Listen to your Body

If you're reading, this probably means you have come back after reading my first blog, so thank you! 

To pick up where we left off, it's late 2020, and I'm genuinely ecstatic that I have committed to one of my bucket list aims in life, signing up for my first full distance Ironman. For those unfamiliar with what that means, it is a swim followed by a bike ride followed by a run. The concerning part is the swim is 2.4 miles (3.8 km), followed by the bike ride is 112 miles (180 km), and to finish off the event is a marathon of 26.2 miles (42.2 km). So, just a leisurely day in the office totalling 140.6 miles (226.2 km).

I'm thrilled with this new challenge in my sights, and as I reach for that third green can of cloudy cider, I feel I need to share this great news. Of course, the first person I reach out to is my old training partner Richard Bradshaw. Rich is a great friend and a fantastic training buddy. He is a no-nonsense athlete who trains hard, but he is a thoughtful athlete above all else. This is why I really like training with him. He is meticulous with his training regime and super considerate of the people he trains with. Rich and I would become the Mortimer and Whitehouse of triathlon. He was over the moon that I had signed up and suggested he send over a training plan. 

Now, if you're reading this and thinking "I could give this a go", be prepared for some lunatic (in my case Rich) to offer to send you a training plan. I unwittingly took this offer up and were opened the spreadsheet with excitement and enthusiasm. Giving the training plan a cursory look over, I thought to myself:

"Has some crack pipe smoking Ironman enthusiast put this together?"

It's talking about training 15 to 20 hours a week. Don't tell the boss, but I hardly do that at work. To my amazement, about two months into the training puff, the magic smoking Ironman who had written the plan is started to make some sense.

In closing the Ironman section of this blog, I want to come back to being a thoughtful athlete. Before finishing off the obligatory fourth can of Friday night cloudy cider, I worked out if I had the energy resources to complete an Ironman event. 

It is suggested that you burn roughly 7300 cal when competing in an Ironman. Fully loaded on the day I would have 2500 cal readily available at the start. During the event, if I fuel up, the body would generate roughly 360 carbs per hour. If it takes 17 hours to complete the event, that's 6120 cals. Add that to my 2500 cals totals 8320 cals, and-

Shit, I have the energy storage and cals regeneration to do this, never mind having to tap into my 25% fat!! Another box ticked. 

-

Fast forward to 2021. I have made it back from Lincoln and vaguely described to Kell that I wasn't feeling very well on the Friday, but I did have a master plan. I was due to see my GP on Monday. In fact, I did consider it was the reason I was going to the GP on Monday that had caused my heart to be somewhat excited. That being,  I had an appointment with Doctor Jumbo-hotdog-fingers Singh who was planning on examining my prostate. 

How better to get out of this predicament by suggesting I had issues with my heart?

Again my emotions were running high on the morning of the GPs appointment, and I saw Dr. Ward, who I'm grateful to, for taking the time to listen and then carry out the appropriate tests. It was then somewhat of a surprise when he suggested I should visit that NHS hotel the paramedics suggested three days before. My reaction was, of course, I will. Where do you want me to report to? and what time do you need me to be there? Unfortunately, my anxiety heightened again when he informed me that he had ordered one of those lovely campervans with the blue lights on top.

The hospital tests led me to have an outpatients appointment with a cardiologist, who can only be described as one of the most attentive, caring, professional and humble medical professionals you would ever wish to meet, Dr Sandeep Hothi. 

When meeting Sandeep, he carried out a number of tests, listened to my heart, and reassured me that everything seemed in order. He suggested some further tests, like a true professional, including an echocardiogram, CT scan and MRI. I left that appointment feeling upbeat and started some light training.

 I attended the echocardiograph on Monday, thinking “ I’ll breeze through this, and we will be on the bike in the afternoon”. As he carried out the examination, I asked if I would get the results immediately, and he answered that I would. 

Assessment over, and the doctor informs me that my heart is strong and does no evidence of a historic heart attack. I'm buzzing can't wait to go home to tell the family. He then looks at me and says, however, you have a leaking aortic valve.

At this point, my head started to spin, and I asked what it all meant. I know what a leaky valve on my washing machine does, it makes a mess of my kitchen floor, but I have no idea what a leaking heart valve does to my body. I have a mental picture of filling up with blood from my toes upwards every time my heart takes a beat. Dr Hothi took the time to explain that the blood leaks back into the heart, which in one sense was a relief. 

Looking into the doctors' eyes, I knew that I would have to look out the big boys' pants, pull them up, and get ready for a rollercoaster ride. Inevitably, with any diagnosis, you feel sorry for yourself and ask, “why me?”. 

However, you quickly reflect on how fortunate you are in life and how others are much less fortunate than you! 

My advice to anyone is to always listen to your body, and seek medical advice if you hear something that doesn't sound right.