The returning runner

Act 18 – Why do I really suck sometimes??

It was October 28, 2017 -  I had been fighting some sort of odd bug but my son’s family had a corn maze outing planned. Who can pass up granddaughter time? I figured I could power through. Got through the corn maze ok and was ready to call that a win. But, then the group had a great idea of doing the Zombie hayride too. That sounded like great fun. Only, I had a problem…standing in line I was fighting passing out. So, I did the most prudent thing I could think of. I tried to cover it up. I had to put my head down to retain consciousness, so I just began feigning hamstring stretches. My daughter-in-law was the first to catch on, exclaiming “is your dad ok?”! I wasn’t, and by that point, quite ready to admit it. As the rest of the group scrambled to get loaded in the car, my son helped me over to a pile of pumpkins. Well, initially pumpkins, then an orange blob, then a black tunnel steadily decreasing in size, then no tunnel. An advantage of losing consciousness is that a pile of pumpkins can feel quite comfortable. Almost like floating. I could hear my son’s voice. He was helping me to the car. We were going to the ER.

Twenty days earlier (October 8) -  I waited in eager anticipation for the start of the Healdsburg ½ marathon. I had won my division in the preceding two events in the series with 7 minute/mile efforts. Healdsburg was hillier, but I had the benefit of the extra conditioning from the previous two events. And, training had been going well except I had noticed that I seemed to be breathing unusually hard on uphills. Couldn’t really figure that – otherwise I felt good. One mile in, things were clearly not going right. I was fighting to run 7:30 per mile on a gently rolling stretch. I dug in. It didn’t work. I battled the whole way and finished at 8:15/mile pace. A minute slower per mile than the previous year. I had no idea what had happened. I just didn’t have it.

Eleven days earlier (October 17) - We made a jaunty trio as we headed into the Humboldt Wilderness. Our planned backpack to Eagle Cap had been derailed due to weather. The forecast for the more local Humboldt area seemed better, so we were giving it a shot. Experienced backpacking buddy Ron Randall and son-in-law doc Tyler Stratten rounded out the group. With my superior cardio background, I strode boldly into rapidly worsening weather conditions. We made an unplanned and hasty camp in the midst of a snowstorm. It was colder than predicated too – in the teens. By morning, we had made a decision to enjoy the comforts of a nice bed and get the heck out of there. Only one problem – I was faint and couldn’t shake it. Ty pushed me to down more fluids. After a bit, a switch was flipped and I felt better, cruising without problem back to the trailhead.

The ten day period leading up to October 28 (October 18-28) – My condition was steadily worsening. I had developed what felt like a “frothy” cough. I had been doing a lot of post-fire field work. Maybe the fine ash was messing with my lungs. The urgent care doc prescribed steroids.  The cough worsened, I had a low grade fever, and I developed pain in my lower right side. The next urgent care doc prescribed painkillers for a kidney stone and antibiotics for infection in my lungs. They thought my resting pulse of 85 was pretty normal (mine is typically in the mid-40s).  The morning of October 27, I saw the company’s Workman’s Comp doctor. He asserted quite confidently that I had COPD (normally related to smoking). This made no sense at all, but I was too tired to argue. I went home to sit, completely wiped out, with a fever and a fair amount of pain.

Back to October 28 – On the way to the ER, a switch was flipped and I felt somewhat better. I could see and was prepared to share my woes with the ER doc. She was almost giddy when she pranced back into the room after a round of tests. I had Pulmonary Embolisms (PEs). “Embolisms?”, I asked – how many? Her tight-lipped response of “several” gave me a clue that the number was on the high side of several (later the pulmonologist walked me through the scan, methodically pointing out nearly 20 in each lung). I asked the nurses how many days I would be in the hospital for. “Days? 2-3 weeks probably and possibly 6”.  I did what every dumb runner does. I talked my way out after a day. There was some sort of a deal – if my blood O2 was above 90-something throughout completing a lap around the floor they would release me. I called upon a depth of cardio reserves and managed it. That was very, very dumb. For the next 3 weeks, I battled chest pains, shortness of breath, racing and irregular heartbeat and ended up needing a round of treatment with the cardiologist. The cause of my PEs – snake gaiters worn too tight around my calves. Eventually resolved by blood thinners.

So, the obvious conclusion from my experience is that you should go to the ER after any off day? Absolutely not!! Running is a long game. You will have off days. Sometimes the cause is decipherable and sometimes not so apparent. Illusive causes might be just that your biorhythms are out of sync, maybe a cold that hasn’t quite hit yet, and even repeated odd movements that don’t really register at the time but the next day can make you feel sore in unusual spots. If you are having one of those really off days, I suggest adjusting your plans – it’s not the day to go big with speed work. If you are in-progress with a workout and it becomes obvious that things aren’t going well, it might be a good time to walk. I find that walking tends to have a healing effect if you are just achy in a few spots. When things are really wrong (as they were with me), get the right professional help and don’t fight it – you need to live to run another day!!

Photo: Humboldt Wilderness hiking buddies Ron Randall and Tyler Stratten