As You Get Older Your Body Becomes Weaker But Your Life Is Richer

“The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

by Robert Frost, From PoemHunter.com

Hi folks,

I don’t know if you have ever ridden a bike at 45 mph. It’s fast and you had better stay on your toes mentally, because you really do not want to wreck at that speed. Well, there I was in my sixth Lake Placid Ironman, an experienced old age-grouper (69), coming down the long hill (about 8.5 miles) towards the village of Keene, on the second 56-mile loop of the bike course, but I was falling asleep. I just could not shake the feeling that I needed to go to sleep. My eyelids were drooping and I was having trouble taking the ride seriously, and I came really close to doing just that, sleeping. A little voice in my head said, “Kevin, sleep and this hill are not a good combination!” So I slowed down, shook myself, and took the sharp turn at the base of the hill and settled in to hold a steady pace on the level for about 15 miles towards the village of Upper Jay. But I was still very drowsy, and I couldn’t shake it.

In a book about the history of the town of Lake Placid in a coffee shop, FitOldDog found that the poet, Robert Frost, had visited the place many years ago,

After a few more miles I came across a rest stop, where people were dealing with riders who had abandoned the race. At that point, apparently, the temperature in this part of the course was in the 90s combined with high humidity. Then I noticed that I wasn’t sweating! Bad sign! I suspected heat exhaustion or even the more dangerous heat stroke. I spoke to the volunteers at the stop, and the guy in charge said, “Please sit down sir, what you are saying doesn’t make any sense.” (another bad sign). I remember thinking that my friend Rory would say, “Nothing he says ever makes any sense.” Within a few minutes of sitting on a chair, putting blocks of ice on my head, I knew it was over. I had succumbed to the heat, and there was nothing I could do about it, and to go on would be just plain unwise. One year’s training and my first DNF (Did Not Finish).

This is where I started my journey to the Lake Placid Ironman, about 20 years ago, waiting for my son Nigel to finish, leaning on that railing. I thought – boy, I’d like to do that, and I did.

Did I make the right decision? I sure did. Discretion is the better part of valor in this situation – live to race another day. I clearly have trouble with heat, and it has become worse as I get older. In fact, of the four people sitting there waiting for a ride back, two were over 60, myself and a 62-year old guy, and he was pissed, red in the face and clearly overheated. A very small proportion of the 3000 athletes are over 60, and here were 2/4 with heat stress. It’s a bummer, I know, but age played a role. But with age came the wisdom to stop, and take the ‘road less traveled’; getting off of the road.

What other factors could have played a role? I was well hydrated (in fact I had to stop and pee just before this rest stop), my nutrition was spot on, but my stomach was upset for the whole race, even the swim, and had been not quite right for several days. Furthermore, my right calf was still tight, and might not have fared well in the run, which would not have been good for the New York City Marathon in November. It was probably a series of things that brought me down, but I made the right decision, I knew it, as a result of which my mood stayed upbeat. Those are the breaks in the Ironman, but I’m all signed up for next year!

Take it in your stride, learn from it, and you’ll handle your first DNF OK. It’s bound to happen eventually. The bottom line: Suck It Up, Ironman!

Now I think of all the other positive things that came out of this race. My son, Nigel, who also had trouble with the heat, but finished, was there with his three kids, with whom I had a great time. My support team came up and had a blast. I met some wonderful people, including the regulars, such as my hotel neighbor, Stephanie (completed the race and beat my swim time – damn), and Frits (with an ‘S,’ great guy, 67, who dropped out at 5 miles into the run). I enjoyed most of the beautiful Lake Placid Ironman bike course. Finally, great food and good company.

Was this safe exercise for better health in a post abdominal aortic surgery case? Absolutely, but only because I listened to Dirty Harry. I recognized my limitations in time to prevent serious injury.

-k @FitOldDog