Catching Breaks

An update

March 2023 – Somewhere in Shibuya City

“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” – Mahatma Gandhi

One of my biggest fears is that I will lose the capacity to learn.  But this past year has afforded numerous learning opportunities, and let’s face it it’s not just the learning that’s important, it’s being able to apply what you’ve learned, that really matters (especially around seemingly ever-changing physical capabilities).

Hey, I’m not that naive, when you continually push your mind and body out into the margins of their potential, you will eventually cross a threshold or two.  That’s where living (for me) really is informed by learning and endless problem solving.   By progressing with learned intent, I can continue to stay afloat in the quick sand and continually push closer to my potential.   

How can I keep grinding out what I know I need to do for myself, every day on a foundation that is constantly shifting?  Well, I know I have to continue to manage my symptomatic being in as optimized a state as possible, so I can continue to engage in the types, frequencies and intensities of exercise, like running, that in turn hold back Parkinson’s. 

I invested a lot of time this past year, studying the latest research around brain health and human performance.  It’s incredibly hopeful to see the medical research landscape shifting from studies that can barely field statistically significant populations, to meta-data driven, behemoths, where the information coming in, is real-time and purposive.  These new modalities of biometric information and their availability will, without a doubt, change the research world entirely.  It has also afforded me greater focus on a larger set of tools that includes physical training and recovery, but has increased focus biometrics, progressive resistance training and nutrition. It’s not just that the individual areas create opportunity, but the permutations and the way they interact provide additional ways to solve problems and believe me, I have a lot of problems.

In the fall of 2018 after running the Chicago and New York marathons, I banded together with two incredible neighborhood friends, Robin Thompson (RT) and Kristy McCullough (and a few special appearances by fellow Parkinsonian Young Onset’er Peter Leech), to run the Boston, NY, Chicago, Berlin, London and Tokyo marathons together, with the aim of completing them in April 2020, in London.  Oh, and I would run them all in a row, even rerunning NY and Chicago .  This grouping of marathons is commonly referred to as the “World Marathon Majors” and by running all 6 within Race regulation, awards you the coveted 6-star medallion.

By the time Covid began upending the world, we had already completed Boston, Berlin, Chicago and New York, only London and Tokyo remained, in March and April of 2020, respectively.  Both marathons were ultimately cancelled.  However, while retaining the ability to complete both in-person, we ran virtual marathons for both, bringing some temporary closure to what we set out to accomplish, until the world got back on track.  

“the waiting is the hardest part”, Tom Petty

This turned out to be quite the wait, as London and Tokyo moved the race several times, until October 2021 where we completed a project we called “the long walk for Parkinson’s” (walking from top to bottom across Great Britain) , Kristy, Robin, Peter and I toed up to the start line in Blackheath (South London) and crushed it out, finishing in the rain.  

For a great recap of the amazing UK walk, Marathon, etc, please see the link here: walk4parkinsons.org

So with London in the books, we had just Tokyo left, but that would take almost another year and a half before Japan would open its doors to host the race, in March of 2023.   The timing worked well for me, as it allowed me to participate in the Marathon DeSables (265 km race in the North Africa Sahara desert) and  the Blue Ridge relay (A team, all individuals living with Parkinson’s disease, to take on a 200+ mile relay through the Blue Ridge Mountains). 

For more on the MDS and Team  Synapse’s successful completion of the Blue Ridge Relay, please see the links here:

In November 2022, Kristy, Robin and I completed the Dublin Marathon together during which I weathered a a pretty badly injured right knee.  So at the end of 2022 with Tokyo now looking good for March  2023, I made the difficult decision to quit running to heal the knee knowing that the only thing that would prevent me from finishing Tokyo would be injury. 

So, with my knee “on ice” for five weeks, I started thinking of new ways to stay active over the winter.  I was cleaning out our garage and it struck me how poorly utilized the space was, so I decided to try and build my own golf simulator, which would allow me to work on my golf game and still recover from the knee injury.  I did a lot of research and  changed my swing completely and then begin practicing to great success. I increased my average drive by 55 yards reduced the dispersion significantly (Basically, I’m hitting farther and straighter ….by a lot). 

The downside is I started feeling a pain in my side (which I attributed to a “pulled muscle”), ostensibly by practicing and playing with my son, Evan, too much.  The pain was getting worse day by day, so I eventually stopped playing all together for several weeks which allowed the injury to heal, I thought. This was great, because my knee was feeling much better, and with this injury, feeling better, I was ready to start running again.

Super Bowl weekend I had a planned golf outing to South Carolina, with several of my friends.  I brought my running gear with me and I would start running outside again, in the relative warm spring air in South Carolina, golf which I was excited for.  After the rounds of the first day, I was able to go running outside for a few miles, but the next day, after hitting a ball out of the sand, my club stopped, it felt like I hit a brick. I also felt a sharp pain in my side,  that kind of pain that dominates everything and drowns out all other senses, this was serious. Of course, I continued playing the rest of the day, but something was really wrong. It was more painful than it was before. 

That’s OK, I would just stop playing and it will heal up just like last time, so I did. However, this was a different experience, the pain did not go away and it became exacerbated whenever I try to run, sneeze or cough. I have a pretty high threshold for pain but this was on par with the kidney stones I had the pleasure of having a few years ago. I was starting to get really worried. 

So here I am two weeks before the Tokyo marathon (which I have been waiting 4 years to run) coming out of a extremely limited training, plan designed to prevent any injury as the primary object, with a massive pain that won’t go away in my chest/back.

So,  I went into my favorite orthopedist to get some advice on how I can work with this muscle pain, and still somehow run the marathon.  To my incredible shock, after some x-rays, I learned I had a broken 5th rib. BROKEN?  Huh?  How was that even possible?  Do you mean I broke a bone playing golf? How much of a mess am I, if I can’t even play golf without getting severely injured? 

 More importantly, what does this mean for my attempt in less than 2 weeks in Tokyo? What the hell am I going to do now? 

After talking at length with my orthopedist and doing a tremendous amount of research, I learned this was a more common injury then I ever would have thought, even Rory McElroy had something similar.  Which doesn’t make the solution any easier, but makes me feel a little bit better about the cause (Me).

I now had about a week and a half to begin experimenting with a system that would hopefully allow me to finish the marathon and the final major. Initial attempts to run and walk did not go well as I was experiencing tremendous rib pain, but then I bought a special three pointed arm sling and began running with that, and that seem to help tremendously, however @ longer distances of just a few miles, my back would begin hurting, ostensibly as a result of the eccentric stresses, the sling was creating on my body.  

So the Plan became to run (without any pain relief to stay in tune with things), as far as I could until I experienced the inevitable rib pain. I would then switch to the splint and run with it until my back started hurting at which point I would begin to walk fast, as fast as possible.

By race day my rib was feeling quite a bit better and I only had moderate pain walking around.  So on Sunday, March, 2023 @ 9:10 AM I toe’d up with Kristy and Robin again, finally on the start line of the Tokyo Marathon.  I’m usually an overly optimistic person, but not today; as I stood there, waiting for the gun to go off, I separated myself from everything mentally, preparing myself for what I knew was going to be one of the toughest challenges I have faced.

As I started to run, I was encouraged about how I felt, no real pain which continued on and on for the first eight or 9 miles.  I was completely shocked again that I was able to run that well considering my longest run in training with less than 3 miles.  Just about when I was starting to think I could be putting up a very good run and have an unbelievable marathon, the rib pain just appeared out of nowhere like the snap of a finger.  I continued running without the sling through the halfway point, but now the pain was so bad that I had to put the sling on.  Fortunately it seemed to be working, just as it did in the training, it reduced the pain significantly.  I was able to run/walk the next five or 6 miles at which point my back really started hurting.   I then started slowly walking, taking the sling off and on and changing my gate. I was consciously doing everything I could to mix up and even out the stresses on my body. Eventually was really nothing I could do to avoid the pain I just had to absorb it.

At the 20 mile mark, the pain was becoming almost unbearable, and it was manifesting itself in odd ways.  I was having trouble controlling my legs and my balance was off. People were starting to ask me If I was OK and that’s always a bad sign. It wasn’t just the pain that was a concern, the toll on my body was manifesting itself in weird ways.  My legs weren’t functioning very well and I felt out of balance, like balancing on the bow of a boat in the waves.

People continued to ask me if I was OK as they were passing by, and of course I wasn’t, but it did allow me to strike up some conversations, albeit brief, which was helpful in taking my mind off how I felt.

My mind started shifting, and I started thinking about dropping out, It was very emotional, after four years of planning, for the first time in my life, I was thinking about quitting a race. I’ve been stopped in races (HK100), I fell once during a ultra marathon and had to take myself out (KM100), and I passed out during the MDS, but The thought of quitting Tokyo, was seeming more probable as the race continued to break me down. I can barely walk……

I was filled with a mixture of emotions, I would have to try and come back next year to finish what I started and I would have to do it by myself because my friends would’ve completed it.  Of course, none of that is as important as my long-term health, so I had to be mature about the analysis.

I ultimately decided to slow my pace, and just grind it out, with the hope that the slower pace would allow me to actively recover and get me to the finish line.  A half mile in on the slower pace and it was clear that there would be no active recovery, it just wasn’t happening. This was going to be really nearly impossible and I started to get really down. 

About that time, a woman came up behind me and asked me if I was OK and I mused an edited version of a quote from Pulp Fiction…”I’m pretty far from OK” with a smile.   She said “I noticed your shirt” (I was wearing a Team Fox shirt) and  I wanted to let you know my sister has Parkinson’s and she thanked me for running, she said she was very “inspired by seeing my perseverance and determination.”  

It took every ounce of energy that I had but I talked with her a little more and learned she was from the UK.  Then, as she started to run forward of me, she turned around to face me, and let me know that she had stage four breast cancer, and she didn’t even expect to be here for the race.  She also told me that she was also running the 6 majors and is that she was going to be finishing her six star with one more race after Tokyo. 

Inspiration comes in the most surprising places and often when you aren’t looking for it, but need it most.  I’m not even really sure what happened next, but I became extremely emotional and my overarching thought was what right do I have to feel that I should quit the race in the face of someone like that.  I was so inspired to keep going that decided I was going to finish the race, even if I had to crawl the last 2 miles. 

I used a technique I learned from Lynne Cox, the great American open water swimmer, who I had consulted with on a swimming event a few years ago. I just started focusing on objects in front of me as a target to channel all of my efforts towards getting to.   Can I get to the sewer? Yes! Then, when I got to the sewer, I would look at the stop light, can I get to the stop light?   Yes!  At the stoplight find another object and on and on and on.This is monotonous and my pacing slowed from a nine minute miles to 16++, but I was making progress and I still have plenty of time to finish. 

The last mile was on cobble stones and my feet kept clipping the bricks, making it even harder and requiring intense concentrations, that I would not fall, but I was able to continue pushing through and eventually cross the finish line, remarkably with 45 minutes under the cutoff.

I stood there just past the finish line for what felt like an eternity, with a dead cell phone and arm in a sling.  I can only imagine what I look like, I was just trying to regain my composure, so that I didn’t end up in a medical tent or something worse.

Eventually I began to slowly walk through the corrals towards the Tokyo Finisher medals and some water. Then making my way around to the Abbott tent where, making it official, I received the six star finisher medal. Both Kristy and Robin also finished Tokyo, and not surprisingly, in much better shape than myself.

I did it, I actually did it.

I am filled with gratitude for my family and in particular, Heidi, who traveled with me for some of these races and has always been my biggest supporter.  To my friends, in particular Kristy and Robin who were both determined and crazy enough to stay with this through unprecedented times and to finish these with me. I ‘m also I’m very grateful for all the new friends we have gained along the way and the experiences with these different cultures and seeing these incredible cities from a special vantage point.

My rib is now starting to feel better again, a familiar pattern for which I hope this time leads to complete healing. I will go back in to see the doctor in a few weeks and I will make a full recovery, I am very confident of that.  Besides, it’s not like I can take any time off, it’s time to start the training again, after all, only 6 more weeks until London!