By Dr. Michael Cerami
Race report from Ironman 70.3 August 5th, 2013- Boulder Colorado
As some of you know, this was to be my “A” race for the year. All my triathlon training was focused from early November to the August 5th date. I was very excited as I’ve never raced in Boulder before and it being the Mecca of multisport, well that was the icing on the cake. 2 weeks prior to the race, Cari, my trainer had me doing a final killer week prior to taper and when I finisher it, I felt powerful and ready.
There were many days throughout the season build up that I just needed to put my head down and keep pushing and shut off my brain. But those days were over and the race was upon me. One week out, my friend Mike and I made final arrangements for the drive out to Colorado and were getting excited as kids. Mike and I would be racing in the same age group so that made it even more fun as our abilities are pretty similar and we wanted to see who would come home with bragging rights.
Then everything changed.
Tuesday July 30th I awoke with some tooth pain. I thought this was odd because I never have this type of problem. I observed the pain as the day went on and it progressively got worse. I started by taking Phenocane for the first 8 hours, but then had to switch to ibuprofen as the pain was unrelenting. I then made an appointment with my dentist for Wednesday.
I walked in to the dentist hoping this was something simple and he could address it quickly. That wasn’t the case. After an x-ray and a brief exam, the dentist diagnosed me with an abscessed tooth that had developed under a 14 year old root canal. Dang it, I said not now! My mind was spinning trying to figure out solutions and options for the tooth and the race. I was leaving for Boulder the next day and didn’t have time to make a concrete decision because I needed more information. The dentist gave me a script for antibiotics to treat the infection as well as one for Percocet (if I needed it). At this point the pain was uncomfortable but manageable; I was getting 12 hours of relief out of the ibuprofen and felt I could manage through the next 4 days. That was about to change.
Thursday morning came and I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep so I was late with final packing and grumpy. The pain increased dramatically overnight and I had to resort to the narcotics and they brought amazing relief (thank you!) on Thursday morning. Not something I wanted to do but there weren’t any other options. We ended up leaving Salt Lake around 1pm with a plan to stop around 8pm in Colorado that night and then do a quick blast into Boulder Friday morning. “3 more days”, I kept saying, I can make it 3 more days.
By 4pm Thursday the pain returned and I was getting only 4-6 hours of relief now, even with the narcotics. The pressure being applied by the infection under the tooth was pushing the tooth out and it hurt like hell. Mike did his best to keep the conversation going as we worked our way east, but at times I just need to get quiet and mentally manage the discomfort.
Then we hit the big mountain passes. OMG! I didn’t realize the pressure from going over Eisenhower pass would ramp up the pain another 2 levels. Man this thing hurt! And, the more I got behind not taking the meds, the longer it would take to get relief. It took me 2 days to figure out how to balance out limiting the meds and still have some relief. I was happy to see the other side of the Rockies and find a motel where we could crash for the night. “2 more days…”
Friday and Saturday ran together like I was in jet lag but still managing some semblance of excitement. We picked up our race packets Friday and did a 30 minute swim at the race venue, got a bite to eat and then drove the bike course to see what we were in for. Wow, this was going to be great, I thought. Smooth, flat roads for fast riding, I’m going to like this ride I said to Mike. The run course was a bit of a challenge as there would be now shade and on trails, but we felt good about it. Saturday we did a bike run prep to get the muscles firing and even thought I was in pain I felt good I thought. We did some odds and ends (including getting another prescription filled at Walgreens) and headed back to the house to do some final pre race prep.
Saturday night- AAAGGGGHHHHH!. The night seemed to never end. I felt like a zombie and was taking pain killers like candy all night to keep the pain at bay. Not good but there were no other options. In the morning we had breakfast and packed the car at 4:30am and then made the trip to the Boulder reservoir – it was go time!
I did the pre-race warm up with my wetsuit on and even though I was still feeling “weird” I had convinced myself I could do this race. I had never dropped out of anything in my life and I wasn’t about to start now. Suck it up and get it done I said to myself. 10 minutes to our start wave.
Mike and I wished each other good luck, banged our fists together and went into the zone. There were about 50 guys in our wave so it was pretty easy to find an opening when the swim start gun went off. Within 3 minutes I knew I was in trouble. I had no power and was hyperventilating and super anxious. Anyone who has done a triathlon knows it can be a bit nerve racking at the start until you settle in but this was different. I felt bad and all the self talk in the world wasn’t helping. I continued to struggle for the next few minutes as I watched my wave head leave me in the dust. I swallowed my pride after flailing around for another 5 minutes and worked my way over to a kayak that I grabbed onto. If I could just re-group I thought, I could still finish this thing and once I got on the bike I would be fine. 2 minutes later my heart rate came down and I decided again I was ready; who cares how slow my time would be, I just needed to keep moving.
Moments later I was done. That’s it. I don’t know what happened but there was no going on. I felt horrible, mentally and physically. I put my hand up and flagged a kayak and they got me onto a jet ski to take me ashore. I thought I was going to die out there and this was getting dangerous. I sat on the doc for 20 minutes and then was convinced by the med team to go to the med tent where I spent the next 90 minutes on a cot dizzy and shivering with a blanket on me in 75 degree weather. I began to think through how little sleep I had gotten in the past 4 days and realized I had taken more narcotics that week then possibly I had consumed in total during my entire life. Things were starting to make sense through the brain fog.
I eventually left the med tent and wandered around as the race was progressing. I saw my bike sitting all by itself while the other 2000 people were out hammering that bike course I wanted to ride so badly. I was so bummed out; a humbling and sad day for sure.
A few hours later I cheered my friend Mike into the finish chute and got him a coke and cookie to help him start his re-fueling. When he cooled off he told me that when he saw me all dressed at the finish line, he I thought I totally crushed the course and had a great race. Ha hah, far from it.
I slept most of the day when we got back to our house and tried not to think about the race. We headed back to Salt Lake Monday and I was actually feeling better as the antibiotics were suppressing the infection. I had my tooth repaired and was on my way to recovery.
This experience taught me another level of acceptance and I’m sure many of you can relate to. The following weekend I spent 4 days working with The Tour of Utah Medical Staff and was fortunate enough to treat Christian Vandevelde and Tyler Farrar from Team Garmin as well as Lucas Euser who finished 8th overall. As a good friend said after the race weekend,”Look at it this way, things can only get better.” And he was right, they certainly did.
Thanks for reading.
