Day 209 Norm

In my 'Golden Years' as a TV junkie, two of my all time faves were Beverly Hillbillies and Cheers.

Now the only time I watch TV is in motel rooms when I am on the road and ready for bed. I am proud to say that I have not watched any TV since 1983. And if it wasn't for College Football, specifically the UW Huskies, I wouldn't watch at all. I do not own a TV.

But back to Uncle Jed and Mayday.

I was thinking about being even. In no debt. I had to sell off a lot of stuff, including my cabin, to get 'here', but 'here' I am. In the black. But that is changing soon as I prepare to invest in my brother's business (a pizza joint) tomorrow.

So I laugh out loud, driving home from a rocking PB session, sipping an ice cold IPA on a spectacular summer evening.

Yes, I will break the law for rare moments of complete nirvana such as these.

I see Norm heading into Cheers to a resounding chorus of his name. Pretty cool.

Then I see Uncle Jed walking into his BANK and having management lay rose petals at his feet as HE enters.

I thought to myself, the hell with Cheers, gimme Ms Hathaway and Drysdale.

Photo: The boat to 'here'.

Day 208, Ablation minus 7

Long, long day. Two workouts on two hours sleep. Oh well. In between spent five hours getting another CT scan and MRI. All prep for Tuesday's big day. The ablation.

I think it will be fine.

I think I will be back at it immediately after.

I think I should sign up for a race.

You know, an Ironman.

My HR was fairly stable this evening. Power down, true, but a regular HR is more important at this juncture than a higher FTP.

So I am optimistic.

What else could I be?

We aren't giving up, so until directed otherwise, it remains,

FULL SPEED AHEAD.

Day 207, Newark to Seattle

I sit patiently a half hour from the airport. My flight is in four hours. Some food, gas, traffic, rental car return, air-train to terminal, TSA. I have time. Use wisely.

I will be spending the better part of the day, nine hours, en-route home. I have two important papers to author. Point A is Newark, Point B, Seattle. Phoenix is A1 but that is another issue altogether.

I want to start with something positive, and I fear that some of my recent posts have been slipping towards the shadows. Like the dream I had last night. I can summarize in one plot line:

She was desperate to keep him forever. He had a plane to catch. She wasn't hearing him warn of the urgency. Finally, pointing at his watch, he cried,  "I have to go, like RIGHT NOW". And he was as gone as she.

One of the papers (A) is for a triathlete competing in his first Ironman Sunday. He is nervous. My job as training partner is to provide calming support. The work is finished, he has done an outstanding job in both his preparation and his fund-raising, hitting aggressive targets on each. And now, race week is finally here. My topical, thematic outline:

Relaxation.
Joy.
Respect.
Experience.
Fun - wonder.
Price.
Accomplishment.
Devotion.
Service.
Presence.
Humility.

Those should get him to the run special needs station at mile 13. From there it is all about:

Completion.

The pix are from my cabin in Lake Placid. Build in the 20's to house the rich and famous of Albany and NYC temporarily 'vacating' their jobs and cities, I first noticed the bear and then scanned the walls for more. To my amazement, I was staying in a knotty pine menagerie. Who knows when these were done, and by whom.

The wonder factor again.

I am off.

Day 206

350 miles logged today. Most of them in the rain. On an Interstate. Without any decent radio reception. NPR did another nice job on the start of WWI. But I was longing for history on a more personal note.

Had a chance to visit with myself. There are some issues that need resolution.

As always, I think about women in my life. And how I could be so much more to them. If only…..

I think about my status as an independent contractor. A free-lance videographer. What that means. How it plays and my responsibility to my existing clients as well as myself.

To whom do I owe the greater consideration?

When does loyalty play a part?

What, really, is a conflict of interest?

What is the responsibility of a vendor, as compared to an employee?

What morals and integrity surface?

Exclusivity in the age of information?

Whom do I owe what?

And why?

350 miles and no clearer an overall picture. There remains more questions than answers.

One thing is certain.

I will do my best to do my best. If you want me as teammate, say so.

Otherwise, good luck and good bye. I do not have the time, the patience, nor the desire for chicken-shit mediocrity.

We shoot for the moon. Or miss by 350 miles. Like heading for Oregon and ending in Jersey.

Let's count it down.

Day 205, Because 140.7 is silly

Persistence pays.

Got it post, vice the rainy pre. The last shall be first, I once read somewhere.

In the can is the Hollywood vernacular. More accurately is, today, on the hard drive and saved.

Wasn't easy. There was risk. But we made it.

What value in life comes without risk, daring, effort and repeatedly getting off the carpet (floor, parquet or asphalt)?

Best sign of the day:

"Because 140.7 would be silly".

Persistence.

In 10:37.

Nice effort Lake Placid. Thanks.

Day 204

Sometimes you have to fight.

It's not always easy, walking in the park.

If you don't assert yourself, others will assert for you.

Decisions must be made to your highest calling and, in some cases, for your immediate needs.

I will not go quiet into that good night.

You have had your time, your opportunity and your space.

You treated me like a child. You played CEO with my internship.

I trusted you to do what was right and for our respective best interests.

When the going got tough, you bailed.

You kicked me under the fucking Grey Dog.

Still I stayed, hoping that time might provide the revenue and acceptance necessary for a new understanding.

As market share dropped like a brick from a bridge.

Any wonder?

You had your chance, now I have mine.

Good luck, I wish you well.

No hard feelings, but this time I am going to fight.

Day 203

Driving the Ironman Lake Placid bike course this afternoon, trying, in vain, to capture a complete 56 as back-up to Sunday's big event, because the forecast of thunder showers, I listened to an interview on NPR about brain power. Specifically on the percentage we actually use. Rumor and myth put it at around 10%.

But NPR did some research and came up with an author, an expert on the subject, and asked him a few probing questions, which is, of course, their style.

To open they asked him how much of HIS brain he used, and, somewhat unexpectedly, he answered. 100%.

It is a biological function, he explained, for any part of the body to try to find a way to be self sustaining and efficient, in the doing of its job. Or jobs. It, simply, does the best that it can and if measured on these terms, that is 100%.

Cool, I thought.

But it is complex, he continued.

I knew that was on deck.

There is a lot more to it than just trying hard.

Here we go.

So when all this dynamic complexity is scientifically measured in more "useful' terns, it is a safe be to estimate that most people, on good days, that end in a Y, sober, healthy, rested, hydrated, comparatively happy and free….

gasp

…probably functionally utilize between 9 and 11%.

A far cry from the 100% we started with.

Must be the aging process.

Day 202

Whew! Good one.

An hour delay out of Sea-Tac almost caused a missed connection in Phoenix but with a decent 40 I was last one to board.

Four hours to Newark. I THINK I got some sleep but who ever really goes deep to REM at 37,000?

Rental car was a breeze despite my phobia about having a hole punched in my DL because of the moto endorsement added on Tuesday, with the new one in the mail. Budget would have slammed the door on my hand.

Three hundred miles and six hours later I pulled into the Tail 'O the Pup in Ray Neck, NY, halfway between Lake Placid and Saranac Lake. A cheeky dive I have stayed at twice in the golden days of RCV production, roughly isolated as 2007-2009.

I went down the road to the Price Chopper to stock up my tiny, rustic, all-together thrashed cabin with supplies and upon return trip one-lane 86 was bumper to bumper.

An accident, a bad one. I saw fire, rescue, choppers.

U turn. Visited the Olympic Training Center, the IM Expo, saw some old friends and drove all the way around past Whiteface Mtn to get stuck in traffic from the opposite direction.

Finally make it back.

At the BBQ I foraged for a salad, corn bread and maize on the cob. And a pint of Guinness.

Time for a nap. That was a good one!

Day 201

Two hundred and one days, and today we travel.

This is how we roll: My truck (The Stranger) to Dad's. Park. Walk the mile to the ferry terminal. Hop aboard. Walk through Pioneer Square to the Light Rail station. Pay the $2.75 and ride to Sea-Tac. Lug my two bags to American Airlines. Check one, carry one. Fly to Phoenix, have a beer and burrito. Fly to Newark, NJ. Rent car. Drive to Lake Placid.

SLEEP.

Next post from upstate NY on Thursday. Enjoy the ride.

Note: The pic is Hawaii NOT Phoenix or New Jersey. But you knew that. 

Day 200 motor

I am on my Goldwing. Wind in face, power under control, a few drops of rain. Although the skies threaten, right now they are blue and gray. I feel fine.

I look at gauges. The big two on top measure speed and frequency. One is a speedometer measuring in MPH and the other a tachometer telling me how many RPMs per minute it is taking to maintain this speed.

There are three smaller gauges under the big two.

TEMP.  FUEL. VOLTS.

How hot? How much? How efficient?

You know where I am going with this.

It is the same as when we train indoors. Those are the critical data points. We heed their message or pay the price.


How fast am I going and what is my goal?
What is my cadence and how does it affect the ratio?
What is my operating temperature?
How much gas do I have in the tank?
Do I have the current and flow to maintain this effort?

I am the motor. I can be tuned, ready and efficient or I can breakdown, rust, crash.

Spinning takes a lot more than simply rolling the throttle. To go fast in traffic takes practice, effort, determination. You have to want to upgrade your motor.

Or ride your Goldwing everywhere.

And as footnote, today's post is the 200th of 2014. That is 200 consecutive posts. And remember the idea....could we go 365 without a comment? 200 of 365 in the books. Thanks.

Day 199, tight

Another tight schedule. A deadline. Three actually.

Such is the life of an independent.

There is freedom. As well as its flip side; Uncertainty.

It has been uncertain for so long now I have forgotten what security feels like.

Security of any dimension.

But let us be clear: Security is NOT the goal.

Happiness is.

Making the BIG question a rather simple one:

CAN I BE HAPPY WITHOUT THE ILLUSION OF SECURITY?

Lucky I guess I am too busy being productive to ponder the philosophy (again).

Or, like my brother used to say, "Just because you are starving doesn't necessarily make you an artist".

Or, as Warren Zevon boasted, "I'll sleep when I'm dead".

Or, as S.I. Hiakawa suggested, "Be happy in your work".

Or, as David K. Reynolds preached, "Do what must be done".

I am on a tight schedule.

So are you.

Day 198, Cowboy Neal

Before everything began to melt yesterday things were trucking' right along.

We did a super-solid 90 minute spin (my annual ode to summer with two Dead tunes as kickers) and then Tom invited me over for some farm-fresh eggs and high-octane coffee.

After that treat we toured his garden, house of hens and pasture. Very nice country spread, well maintained and uplifting. We admired a hundred year-old apple tree with hand-crafted woodpecker holes symmetrically wrapping the truck like tinsel on a Christmas tree.

THEN, we watched an hour (first three songs) of Sunshine Daydream and I flipped when Cowboy Neal showed up in some rare footage from Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Tom didn't recognize him so I told a little of the tale, and lo, there he was at the wheel of a bus to never, never land.

I was spinning on Tom's vintage Schwinn as Jack Straw jumped to life on Kesey's farm. Naked people were dancing everywhere. Life was good, the Boys were tight, hitting the harmonies perfect.

The take from all of that high-energy good vibration (double clutchedy) was a hand-scribbled sign taped to the rail beside Neal as he wildly and in complete control, piloted Further, it simply said:

NEAL GETS THINGS DONE.

Day 197

I feel horrible. Chest pains again. Zero energy. No focus and little ability to do anything other than the most basic.

And its Saturday night in the middle of summer.

Used to be cause for celebration, or a evening ride or run.

Now I need to lie down and try to relax.

I hope (pray) that the ablation procedure scheduled for a touch over two weeks, works.

So I can get back to 'normal'.

Because this truly sucks.

Sorry to whine. I know its a misdemeanor 'round here and we have whine sniffing dogs on 24/7 patrol.

Maybe I'll go downstairs and see if we have any smoked Gouda to go with it.

Day 196

A busy mind likes to complain.

Let it go. No need to languish in chaos.

There is drama enough.

Make it simple by doing one thing.

That physical thing can only be now.

You are here.

Train body and mind together.

Find your flow.

We call it the groove zone.

It is a sweet spot.

The training satori.

Where it ALL comes together.

Find it now.

As you swim.

When you ride.

With each run.

Unclutter and float.

You are not chained to your weakness'.

The time is now for change.

Let it happen.

Day 195 memo

Sitting and waiting in the Electrophysiology examining room this morning, the selections of magazines were slim.

Family.
Golf.
People.
Quilting Monthly.
Time.

I picked Time.

There was a ten questions one pager with Jack Levine. I was about to rip the page and tuck it in my pocket when the doctor walked in and took command of the situation.

Ninety minutes later, and the scheduling of a cardio ablation procedure (Aug 5) I just wanted to get on with my day, and forgot to re-rip the page.

The reason for my premeditated folio theft was the following quote that I cannot quote directly because I am now relying on memory and failed with anguish using the Google tool. Seems Jack left little trail. But here is what I recall:

On marketing:

1) You have to have a product.
2) You have to create a relationship with your perspective buyer.
3) You have to ask them for help.

Help, of course, in this usage is translated to 'buy'. Or in Jack's case 'to buy in'.

And we buy, or buy in, to achieve our goals. Political or otherwise.

Today's memo:

We have the product.
We will continue to create relationships (in many, and more) ways.
We will ask for the order.

Submitted for approval.

Sincerely,

Director of Marketing

Day 194

Steve, the moto instructor said it and immediately I was committing it to memory.

"Technique trumps technology."

He was speaking of bike handling skills.

I think you can guess where I was juxtaposing its wisdom.

Riding.

Racing.

Training.

Testing.

We did all but the racing part today in the hot summer sun.

It was a full day's work.

I learned some new tricks and had my bad habits shown to me.

We got to practice. We tested. The training was good.

Your form and your focus are critical if you desire improvement.

You can buy the worlds lightest bike (that the marketing staff calls the fastest) and expect to be a better athlete.

You would be wrong.

And you know why.

Day 193

Catch up day. Up and downloads, early start - late end. Kinda like what we were talking about after our excellent 2x20 set tonight. About how, in an Ironman swim, the buoys never seem to get any closer. You work your butt off and they never seem to come any nearer to where you struggle.

The good swimmers among you might argue that eventually even a piano will 'get there'.

And therein lies the rub. Because eventually we DO get there. We always do. It simply seems like an eternity as we flail away looking very much like a drowning French poodle.

We get there with persistence. And practice. And determination.

The same way we get anywhere.

Start and keep going.

There are moments along that path that are tenuous. There are always just as many when we find the zone and all movement is choreographed with Ravel as accompaniment.

Been there?

Of course you have. And you want more. I surely do.

Folks, there is magic in hard work. It pays off with compounded interest and fireworks at midnight.

All you have to do is finish what you start.

Day 192

Heard on local radio this morning:

A BAD ATTITUDE IS LIKE A FLAT TIRE: YOU AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL YOU CHANGE IT.

How many times have I slipped into the treachery of this fiendish trap? Pretending  that some external circumstance is responsible for my bad 'tude?

Too many times is the correct answer.

Despite my almost immediate recognition of its symptoms and my hare-earned ability to 'right the course' it continues to bother me that I am tested every day.

I mean, COME ON! knock it off.

Wait, who am I talking to? Or…..

…who is that in the mirror?

IT ISN'T WHAT IT IS (so stop aging that please) IT IS WHAT I MAKE IT.

There, you may skip the commercials.

Day 191, Vineman Race Day

I didn't need an alarm for the 0400 wake up call. I am used to sleeping light the night before an event and I was up and at 'em before the iPhone played its morning marimba.

I was in my position at the start of the bike leg by 5.

We decided, due to coastal fog and some light drizzle, that I would go with the sweep crew, last. ETD of 0945. I could have slept another two hours.

Almost immediately on the first take it became apparent that I was not going to be able to accomplish the objective of the shoot, keep it clean with as few bikers as possible in the frame. This is for the gamers. They want it that way. OK fine.

We captured all 56, then, in the pack.

Two hours later, including some harrowing descents and seriously tight turns, we had it. BUT…

I wasn't satisfied.

Sped back to the motel, downloaded the media and GPS, and took off for another lap.

Another two hours and I had what, I hope, they want with a very clean, just behind the last finishers, 56 miles.

Two takes. Some great stuff. I hope everyone will be happy.

But now I am toast. Made it through with 100% (or close to it) focus. But the toll was high. I need a nap.

And some food.

And a massage.

I will settle for this ice cold Negra Modelo until a Thai massage therapist with some pesto penne knocks on door 143.

We got it. Race Day 2014. In the can.

Day 190

Got off to a good start.

Went hard as long as I could.

Took a nap like a six year old.

Drove to Sebastapol for some lunch.

Went back for the swing shift.

Things were rolling along.

Metaphorically or otherwise, we ran out of batteries just past mile 40.

Cool Hand Luke is on the TV.

A bottle of local Zin and a loaf of Sourdough from Whole Foods.

Batteries re-charging, memory cleared.

Tomorrow we race.

Day 189

I was walking down the mall looking to buy a local map.

WHAM.

Serious stinger from heart, through shoulders and down legs.

Thought I was going down.

Rallied, and made my way slowly to the car.

Carefully drove her home (Motel 6).

Thought about 911, The ER and my insurance, or lack thereof. Does Washington Medicaid work in California?

Tried to take a nap, couldn't close eyes.

Took a shower.

Laid back down. Deep breaths, try to relax.

Drank a bottle of water, come on Warfarin, do your stuff.

Went out to sit by the pool.

Soaked feet and legs.

Tried to nap in the sun.

Ain't going away this time.

Stiff feel like shit. Eight hours later.

Going to try to watch a movie and fall asleep.

Hope it's better by tomorrow. There is a lot to do.

I need more than multi-purpose pliers.

This too shall pass?

Day 188

Travel days can be rough. Although today was only Seattle to SF, and a 56 mile drive north to Santa Rosa, it feels like an international. It is past ten and I am at long last in my cheap Motel 6 (where I stayed for my virgin IM about twenty years ago) tired, cranky and in need of sleep. Had some rice & beans in Cotati en route. Crossing the Golden Gate was foggy and slow. The new Firefly RAC is cool, saved almost $100 by renting off site. Have I mentioned Budget yet?

DO NOT EVER USE BUDGET RENT A CAR AGAIN.

This an all-out boycott and I invite you to join me. Pass it along. Spread the word. Tell the world.

BUDGET RENT A CAR SUCKS TAILPIPES.

Travel days can be rough. You don't need a rental car agency upping the already ridiculous cost of travel by blatantly and defiantly stealing from you. BASTARDS.

I will tell the tale soon. In the meantime, try Firefly when in SF and Enterprise everywhere else.

Thank you.

The streak is alive and I will have lots tomorrow, after some rest.

Ciao a presto.

Day 187

I want to keep a positive outlook. The glass is full as much as empty.

Sometimes it takes a little something extra to ensure.

That is why we practice.

We intentionally dial up the intensity to rehearse.

So when those moments, episodes, periods, eras show up, as they will, we are ready and experienced in managing their complexities.

How do I deal with challenge?

Adversity?

Despair?

Loss?

Failure?

Ill health?

Poverty?

Bankruptcy?

Training can help. At the very least it is a terrific stress buster, and at best a powerful tool to prepare for the atrocities hiding right around the corner.

I find that going beyond what I was capable of, as recent as yesterday, keeps me present and prepared.

I might not be.

There have been times in my life that as ready as I thought I was to cope with dire circumstances, I crumbled like a castle made of sand when things turned to the intense. When the going got rough. When people looked to me for leadership.

I have failed often.

But.

When the next time comes, and it will, I will be ready. Like maybe Captain Nemo.

I pray.

Day 186, Move it!

The most startling finding in the study is the drop in the amount of exercise Americans do in our free time. The researchers found that from 1988 to 2010, the percentage of adults who reported doing no exercise in their free time grew dramatically from 19 percent to 52 percent in women, and from 11 percent to 43 percent in men.

I HATE Stanford. One day a year. You know the day. When they play the UW. We got robbed last year by a horrible reversed call late in the game. Robbed, I tell you!!!

The other 364 I LOVE Stanford. They are the exception to many a student/athlete cliche.

They come in a very close second to the universities of which I wish I held a degree.

So imagine my delight when they released this juicy morsel of research (see above link). About obesity and its causes.

Something we already knew. The role of exercise. But this big a role? Not even I suspected it.

Sink your teeth into this one: 19 to 52 percent since 1988.

I stand amazed. Not necessarily surprised, but amazed. Maybe alarmed is the correct A-word.

Huskies, Cardinal, PEOPLE OF THE WORLD:

Start moving more.

Day 185

I told the class this morning that I haven't always been a big fan of Mondays.

I am now.

Something abut a fresh start. A new beginning. Re-set and go.

We hammered out a faux TdF stage for 60 minutes at 0530 and then hung on for a 2x20 set 12 hours later.

The first one stung. The last one flat out hurt.

I wasn't alone.

I had help.

I was inspired and I felt the need to reciprocate.

We got it done.

I just had some rice and a salad along with a protein drink.

I am gassed, spent, done.

And happy.

Hello Monday.

Day 184, Sandy & RPM

We were talkin' 'bout baseball. It is the summertime. Can't blame us.

I am a BIG Ken Kesey fan.

Ditto Jack.

Ditto Sandy Koufax.

I suggested that a cool mash up would be Randall Patrick McMurphy's amazing play-by-play in Cuckoo's Nest against an actual recording of Vin Scully calling the 1966 game, Dodgers vs Yankees.

So for starters this is what I came up with.

"Koufax's curve-ball is breaking off the table like a fucking firecracker."

Perfect.

Day 183, Half-Way Home

It was a couple of good days.

Wednesday and Thursday.

Sometime yesterday, the Fourth of July, less than three days since the cardio-aversion procedure re-set my HR to a regular, or normal, rate, I slipped back into A-Fib.

I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, but I knew the signs: Loss of energy, lack of power, tinges of numbness on my port side, light headedness and the annoying return of frequent bouts of positional hypotension. Yep, we're baaaaaack.

So I say: So what!

My heart rate is back up, irregular, but still beating. I remain in the game. I am among the living. I can function (with focus and motivation).

I will chat with the cardiologists and discuss the next move. In the meantime it is simply back to the track and more of the same.

I think I got it bad?

How about my friend Corinne Hutton (above), she does everything with no hands or feet.  Let's talk about courage, let's talk about faith, let's talk about hope. Let's talk about inspiration.

Her plight makes mine look like a stroll on the beach. Literally, I have been chicked.

Yet I will survive. We will survive.

And we will do it with grace, and fire and thankfulness.

It was a good couple of days.

Attitude will provide more.

And today is day 183, we are half-way home.

Day 182, Sam

Happy Birthday to Uncle Sam.

As much as I complain about the things I think we could do better, we do a considerable amount of good.

We have our issues. We have our weakness'. We fight amongst ourselves. We are bigoted and myopic. We are consumers and hypocrites.

Our inhumanity to our fellow man is deplorable. We waste. We whine. We pollute.

But we have amazing resiliency. We are loyal to a fault. We want to believe. We want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. We like the taste of freedom. And we will rally to protect it.

It has been a love/hate relationship between be and my Uncle.

Sometimes it makes me crazy mad.

Sometimes I am as patriotic as a Yankee Doodle Dandy.

I will admit that I am not a fireworks fan. Today is a tough day. I want to hug dogs and console Vets with PTSD.

I want to end bombs bursting in air.

I wish Born in the USA was our National Anthem. But...

I still vote.

I still like apple pie.

I still think we're number one.

Happy Birthday Uncle.

Day 181, what?

I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE:

The wrong question is why.

Why is this happening to me?
Why is this happening to me now?
Why me?
Why in the world?

The right question is what.

What do I do to accept this reality?
What can I constructively do right now?
What needs to be done?
What the hell.

Let's face it, we are going to ask why many times. Maybe even right now. Why are you reading this?

What have you got to lose by trying something new?

What you (me and everyone) could benefit from is more what and less why.

Why?

Because what is where it's at, not why.

And we already now the where.

And the when.

So why is whining.

Leaving only the what.

Day 180, Sucess!

We were successful! 

But not without drama.

With less than one minute till the start, I had an, ahem, change of heart.

I announced to the staff that I wasn't happy.

Which got their attention.

I told them I didn't feel 'good about it', after all they were going to intentionally stop my heart.

Facing away from the EGK I asked what my current HR was.

My favorite fellow, looking up, announced, '102'.

It was less than 60 ten seconds ago, what do your think is up?

You are fighting it.

Yes I am, that is what I do.

It will be alright, just relax.

Easy for you to say.

My favorite fellow quietly left the side of the lead Cardiologist, walked around the giant red tool kit and reappeared at the foot of the bed. She was rubbing my feet.

My HR went back to 'normal' in less than five rubs.

I closed my eyes and listened.

I opened my eyes and said 'let's do it'.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Out go the lights.

Thirty seconds pass, my heart is stopped and re-started with 200 joules of juice. I open my eyes.

And smiled at my favorite fellow.

Who was smiling too, because the procedure was successful.

Never underestimate the power in the touch of another human being.

We were successful.

Day 180

Ya gotta have heart.

I have the luxury this morning of placing my complete trust in my medical team.

They want to, almost insist, that I undergo another cardio-aversion procedure. For those of you with 100% healthy hearts, this procedure may sound a little, ah, irregular.

Those of us with irregular heart rates, arrhythmias, experience, on occasion, or in my case, chronic, symptoms that are challenging at best, debilitating at worst. You just never know when the heart's electrical system will short, re-route or over-correct the blood flow necessary to accomplish the task at hand. Nothing like 200 beats per minutes in meditation, or 30 when sprinting towards a IMPR.

The latter decoded, is IronMan Personal Record.

My cardiology team also insists (or do I insist for them?) that I should keep doing what I do and report to them for data recording. I am somewhat a lab rat here, as they have confessed that I am their only patient that tries to train their way through atrial fibrillation with such relentless passion.

They are also staring to consider (upon review of the data) that the relentless passion element plays a vital role in my self assessment of quality of life. I could elaborate here, but I think you get the idea.

In closing then, let me please make this perfectly clear, UNTIL THEY TELL ME TO STOP. I WILL CONTINUE TO TRAIN, TRAIN HARD AND ENJOY THIS CRAZY RIDE.

The procedure today is very simple. The incredible drug (the name of which I will remember today) does three ten second chores:

First ten seconds: Off to La-La Land we go.
Middle ten seconds: Stops your heart. Flat line. During this critical ten seconds of zero cardiac activity, they hit the big red button and direct 260 joules of electrical current to the patient's pump. Essentially a re-set. The idea is that it will restart in a normal sinus rhythm. And Bob will again be your uncle.
Last ten seconds: Brings you back to the land of the living.

I have failed this twice already.

I do NOT intend on going oh for three.

Ya gotta have heart.


http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/atrial-fibrillation/basics/symptoms/con-20027014

Day 179, Over there!

After a morning PR shoot in AC, I had the afternoon off. Philadelphia is less than 60 miles so I lit out for the City of Brotherly Love. Two things are glaringly absent from their vibrant downtown core:

1) Parking, and,
2) Public restrooms.

Why is this so tough? Yo Civil Engineers, City Planners and Downtown Ambassadors of Goodwill, watup?

Please understand that if you provide affordable, accessible parking, along with a place to, ah, freshen up, your precious profits per square inch will rise exponentially.

As example, this afternoon I gladly bought a 6" veggie delight at Subway for $3.50 JUST SO I COULD USE THEIR TOILET.

I also parked on the street for free on Bainbridge and 20th, a 40 minute walk to the aforementioned Subway, which was right across the street from Ben standing atop a huge building, of which there are several downtown, a few of them noteworthy.

Had I of had the choice to park closer, investigate and support the local art community for that 80 minute RT, I am quite sure my lunch would have been considerably more expensive.

Parking and peeing. They go together.

Come on Philly. You can do better.

(photo caption: Latrines over there!)