract me from the pain. Tuns out this was a lot less painful than I thought it would be. Hopefully it will do something about my back. Seriously, this back pain is the worst. I could deal with the nausea and fatigue if every little movement didn't hurt, and I could rest in a comfortable position.

Tour de Chemo- Stage 8

Today's progress could best be summed up with two words: "sesame chicken". For the first time in almost a week I felt like eating real food. I was craving Chinese food, General Tso's chicken in particular. But with developing mouth sores, I decided to go for something a little bit milder. So I sent my dad on a mission to the Ming Moon. Eating half a portion was a major accomplishment, but the fact that I had a craving for a specific food item was even more important in the grand scheme of things.

I also managed to get a perscription for some muscle relaxers, which will hopefully help to cut down on some of the back pains I have been feeling these last few weeks. The back pain has been worse than the chemo effects, mainly because they have been keeping me from getting comfortable enough to get any real rest.

I'm feeling much more optimistic now than I was earlier in the week. When I felt like pure hell, a wave of pessimism came over me. But feeling better, as well as a few encouraging e-mails, have really improved my morale.

Tour de Chemo- Stages 3-7

Well, the good feelings of the first few days would not last. Sunday evening I began to hit the wall. I was at a barbecue, and even though I managed to eat a little bit, I could feel myself starting to fade. I went home, and basically was horizontal for a long time.

Monday was probably the worst day of them all. I probably set a personal record for the most amount of sleep in 24 hours. Plus, it was extremely hot and humid, making things very uncomfortable. I puked for the first time. And adding insult to injury, it was my birthday.

The next couple of days were better. Dehydration was a major enemy, and I had to make an effort to put fluids into my body. I also barely ate the previous day, so forcing calories into my system was another important task.

I've been trying to eat and drink, despite the feelings of uneasiness in my stomach. At least it's cooled down a bit, so I don't have the heat to worry about. Hopefully I start to feel better these next few days. Being confined to the couch and watching TV, especially on a nice day like today, is incredibly tough to take.

Tour de Chemo- Stage 2

Well, perhaps the lucky number 7 was what kept me from feeling sick. All day I was waiting to feel like hell, but it never happenned. Granted, I was tired, and spent most of the day on the couch. Good thingthere was about five hours of Tour de France coverage, which made being a couch potato a little bit easier to deal with. Of course, I wished I was riding my bike myself, instead of watching other people ride.

All things considered, it was not a bad day. I ddn't feel sick, managed to eat a decent amount, and was even able to enjoy the neighbor's fireworks display. Actualy, they outdid themselves this year. I have no idea how much they spent on fireworks this year, but the show this year was almost professional. A long way from bottle rockets and firecrackers.

Tour de Chemo- Stage 1 complete

Man, talk about a long assed day. Over fourteen hours from start to finish. It's amazing how exhausting sitting around can be.

I woke up around 8 AM, and showered. I tried to eat a bit of breakfast, but I wasn't hungry. Nerves were certainly on overdrive. I even felt a bit queasy. Great, if I was queasy in the morning, how the fuck would I feel when my body was pumped full of toxic chemicals? I managed to eat about a half bagel and some juice. Buy 9, we were in the car, en route to NYC. I tried to nap a bit in the car, and ate some Twizzlers on the Thruway. Red food, you know.

We crossed the GWB around 11:40, and had to make a critical decision- where to eat lunch. I still wasn't feeling all to hungry, and was mainly worried that anything I ate I would just end up puking back up later. I immediately decided that a plate of greasy meat and potatoes at the Dallas BBQ was out of the question. I decided on the Fibe Bistro, where I had a salad.

At 1:00, I checked into the hospital for my treatment. After waiting for over an hour, somebody told me that the were waiting on my bloodwork. The brilliant receptionist failed to mention that the vampires would be sucking blood, so that pretty much meant I wasted an entire hour watching CNN when I could have been receiving my medicine.

Around 3:00 I finally began my treatment. We were informed that it would be about a four hour process. Wonderful. I neglected to bring any reading material, and I didn't have my computer with me so I could watch a DVD. I sent Dad and Kira on a mission, and they returned with the latest from Chuck Klosterman. Kira also bought me a bobblehead turtle from a street vendor, which was to be my good luck mojo.

After an hour, I was feeling tired and took a nap. That was a great way to pass another hour. I kept waiting for the sickness to set in, but it never did. I even ate a little bit of Chex Mix during treatment, as well as some chocolate-raspberry cookies. Actually, I probably overindulged on the cookies, because I wasn't hungry for anything when we got out of the hospital.

We headed back upstate, and I was surprised to see so little traffic on the G-Dub and the Thruway for a Friday night in the summer. After about an hour, I was ready to eat, and we stopped in New Paltz to grab a bite at the diner. The diner had those jukeboxes in every booth, and it felt like we were in the final episode of the Sopranos. Unfortunately, they didn't have "Don't Stop Believin'", so we settled on Billy Joel instead. I ate a cup of soup and half of a corned beef sandwich.

After dinner, we drove through the town time forgot (New Paltz if full of hippies who have probably been there since they got left behind by their buddies at the original Woodstock festival), and headed home. By the time we got back, it was almost 11:30, and I was absolutely exhausted. But I didn't feel sick, which was good. took some anti-nausea meds just to be safe, and went to sleep.

Tour de Chemo- Stage 1

Today was long as hell. Left my house at 9 AM, got back 11:30 PM. I'm fucking beat. I'll post more tomorrow.

Tour de Chemo- Prologue

Well, tomorrow I begin my chemotherapy treatments, or the Tour de Chemo as I am referring to it as. I figure since it is July, the Tour de France would make a good metaphor. Plus, there is a possibility that I might actually be on EPO before this whole ordeal is finished. But today was the prologue- a few preliminary things before the real thing gets underway. Tonight, in preparation, I had to take seven anti-nausea pills. Good thing they weren't huge horse chokers or anyhting, but seven pills at a time is still a lot to swallow.

I went for a bike ride today. I did about seventeen miles on my road bike. I felt pretty good, all things considered. I mean, I've been hacking up shit for the last few days, and my lower back on my left side hurts, but other than that I had a great ride. Up until the final three miles, that is. You see, after a typically wet and cold Catskill Mountain 4th of July, I woke up today to blue skies and sunshine. I vowed that I would get a ride in today, no matter what. So around 3:30, I clicked into my pedals. I was even maintaining a decent pace, despite my lack of fitness. I was feeling great.

But halfway through the ride the blue skies turned to grey. No worries, I thought. It was a light greay, and the clouds didn't appear very ominous. Unfortunately, the direction I was heading was also the direction of some much darker clouds. I picked up the pace, hoping to make it home before getting caught in any weather. With Jim Morrison singing "Riders on the Storm" playing in my head, I pushed the biggest gear I could home. Unfortunately, I was about ten minutes late. Three miles from home, the rain started. nd it wasn't a drizzle, but rather a full on downpour. I pedaled with all of my energy those final miles, just wanting to get home and dry. I finally made it home, got into a hot shower, grabbed some space on the couch, and slept until the Simpsons came on.

I Want A New Drug

Two days ago I was in absolute fucking misery. My entire body ached. I could barely move. I was groaning constantly. At one point I even needed help from my father to get off of the couch. I didn't feel like eating. I decided that there was no way I could tolerate this amount of pain any longer, so on Saturday morning I had my mother take me to the emergency room.

It was the first weekend of the summer, and the road to Cooperstown was starting to get trafficked. As I sat in the passenger seat, I wished that I felt good enough to be riding Rte. 28 on my bike. Instead, I was in agony, the thought of hopping on my Giant was just a dream. All I wanted was to get to the hospital, and have the doctor do something to make me feel better. But the baseball pilgrims had travelled from all over America, and in the midst of all the memorabillia shops and chintzy restaurants along thr roadside seemed to miss the sign that said the speed limit was 55 M.P.H. Nothing like making a long, painful trip even longer.

Now I know my body pretty well, and know how to react to the signals it sends me. This sometimes can lead to problems with doctors, especially new doctors like the one you might encounter in an ER. I had a sneaking suspicion that being on narcotics for almost a month, and the associated constipation, were probably causing some of the discomfort. Based on where I was feeling pain, I was almost certain of it. Of course the doctors need to prove this, so they made me get X-rayed a bunch of times, which will probably render me sterile. And after they looked at my insides, they confirmed what I knew all along- that I was literally full of shit.

But there is also a reason that these people go through 8 years of higher education. They thought that this was not enough of a reason for me to be experiencing the severe pain levels that I was. I was doing Rush Limbaugh-like doses of oxycontin, yet my body still felt like Joe Frazier after Muhammed Ali was done with him. They wrote me a perscrition for Fenatyl, and told me to supplement it with Advil. They also had me take it as a transdermal patch. Since my worst pain was the first thing in the morning, when I was several hours overdue for my pills, perhaps a constant supply of drugs would relieve some of that wake-up pain.

Of course, getting the stuff was another ordeal. The first two pharmacies I went to were out of stock. I experienced te same thing last week trying to get the oxycontin perscription filled. We had the pharmacist call around until they could locate a store that had it in stock. I picked up a 30 day supply, and s soon as I got home I put on a patch.

By this time I was pretty tired. So I popped a few advils, lay down on the couch, and took a nap.

When I woke up after an hour, I could not believe the change. I wasn't completely free of pain, but it felt as if I went from having my arm falling off to having a sore shoulder. I could move without aching all over. And I felt like eating. My mom went out for a pizza, and I devoured a slice, along with a bowl of fruit. I hadn't felt this good in almost a week.

Today was even better. Not only did I manage to get a decent night's sleep, but I didn't wake up in total agony. I had a huge lunch of Thai food, and for the most part didn't ache. A friend who saw me on Friday said I was completely different today. I started really to hurt when I started the oxycontin. And now that I'm off the hillbilly heroin, I feel a lot better. My doctor probably should have realized that an anti-authoritarian, Bush-hating, pro-choice liberal like me wouldn't react well to Rush's drug of choice.

This completely sucks

Tuesday mornng I headed down to NY presbyterian, thinking I would be preparing for radiation treatments to help relieve this terrible cough I hve been daling with for the last month. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Due to progression of the disease in my liver, a differnt course of action is going to be taken.

The big difference is that I will now be recieving chemotherapy. This is not the best news I could hear. Chemotherapy response rates in menanoma patients are less than spectacular, which is why I have not recieved chemo treatments in the past. Another eason that I have not had chemo before was because chemo is effective against fast growing cancers. Up until now, it has been growing very slowly according to the doctors.

For the first time, I actually am feeling sick. Weeks of coughning have irritated various muscles around my core, creating constant pain. Even with regular doses of oxycontin, I am in constant pain, and every cough feels like I have taken a body blow from Muhammed Ali. This is by far the most difficult thing I have ever had to endure, bith phsically and mentally. Previous treatments, broken bones, ecovery from surgery, even Mrs. Race's sixth grade from Hell at least had the promise of being over if I just waited long enough. But this time there are no certain answers. No telling how much longer this wil go on.

Chemo also will cause significant changes. My year-long attempt to grow long, flowing locks will be halted, and I will have to adopt he Mr. Clean look. Someone told me yesterday to expect to "lose hair wher you wouldn't think it would fall out." Well, at least it will be less painful than a Brazillian. Also related to that region, I have been advised to consider sperm banking. Oooookaaaayyyy. This was something I never had to think about before. But in the next few days I'm going to have to decide if I want to freeze my, um, genetic sample in case certain parts of me are never the same again. And I have no idea when I will drink another beer.

I really just want this whole thing to be over with, and quickly. Two weeks ago when they told me they wouldn't start radiation until July 13, I thought "I can't last another month like this." It might be even longer than that now until I'm back to normal. It's really hard right now. I'm in constant pain, and the pills don't seem to be helping all that much. I keep taking them, wondering how much pain I would be in if I stopped. There are a lot of questions, and no answers, and I guess that's the hardest thing to deal with right now.

Getting Grouchy During Downtime

The worst thing about this whole hurry up and wait situation I'm dealing with is the fact that I'm waiting to do something. Until I quit coughing, my physical activities have been limited. Basically, this means that despite all of this great summer weather, I'm on the couch when I would rather be out riding my bike. This of course, makes me a royal pain in the ass to deal with. I'm cranky, hurting, whacked on percocet, and can't go out and spin for 90 minutes to get the agression out of my system. I have a feeling that I won't begin treatment until July 9- my birthday.

I don't know why the doctors are dragging their feet on this. This is really getting on my nerves. Not only is this annoying me, I can't go in for more IL-2 treatments until this is taken care of. It's not a good dea to be going through that while having painful coughing spells.

Nothing like havng another summer taken away. Last summer I was on the DL until well into July. This summer isn't looking to be all that promising, either. I hate having this fuck up my plans, it's really annoying. When all you want to do is try and go on living a normal life, this stuff really can piss you off.

Up and atom!!!

Earlier this week I travelled down to NYC yet again (E-Z Pass should be giving me some sort of bonus rewards for the amount of time I spend on the Thruway). This time it was to Beth Israel to meet with Dr. Harris to treat me for this annoying lesion that's been making me cough so much that it hurts. The plan is to zap me with radiation beams at varied angles, so that they converge on the lesion, hopefully shrinking it so it stops irritating my trachea and making me act like the Marlboro Man late in life.

They warned me about the various side effects that I might experience. They were mainly concerned about having minor problems like nausea and the like. Now I thought exposure to radiation would have much different side effects. Bruce Banner got exposed to a gamma ray machine which caused him to become the Incredible Hulk whenever he got pissed off. Peter Parker got bit by a radioactive spider and became Spiderman. How cool would it be if after this I could climb up walls and jump off of high places without getting hurt? That would make my next trip to Whistler a hell of a blast!

Unfortunately I don't think that Professer Xavier will be calling me up after these treatments. But as long as I can breathe easy, sleep comfortably, and get back to riding my bike aain, I guess I can live without super powers.

Finally- some great news

No point in any long intros, I'm just going to come out and say it. According to my most recent CT scan (June 12), some of the melanoma lesions in my lungs have dissapeared!!!. Let me repeat that: some of the melanoma lesions in my lungs have dissapeared!!!

Here's the deal: I have been feeling like hell for the last two weeks. I have been coughing like I smoked two packs of Marlboros a day since Styx had their last hit single. A lesion near my windpipe was agitiating it, causing me to cough ad nauseum. By ad nauseum I mean it even made me puke a few times. I couldn't take it anymore, so on Monday I called my doctor. He had me go to NYC on tuesday, and decided to give me another CT scan, even though I wasn't due for one for a few more weeks.

The initial reaction was that the lesion near my windpipe had grown in the last six weeks, and that we would somehow have to reduce its size, either surgically or via radiation. Upon hearing this I began to get very depressed. For the last ear and a half, every CT has revealed worse news each time.

So today I went back to NYC to discuss various treatment options with an interventive radiologist. By chance ran into my oncologist in the building, and he told me the news. Upon further examination of the scan, some of the lesions in my lungs had disappeared. This was the first time Iheve ever gotten any good news from a CT scan since they found the first lesion in my right lung in October, 2005. Needless to say I was stoked. Later on, he also explained to me that wile the lesion that has been irritating me had indeed increased in size, he also mentioned that it appeared "necrotic", and that it may in fact be dying. Still, the doctors want to go ahead and try and decrease its size anyway, since it has been causing me so much discomfort. So got back to NYC monday morning to meet with another doctor.

It feels so good to finally hear some good news. Staying positive has been extremely difficult these last few weeks. Ths has been the first time that my cancer has actually effected my life, kept me from doing things. This news is a much needed pick me up!!!

If you're gonna be sick...

The weather here in New York has been pretty miserable these last few days. Personaly, I am glad that it has been less than perfect June conditions. For the past few days I have been feeling a bit under the weather, and logging a lot more couch time than I would like to. It makes being a lazy slug a lot easier to deal with when you don't feel like going outside anyway.

Fortunately, I have been feeling better, and the weather is supposed to improve as well. I attribute the inprovement in my health to plenty of rest and narcotics. Tylenol with codeine works! This stuff has really improved my overall well being!

It still sucks that I haven't been out on my bike for almost a week. Nothing to make me feel like a slug more than a week of physical inactivity. But considering the last ride went on I started t have spells of dizziness, perhaps some time off was a good strategey. The last thing I want to experience on my bike is a head on collision with a milk truck, brough on by a sudden lack of consciousness. Plus, I would hate to have my new bike wrecked before I even get 1000 miles on the thing.

Other than the setback I incurred last week, I have been feeling a lot beter these last few days. I realy beleive that this time the IL-2 s kicking in and attacking my melanoma. But still, I am reeling from missing out on the Ride to Montauk last weekend. This s the first time that something possibly related to my cancer has stopped me from doing something. It was kind of difficult to take, especially when I was feeling as crappy as I was this past weekend.

But, as little orphan Annie sand, the sun will come out tomorrow. The weather is supposed to warm up in the next couple of days. Perhaps I will finally bust out my mountain bike, which has been collecting dust all winter. It's been a few months since I've played in the mud, pehaps a tour over Scotch Valley, perhaps down the backside to have lunch at Nuclear BBQ is in order.

Punked

Right now, I am supposed to be in one of my favotite places in the world. I should be relaxing in at the end of Long Island, having recently compleed the Ride to Montauk. Up until 24 hours ago, I was all set. But I have been coughing like crazy all week, and yesterday I called up the doctor. They suggested that I go for a chest X-ray to make sure that I wasn't experiencing any fluid or infection in my lungs. Fortunately, there wasn't. I waited all afternoon for the doctor to call back, ut never heard anything. So I went to Rite-Aid, and picked up some over the counter cough syrup, which seemed to help out.

I was feeling to beat to make the drive from the Catskills to the Island. I decided that I would have to eat the $98 I spent, and rest up. It turned out t be the right decision. I woke up this morning feeling sick, and ended up throwing up as well. That was a good indicator that today was probably not a good day to go ride 66 miles. Even after I woke up, I spent most of the morning on the couch, sleeping intermittently.

Right now I feel the way I expected to feel last week in the hospital. Which is funny, because last week I didn't fel this bad. Perhaps the IL-2 is just taking a bit longer to kick in or something. Still, this really sucks. But if this the the penalty for kicking cancer's ass, I will gladly accept it.

I'm back

I know it’s been awhile since I checked in here, so I figured I better let everyone know what’s been going on with my life for the last week and a half.

On May 19th, I entered the Harriman Mini triathlon just north of NYC. As far as the race went, I have mixed thoughts. I think I started the swim too fast. Well, maybe not too fast, but all I know was that I was breathing too hard too fast. I have a feeling that the nerves and adrenaline at the start line elevated my heart rate, along with trying to swim in a mass of 75 other people, trying to avoid getting kicked and punched in the head the entire time. The water temperature was 63 degrees, and compared t the air that day, it actually felt warm. But about halfway through I could feel the tension from my wetsuit. It’s a surf suit, not designed to have the arm flexibility required for full on swimming. As a result of this, I spent the first ten minutes of the bike trying to get my heart rate to drop below 165. I can barely reach this when training, but for whatever reason my hear rate spikes during races. It was a cold and rainy course, but I managed to pass a few people along the way, especially on the technical, twisty descents. The run, on the other hand, totally sucked. I knew this all along, but it was worse than I had anticipated. I began to get shin splints and side stitches immediately. I think I ended up walking half of the course, and ended up taking over an hour and a half to do a 10K run.

Two days later I entered NY Presbyterian for another round of IL-2 treatments. My doctors suggested I try taking a dose of a type of chemotherapy before taking on the IL-2. Overall I managed to get 8 doses of IL-2 in me before heading home on Saturday.

I spent Sunday resting, and saw Pirates III at the movies. On Monday I felt up to doing a ride, and I took one yesterday as well. I’ve got the 66 mile Ride to Montauk this Saturday, and the weather looks good. That’s all for now.

The forecast calls for pain

Alright- it looks like I'm in for a few days fun. A week or so that will test my limits beyond anything I have ever done before. A schedule jam packed with discomfort and suffering.

Tomorrow I will punish myself by racing the Harriman Mini triathlon. 6/10 mile swim in a ball-numblingly cold lake, followed by 29 miles on the bike (with 3000' of climbing), followed by a ten K run. Why the hell did I agree to this king of misery? The same reason most men put themselves through misery- a beautiful woman convinced tham to do it. Although I will be laughing at this beautiful woman as I pass her while she is hacking her way up the hills! (Although seriously, Court, you will fucking slay this race!)

For most people the tri would constitue enough sadomasochistic behavior for one week. But I, as we all know, am not like most people. So on monday I wil be checking into NY Presbyterian for roughly a week, where they will be pumping my body full of chemicals, pretty much causing me to puke my guts out and forgo sleep for a few days. And to think, I remember when a week of puking and hallucinations was caled "spring break" ;)

So in 24hours I will be donning my wetsuit, nervously waiting to dive in to some cold water. At least that will inspire me to swim faster- getting the hell out of that lake is going o be a huge motivator! And even though I haven't trained in almost a week due to a strained abdominal, I'm stoked for the bike (or at least beating Ceej for this leg). As for the run, well, the run is going to suck. But I knew that all along. But at least I'll be telling myself the whole race that this won't be as painful as the next week will be. And I guess all next week I'll just be telling myself that at least this isn't as painful as the pain that so many beutiful women have put me through in the past.

Injury sucks

Well, nothing quite like hurting yourself right before the big event. It seems that I have pulled an abdominal muscle over the weekend, and it doesn not want to heal in a speedy manner. So all week I have been on the couch, trying to heal. It doesn't help that this is a very difficult muscle to relax. I mean, even simply walking stresses it.

I don't even know how I did this. It wasn't one of those instant pain situations. Rather, this was a gradual occurance. One of those next morning things. I keep hoping it will be gone the next morning, but it never is.

This totally sucks- everything was going so well. Better than I expected. And than this had to happen.

Slower=faster

An important part of training for any type of physical activity is being able to understand your own body. The more you understand your own physiological tendencies, the more efficient you can become. And you can apply the appropriate techniques that will provide you with the ptimum result.

Even though I have been riding bikes somewhat seriously for almost 20 years now, this year is the first time I have ever had a computer that measures cadence. I wish I had invested in one of these things years ago, because in the last two days I have made a startling discovery.

Conventional wisdom states that the optimum pedaling cadence for a cyclist is abut 90 RPM. In the past would measure this by counting my revolutions for fifteen seconds, than multiply by four. I would usually end up with a cadence pretty close to 90 RPM.

As soon as I installed the new computer, I discoverd that my cadence was actualy in the high 90s. No big deal, I thought. Efficient spinning. Good form. Just like Lance. So I would try to keep my cadence around 95 RPM, shifting gears in order to maintain the pace.

Now, one thing I crtainly need to improve upon is my leg strength and power. One of the better methods for this is to do intervals pushing a bigger gear at a lower cadence. So yesterday I decided to do a few five minute repeats, sing a big enough gear to keep my cadence around 80 RPM, and my pulse around 150 BPM.

To my surprise, when I started to push the bigger gear, I noticed something. In order to get to 150 BPM, I had to push a really big gear, and was flying. Now I intended to recvover between intervals spinning out in a low gear, around 100RPM with a pulse around 130. I decided to recover at the lower cadence, and see what happenned. I was able to go faster at 130 BPM by pushing a bigger gear than I was spinning a smaller gear at the same heart rate. I ended up having the fastest average speed of any ride I have had all year!

So I decided to try the bigger gear/slower cadence during my ride today. Even though my main focus today was climbing some steep hills, where for some pitches you don't care what your cadence is, yo just try to keep moving. On the flats I tried to keep my cadence around 80-85 RPM, and noticed an increase in average speed. I have been riding these particular roads long enough to know how fast I can go. And I was going faster than usual. All by doing one thing a little slower.