Originally Posted by TN3Sport
Dito. Motorcycle injuries zero. Running injuries/cycling crashes...too numerous to count. I've enjoyed trading 6 hour Saturday morning tri-bike rides in the aero position for 6 hour Saturday motorcycle rides.
Being 60 miles from home on a motorcycle is so much more relaxing than being 60 miles from home on a bicycle...
Have done countless 70.3 races all over the US including West coast, Northeast, Texas, Florida. Did Ironman twice, both FL.
I have much respect for you if you completed Louisville. Tough course with always tough conditions.
While doing your motorcycle touring, do you find opportunities to train? I would think adventure riding and touring would provide some great opportunities for epic trail runs in many of the locations you visit.
Nice--knew I'd run across another M-Dot guy eventually who also rode motorcycles! Would be cool if we'd ever done the same events (Boise 70.3 or Vineman?)
I brought some running shoes with me on the trip and have done a couple short runs since leaving, but had a curve ball thrown my way during / after IM Cozumel in 2010. Started with vertigo about 10 min. into the swim (vertigo as in holy shit I’m going to drown because I have no clue where up is). Got my bearings, changed my head position (used fingers to sight) and powered through. During the ride I thought I had Hyponatremia because my brain felt swollen. Just had this massive, massive pressure building up. And it kept getting worse from there. I really thought I was going to die, but that’s kind of how you’re supposed to feel, no? Couldn't use my fingers, couldn't talk, couldn't understand what people were saying, had major gait issues. I had had all the symptoms before, but never this bad and never this early. (Usually only on the last 1/2 of the run). Too bad, too, because I was set to PR based on my swim and bike times.
Anyhow, I ran literally with a bag of ice on my head to reduce swelling and just kept telling myself, “FUCK this--THIS is the last 140.6 ever.” Finished, got home, but the symptoms weren’t going away.
A couple months of tests (while I got worse and worse) and probably 6 different specialists and the end result: “you need to stress less and get some rest.” I went back to my sports physician, who ordered an MRI and…
Posterior Fossa Hemangioblastoma. A tumor right near the brain stem and cerebellum.
The whole "die without regrets" way I'd lived my life was coming about 40 years before I anticipated. I'd done a lot of what I wanted, and trust me--it bothered me a great deal that I hadn't ridden a motorbike across a vast distance. And I'd always thought to myself, 'if the Dr. ever calls and says, ok asshole, you have 2 weeks to live', I'd go out and steal a Ferrari, rob a bank, fly to Paris, and live the last of my days out memorably. I mean, aren't we free when we have nothing to lose?
Well, that wasn't quite my reaction. Not as bad ass as I thought I was. Plus I could barely turn or move my head without the world spinning around me, so stealing a Ferrari was out of the question. I cried a lot the first couple days, not afraid to admit it. It's horrible, horrible torture having to face the possibility of dying.