Hi guys. Happy Friday! Well, I managed to get to sleep before sunrise, but then I didn't wake up until after the sun went down! Crud! What's that all about?! Maybe all those hours on the couch wore me out! Actually, I think it's probably the stress of not feeling well enough to ride my bike! I think it's called hypobikeism!
All jokes aside, as optimistic as I am, there's a lot of uncertainty and fear that just goes with the illness inexplicably elevating to a level that knocked me off the bike for most of the last two months. Even with my faith and happy camper attitude, there's still that churning inside that suggests maybe riding the bike is no longer going to be a regular activity for me...that maybe none of the doctors will be able to figure it out and that this is just the way it's going to be...
Well, I've been here before... In 1998, after being sidelined for almost 2 years, I discovered that I had severe sleep apnea. After a few weeks of using a CPAP machine, I was back on the bike and in May of 1999, completed a 100-mile bike ride.
In 2001, I felt like I was dying, despite my doctor mistakenly insisting it was depression. I eventually find out it was complete pituitary failure and that I indeed was in serious danger. After a few months on full hormone replacement therapy, I was at least able to ride my bike around the neighborhood...
In 2004, at my heaviest weight ever - 330lbs - I was no longer able to ride the bike and was as sick as I'd ever been. My doctor had no explanation and said that he was sorry, but that this was just the way it's going to be... After experimentation with my hormone meds, I managed to improve enough to drop over a 100lbs in 2005 and was back to doing long rides on the bike, although the illness sidelined me by the end of the year.
In 2006, a new specialist stunningly theorized that my pituitary gland could possibly be restarted. This began a rough 3-year process of repeatedly trying to jump start my pituitary gland by gradual withdrawal of my cortisol med. It put me through a lot of hell and it seemed like it just wasn't going to work, but in 2008, my pituitary gland fired up - after being dead for 8 years...
But in the spring of 2009, I was sicker than I'd been in years, even with a functioning pituitary gland. I was crushed because I had such big dreams for a new life... By the summer though, "Dr. Jim" suspected I had Celiac - the gluten disorder - and then medical tests confirmed it. That led to the big comebacks of 2009 and 2010 - where I was able to complete my first 100-mile bike ride since 1999.
2011 and 2012 were a bit of a shocker, with most of my riding being on the couch! What the hell happened?! I eventually determined that my underlying issue was an autoimmune condition - where the immune system attacks the body - and that triggers sick as gluten and pollens were bigger factors than I realized. I'd already been on a gluten-free diet but then I started an aggressive allergy shot therapy regimen. That led to my big comeback of 2013, dropping over 90lbs and competing in two time-trial races. Shazam! Now we're talking!
However, I was still quite sick in 2013 and despite the improvement, suspected that something big was still being missed. So having such a rough year in 2014 wasn't that much of a surprise. Granted, being so sick the last couple of months has rattled me a bit, but all I can say is "I've been here before..." I don't know what the future holds, but I do know this... I never threw in the towel before and I'm not doing this time. So many times the world hammered me with logic and insisted I was being unrealistic, that the odds were overwhelmingly against my dream of getting back on the bike...
But as well-intentioned as all of that advice was, they were all wrong. I not only got back on the bike after each supposedly insurmountable medical obstacle, but I rode the bike like a madman. And once again it seems like returning to the bike in any serious manner is against all odds. But I'll be damned if I'll listen to that voice that's trying to tell me that I've lost this fight... that's trying to get me to settle for just being a spectator. At 60, I'm sure that sounds reasonable, but I just don't believe it's time to hang up the gloves. The fighter in me is as alive as ever and I'm determined to get back in the ring. And I'm not looking to just make a token appearance - hanging on the ropes and hoping to get in a punch or two. I'm in it for the win.
I know the odds are against me, but I don't believe God brought me through all of this to just go out with a fizzle. My body is struggling, but my mind, heart and soul are ready to rumble. So ladies and gentleman place your bets... the fight begins now... :)