2013.

2013, by far, was a year of firsts.

Boston & the Drake Relays

In April, everyone took a hit; from runners and Bostonians, to anyone with a soul. The bombings at the Boston Marathon -- like any terrorist or terrorist-like act -- was sick. I was also unnerved by the sudden uproar of runners: in my mind, any act of cowardice should receive equal uproar. That said, the rallied community restored faith, and like most, took to the streets with a renewed sense of pride.

The first half of Bulldog Hill (click
to enlarge). After the brief downtick,
the second half of Bulldog kicks back
up wards 9% grade.

The Blue Oval of Drake Stadium.

The first race on my calendar since Boston -- and one I'd never done before -- was the Drake Relays' Hy-Vee Road Races. My sister ran with me. Beyond the constant grumblings about Boston, the immediately noticeable difference in this race from all others previous was the security. All sporting events have some semblance of security, though easily blending in to the background, easing in to lawn chairs, quick to jump only at the first sign of aversive condition. But this time it was different: robot-like and faceless guardsmen lined the start and finish line, donning weapons and helmets. The uniformed individuals with faces showed intense vigilance. Smiles were everywhere, just not in the forces on guard. Though it came with a sense of true safety, it was not without a truly bizarre aire of steely tension.

From left, my grandma, my mom, me, and
my sister, with the Blue Oval in the background.

Beyond these new and peculiar surroundings, the race itself, the Hy-Vee Road Races, was absolutely one to revisit very soon. Even just the 10k distance runs through some of Des Moines' most historic of sites. The start line begins in front of historic Drake Stadium, home of the annual Drake Relays, one of the oldest and most prestigious track and field events in the country. From Drake, runners dive straight in to downtown, running between the skyscrapers of central Iowa and past famous Pappajohn Sculpture Park. The jaunt back north includes the dreaded Bulldog Hill(s), a half-mile stretch of hill(s) (technically there are two) with average grades around 6%, and maximum grades of almost 12%. The reward comes while approaching Drake Stadium once again, but this time running past the start line, and taking a left around the stadium, and entering it from the East side. The final 400 meters are completed on the famed Blue Oval inside Drake Stadium, in front of many Drake Relay fans. The event is well-organized, and always one worth remembering.

Hospital Hill

Hospital Hill with grades (Click to enlarge).

2013 saw a huge uptick in running races, particularly near the end of the year (more on why in a bit). As far as middle-distances go, beyond Hy-Vee, my favorite in '13 was easily Hospital Hill. This one is a Kansas City classic. In 2013, Hospital Hill was in its 40th run, starting back in 1974 with a simple 6.8-mile race. In 1975, a half-marathon was added, and in 1976, the 6.8-mile distance became 7.7 (don't as me why). In 1991, the 7.7 then became an 8k (which makes more sense), which then split in 2001 in to a 5k, 12k (and still the half-marathon). Today, the distances stand at 5k, 10k and half-marathon. Though the distances seemed to have constantly been undergoing shift, the event has one thing that has always remained: the dreaded climb up Hospital Hill. (Read here if you want more history on the event.)

39th Street turnaround at Hyde Park (Click to enlarge).

Hospital Hill is a three-quarters of a mile climb through the University of Missouri-Kansas City (UMKC) downtown campus. The average grade runs about 6%, maxing out at almost 13% in spots (similar to Bulldog Hill). To make matters worse, the Hill almost always takes place on opening miles of all three courses. And then, to add insult to (possibly literal) injury -- on the 10k and HM courses, at least -- additional short-but-painful jaunts are tossed in the mix, particularly the 39th street turnaround at Hyde Park.

Whether or not you "enjoy" running up hills, the Hospital Hill Run is worth at least one visit, at least for the 5k distance, if not to even just walk it. The community rally around this event is truly something special. I will be returning for many years to come.

The Tour of Lawrence & "The Accident"

Hills conquered, mid-summer racing season is always criterium season. Area criteriums pop up all around the area, all centered around the big three: The Tour of KC, The Tour of Lawrence, and the Sunflower State Games -- almost always situated on back-to-back-to-back weeks.

For '13, I skipped the New Longview Criterium (memory doesn't serve as to why, although the prior season I had a minor "spat" with one of the organizers about allowing next-up racers to practice on the course before the previous race had even concluded -- so it may have been due to that), but got my ToKC fill with my first-ever time around downtown Lee's Summit in the Downtown Criterium on day 3. Despite my claustrophobia among the tight streets and compacted riding groups, downtown criteriums have always been a blast. That, and I had once-again planned on hitting all three days of the Tour of Lawrence. This year I wanted to be competitive for my team, so hitting day 3 of the ToKC seemed an appropriate move. I raced, I had fun, I readied for the Tour of Lawrence.

Friday night always includes the downtown Street Sprints. The year previous (2012) I actually did well, getting to the 4th of what would be 9 heats, only to drop my chain 75m before the finish line. I was sprinting for first place in the heat, only to be forced to roll across in last. This year I would not make the same mistake: I purchased a "chain-catcher" to avoid the same mishap. I was out in the first heat. Serious bummer. I'd come up with an excuse as to why, but I don't remember what happened.

A photo I'd taken of the start line at the Tour
of Lawrence's Campus Circuit Race. A photo
I don't remember taking of a scene I don't
remember experiencing.

Saturday came the oft-dreaded Campus Circuit Race. Despite its shorter duration for Category 5 racers (which I was -- at least for the time being...I'd planned on "catting-up" after the Tour of Lawrence), the efforts up and down Mount Oread over and over are lung-searing and quad-destroying. To prepare, I had been frequenting Shawnee Mission Park and doing hill-climb exercises all summer. I felt much more prepared that before. I was ready.

Or so I think I felt ready. Truth is, I don't remember getting up that morning. I don't remember what I had for breakfast, or if I ate breakfast at all. I don't remember how I prepared to set out to race. And, as I'd wrote before, I don't even remember why I was out in the first heat of the street sprints the night before -- in fact, I don't even remember the Street Sprints at all, and only know I was out in the first heat because I had been told so.

Everything about the following days, and even weeks, I only know (or think I know) because I had been told so, a fact that even to this day is grossly disorienting and harshly unsettling.

The 2013 Course for the Tour of
Lawrence Campus Circuit Race.

Previously, in 2012 and years' before, the course started and finished in front of Wasco Hall, after a short sprint down Jayhawk Boulevard. This year, due to a massive street repaving project, much of Jayhawk Boulevard was either closed, or riddled with potholes and missing sections of blacktop. For 2013, the course would only cross Jayhawk Boulevard on Sunflower Avenue. This intersection would also serve as our start finish line, and at the very top of "Mount Oread." The course plummeted down the intersection of Sunflower and Jayhawk to Mississippi Avenue, past Memorial Stadium. It would round Memorial Stadium and out towards 9th Street, up the long Emery Road climb on to Mount Oread, over the false-flat West Campus Road, eventually through the roundabout at Jayhawk and back down Oread on Naismith. Then, down Naismith and on to Sunnyside, we would wind in and out of the surrounding neighborhood, only to be spit back out on to Sunflower Avenue and the nasty climb back up Oread to the start/finish line.

The group before us had just finished racing, so I'd set out to warm up for the Circuit race by taking a lap or two around the course before my category's start. Presumably I did my lap around the course up Emery to the top of Mount Oread without issue. The dive down Naismith Drive is where everything when horribly, horribly wrong.

The top of the pink circle is where I started hitting divots, eventually
popping me off my bike and on to the ground near the bottom of the circle.
The pink arrow is how far (reportedly) I slid, and the blue arrow shows
how far my bike slid, eventually ending up in the grass.

An email went out to our team before the event warning of the road conditions down Naismith Drive and on to Sunnyside Avenue: high heat, steep grades, and sitting cars have contributed to large divots and potholes on the road -- especially at the stop sign intersection of Naismith Drive and 15th Street. I had since been told -- by paramedics, teammates and others -- that, riding down the steep Naismith Drive descent, my front tires caught a deep divot approaching the 15th Street Intersection and hopped the nose of my bike up. Upon landing, my front tired hit another deep divot and, given the downward angle of my bike already, flipped my bike end-over-end, taking me with it. Given the speed (my speedometer later would show me I had approached speeds of over 50kmph), I landed, head-first, about 25 yards ahead, and slid against the blacktop an additional 50 yards. My bike continued on without me, sliding almost 200 yards away down towards where Sunnyside Avenue meets Naismith, near Allen Fieldhouse. I eventually stopped sliding right in front of a group of course stewards, who immediately called for the ambulance.

The right lobe of the brain, with the concussion's "epicenter"
indicated by the red outline, as evidenced by the damage
done to the bicycle helmet.

One teammate saw the whole incident from a short distance behind me, and also stopped to my aid. According to him, he'd ask me all the stereotypical bonk-on-the-head test questions, two which I failed miserably, continuously asking what happened, where my bike was, and if I'd finished the race. Before the ambulance arrived, I passed out. I was rushed to the emergency room at Lawrence Memorial Hospital.

Friends and family were in Lawrence that day to watch me race. Luckily, I was wearing a RoadID (seriously, even if you DON'T really run or bike, go get one...it may save you), so their contact information (as well as my medical conditions and medication allergies) were all listed. Paramedics were able to get in contact with them quickly, and all were able to come visit me upon early arriving at the ER. According to family, early signs were scary: I'd kept asking where I was, what was going on, and what had happened nearly every minute.

Above: The damaged helmet from the inside of the right
side, a large chunk of the protective foam missing, and
the outer farm of the helmet displaced. Below: The point of
impact. The black smudges on the outside of the helmet's
shell are blacktop tar picked up from the impact.

ER physicians explained that I'd suffered a severe concussion. The concussion was centered around the junction between my right temporal-parietal junction and frontal lobe (essentially, where the three meet). After multiple full-body scans, including MRI's and CT's, I had no broken bones. It was believed I had lost consciousness on impact, rendering my body completely limp, which helped "cushion the blow." Though I was conscious briefly after impact, I lost consciousness again for several minutes, which in terms of head injuries, is a bit on the scary side. I had multiple severe abrasions, particularly to my upper left thigh, left buttock, right underarm, left elbow and forearm, right face, and right shoulder (which was almost completely to the bone). I also had sustained some minor joint damage to my right shoulder, but again, no breaks or obvious tears. Physicians also explained that, had I not been wearing a helmet -- for whatever reason -- I would not have survived the incident.

Even after-the-fact, some of the stories I head still affect me: namely, my mom in tears, and my niece Sophia too frightened to look at me. Although, on the positive side, I had kept asking to be tested for artistic ability and facial recognition to assure there would be no permanent damage (for the most part, the right temporal/parietal lobes include functions such as the ability to identify emotionally-significant faces in addition to many major functions in artistic ability). Further, I'd noted to my parents that, of all the places to hit, I had hit my head in the "least-dangerous," further pointing out that, in my first semester of Graduate School, our Cognitive Psychology class was told by the professor that, if you had to get hit in the head by a baseball bat, and only had a split second to choose on which part of the head to get hit, it should be the right temporal lobe. It also would be a question on the final exam for the class that semester.

Hospital-bound.

The aftermath. Jersey torn in multiple spots, and cut
down the sides courtesy of paramedics. Bib shorts
near-disintegrated. Bib numbers torn off. Shoes
spotted with blood.

Eventually, within hours, I was able to gain some bit of solid consciousness and non-repetitiveness. The fact that I was displaying humor was also a good sign (see above). I was transferred to the University of Kansas hospital once stability was assured. My earliest memory after the incident (as isolated as it may be) was one very brief moment in the ambulance ride to KUMC -- the paramedic securing me down as we approached the hospital, and noting "it's bumpy...so you can tell we're in Kansas City." Beyond that, I remember nothing until late evening, and even then only a shade of the night.

I am not huge on name-dropping specific people, though the one thing I truly feel helped pull me back out of the fog was Rachel. From the moment of impact, though the moment I discharged from the hospital, Rachel was there -- spending the night in what I could only imagine to be
the most uncomfortable hospital-grade "recliner" around. For that, I am eternally grateful, and despite my lack of memory, will never forget.

The day after I had time to piece together what I could (or rather, couldn't) of the accident. Visits by team members helped attach some story to the entire day I'd lost. Physicians passed down second- and third-hand information while I was tested, poked and prodded. Family members helped fill in the gaps post-wreck.

To the day, I still don't remember the night before the wreck, the morning of the wreck, and several hours after. At this point, I never will. I have bits a pieces of memories for the following days, and a bit more over the following weeks, but even then are fragile strings that are easily-forgotten, and require aide in recalling. If forced to estimate, I did not fully recover a solid long-term memory until a month later, although even now, as I write this a year later (currently late-May, 2014), I feel extra effort is required to remember smaller things long-term, and strain is necessary to focus my attention for extended periods of time.

On a deeper level, I have suffered emotionally from the anxious aftermath. There has not been a single moment saddling on a bicycle, readying for a ride, where my gut doesn't send me a quick reminder that what I am about to do is dangerous. Call it a memory-laiden anxiety, called it trauma -- I still struggle with worry about the "what-if." Until as early as two months ago (March, 2014), I had completely sworn off ever competing in mass-start bicycle races -- particularly criteriums -- even though my wreck had nothing to do with the push-and-shove competitive nature of such events. Despite my reservation, I have committed to my first criterium since "The Wreck" in one month's time, at the Tour of Kansas City. And I am terrified. Terrified...but grateful to have the ability to worry about such things still. I am forever changed, for better or worse.

Saving the Remainder of 2013: Fast Runs, First Duathlons and Future Plans

To supplement my training while I healed in the following months, I took to the trails. First I walked, then hiked. The goal was to keep my blood pressure low and prevent swelling. At first, I couldn't walk for longer that 5 minutes continuous without suffering a searing headache. Eventually, by the middle of July, I was able to trail run 2-1/2 miles. Finally, one week before Rock the Crossroads (a 5k run through KC's Crossroads Arts District that I'd previously registered for), I ran my first 5k distance since before the accident. Slowly albeit, I was ready to take to the streets again. July 27th I ran Rock the Crossroads and finished on 7:29 pace, a full minute on-the-mile pace faster than I'd planned and expected. I was back.

All was headed in the right direction, but cycling again loomed on the horizon: two weeks later I had an already-committed-to duathlon -- my very first solo duathlon. I had to get back on to my bike, and quick. And not only that, I had to run before AND after it. I swore to park roads only, avoiding the possibility of a run-in with open traffic. My first miles were heart-pounding, particularly on the steep declines of Shawnee Mission Lake's surrounding hills. I'd suffer through the panic time-and-time again, anxiously awaiting the moment where I could hop off the bike and continue safely on-foot. Eventually, once I got going on the bike, things started to fall back to natural -- but I would always have a gremlin housed in the back of my brain, constantly yelling that I was going to hit a rough patch of road, replaying film of what my accident probably looked like. I had explained to those that inquired: the hardest part was that I didn't have any ACTUAL memories to loop through in my mind. If I'd at least had some first-hand detail of what happened, at least then I could make sense of it and move on.

Heading out on run leg
#1 of the Midwest
Meltdown Duathlon.

Cycling in to T2 at the Midwest Meltdown Duathlon.

Duathlon day came around: the Jackson County Duathlon at Longview Lake in Lee's Summit, Missouri. Followed quickly the next week by the Midwest Meltdown Duathlon in Paola, Kansas. The gremlin followed, but I conquered. I took 3rd in-category and 6th overall at the Jackson County Du, and 2nd in-category and 2nd overall at the Midwest Meltdown Duathlon, and fell in love with multisport in the process. I was forever-changed by my successes. Although I'd never slay the gremlin, I'd at least shut him up.

Suffering through the cold (and pain) of
my first half-marathon.

Despite the Hy-Vee Triathlon (co-ed relay) in the following weeks (I'll be writing about that as it approaches THIS year, in 2014), cycling season was over for me. I was forced to miss the Danisco Prairie Punisher Duathlon just after my accident, and for the first time in four years (placing 1st in-division for the last three). I was also forced out of the Sunflower State Games in topeka. I decided against a late-season time trial back in Lawrence (I'd sworn against ever racing in Lawrence again). My focus switched to running: namely, my first half-marathon: The Kansas City Half-Marathon.

Saying Goodbye to 2013

As I've written before, 2013 came with it a lot of turning points -- many of which I haven't even written on in here. Looking back, 2013 was frightening, yes, but a considerable success story in my eyes. The challenges I'd faced I had all overcome, and went on to achieving large goals despite. Beyond my initial -- and highly successful -- forays in to the world of multisport, I had also achieved my first half-marathon in October of that year (I will write about the KC Half-Marathon when I complete it again this year, again in October), followed closely by a podium-finish in a 15k run (that's 9.35 miles). I ended the season with a nasty right knee (patellofemoral pain syndrome), which I also overcame heading in to 2014. My aim ending the year was to once again come across a season of firsts, including my return to cycling, my early string of consecutive half-marathons, and my very first triathlon. Despite reluctance coming out of 2013, I was fully motivated heading in to 2014.

My 2013 Running Race Resume...

• 3/16/2013, KC Big12 5k, Kansas City, Missouri; 3.12mi @ 24:41 (7:55); Finished 44th of 110 in age-group, 239th of 1352 overall.
• 3/30/2013, The Easter Egg 5k, Overland Park, Kansas; 3.19mi @ 25:18 (7:56); Finished 9th of 86 in age-group, 60th of 614 overall.
• 4/6/2013, Great Balls of Fire 5k for Testicular Cancer, Overland Park, Kansas; 3.08mi @ 23:00 (7:28); Finished 5th of 20 in age-group, 24th of 180 overall.
• 4/13/2013, Rock the Parkway 5k, Kansas City, Missouri; 3.21mi @ 24:35 (7:40); Finished 24th of 108 in age-group.
• 4/28/2013, Drake Relays Hy-Vee Road Races 10k, Des Moines, Iowa; 6.44mi @ 52:06 (8:05) (PR); Finished 26th of 62 in age-group.
• 5/11/2013, Running with the Cows 5k, Bucyrus, Kansas; 3.17mi @ 23:04 (7:17) (YR); Finished 1st of 11 in age-group, 32nd of 392 overall.
• 6/1/2013, Hospital Hill 10k, Kansas City, Missouri; 6.21mi @ 49:30 (7:58) (PR); Finished 9th of 67 in age-group, 89th of 1733 overall.
• 6/8/2013, Jazz in the Woods 10k, Overland Park, Kansas; 6.47mi @ 49:17 (7:37) (PR); Finished 6th of 11 in age-group, 22nd of 207 overall.
• 6/22/2013, Putting the Boots to ALS 5k, Kansas City, Missouri; 3.16mi @ 23:44 (7:31); Finished 5th of 11 in age-group, 31st of 245 overall.
• 7/27/2013, Rock the Crossroads 5k, Kansas City, Missouri; 3.21mi @ 24:03 (7:29); 10th of 58 in age-group, 117th of 1097 overall.
• 8/17/2013, Rivalry Run 5k, Kansas City, Missouri; 3.16mi @ 23:07 (7:19); 8th of 36 in age-group, 43rd of 620 overall.
• 9/8/2013, Broadway Bridge 10k, Kansas City, Missouri; 6.30mi @ 47:49 (7:35) (PR); Finished 2nd of 10 in age-group, 11th of 289 overall.
• 9/15/2013, Plaza 10k, Kansas City, Missouri; 6.26mi @ 46:14 (7:23) (PR); Finished 37th of 171 in age-group, 197th overall.
• 9/22/2013, Blazin' the Burg 5k, Louisburg, Kansas; 3.12mi @ 21:45 (6:58) (PR); Finished 2nd of 9 in age-group, 11th of 264 overall.
• 10/5/2013, KC Zoo 4-mile Run for the Penguins, Kansas City, Missouri; 4.00mi @ 28:13 (7:03); 8th of 90 in age-group, 52nd of 1931 overall.
• 10/12/2013, Mustache Dash 5k, Leawood, Kansas; 3.18mi @ 21:24 (6:44) (PR); 5th of 53 in age-group, 23rd of 861 overall.
• 10/19/2013, Wadell & Reed Kansas City Half-Marathon, Kansas City, Missouri; 13.39mi @ 1:56:32 (8:42) (PR); 160th of 332 in age-group, 1405th of 5881 overall.
• 10/26/2013, Monster Dash 5k, Kansas City, Missouri; 3.21mi @ 20:54 (6:31) (PR); 3rd of 33 in age-group, 16th of 841 overall.
• 11/3/2013, Cliff Hanger 8k, Kansas City, Missouri; 5.08mi @ 35:29 (6:59) (PR); 7th of 22 in age-group, 37th of 394 overall.
• 11/9/2013, KC 15k, Kansas City, Kansas; 9.35mi @ 1:11:55 (7:41) (PR); 3rd of 10 in age-group, 44th of 324 overall.
• 12/8/2013, The Great Santa Run 5k, Overland Park, Kansas; 3.19mi @ 23:52 (7:29); 3rd of 33 in age-group, 37th of 1014 overall

My 2013 Cycling Race Resume...

• 6/23/2013, Tour of KC Downtown Criterium, Lee's Summit, Missouri; Cat. 5 Crit Division; 13.83mi @ 32:58 (25.2mph); Finished 26th of 44.
• 6/28/2013, Tour of Lawrence Laird Noller Street Sprints, Lawrence, Kansas; Open Men's Division; Out in 1st heat.
• 6/29/2013, Tour of Lawrence Campus Circuit Race, Lawrence, Kansas; Cat. 5 Division; DNS
• 9/1/2013, Hy-Vee Triathlon, Des Moines, Iowa; Co-Ed Relay Division (Bike Leg); 24.54mi @ 1:09:36 (21.2mph); no placing (swim leg DNF'd).

My 2013 Multisport Race Resume...

• 8/18/2013, Jackson County Duathlon, Longview Lake, Missouri; 1.4mi Run #1 @ 11:11 (7:59), T1=1:27, 11.75mi Bike @ 34:47 (20.3mph), T2=1:26, 3.1mi Run #2 @ 25:45 (8:19); 1:14:36 overall time; Finished 3rd in gender-group, 6th overall.
• 8/25/2013, Midwest Meltdown Duathlon, Miola Lake, Paola, Kansas; 1mi Run #1 @ 7:24, T1=0:45, 10.42mi Bike @ 28:13, T2=0:37, 3.12mi Run #2 @ 24:16 (7:47); 1:01:15 overall time; Finished 2nd in gender group, 2nd overall.