The Committee in My Head Sings a Three Part Harmony

Life this past year, since my unanticipated and nearly life ending heart attack August 17, 2009, has been interesting on so many levels. Such life changing moments cause one to reflect on how the simple things in life mean so much, why sunrises hold such promise for the day you've been given, and how the embrace of family and friends can never be taken for granted.

It's been a struggle all year trying to stay fit, frustrating in fact. Two months in cardiac rehab hooked up to heart monitoring kept me safely in the game and aerobically fit. My four cardiac nurses (two pictured here) taught me how to self-monitor my heart functioning so I could continue my cycling while taking the required heart medications. The purpose of the meds was to ensure that the heart had time to heal by both slowing the heart rate and lowering the blood pressure. As an endurance cyclist I already had a pre-MI resting heart rate of 46 bpm and low blood pressure to boot, like 110/78. The heart meds dropped my BP sometimes below 100/60 which made me dizzy. And, I felt fatigued most of the time. I was back on the bike during rehab, but had a restriction on how hard I could exercise my heart. I've always worn a HR monitor while cycling to gauge work output, but now I was employing it as a type of governor to keep my heart rate below 140bpm. Forcing my heart to work harder would have caused it to undergo structural remodeling to meet the work demand placed on it and essentially weakening the heart muscle as it became larger over time. Well after a year of riding under restrictions, I have been taken off the heart meds and permitted to go back to my normal intensity during workouts. It's only been 10 days off the meds, and I feel the difference already. 

Last Sunday I decided to take a mountain bike ride along the East Ridge in Butte, Montana toward Homestake Pass and attempted to do a loop which required about 1400 feet of climbing along the Continental Divide. It was a glorious bluebird day, with plenty of cloudless Montana sky and mild temps in the 50s.

I traversed the ridge line to the southeast steadily climbing to the Continental Divide.

Couldn't help but stop for a photo op on the Divide.

After I made it to the top of Homestake Pass I descended along a connector trail to Blacktail Creek.

From there it was a straight shot back into Butte. It wasn't a particularly long or technical ride, roughly 17 miles with 1400 feet of climbing. But, it served as an affirmation that there is a new beginning for me. I felt stronger than I had just 10 days earlier, and I wasn't having to stop to keep my heart rate down. As a matter of fact my average HR stayed in the 130 range the entire ride. I felt exhilarated!

I'm still going to be cautious. It's only prudent since I had a heart attack a year ago, but now the governor is off. The committee in my head was singing a three part harmony because mind, body, and spirit came together on that day. An epic day for me! One that will remain forever in my mind as a triumph over frustration and uncertainty. The zen across the top tube continues. The next chapter awaits-

It's Not Over Until It's Over The Top Tube

At 6:05 PM tonight, August 17, 2010 I marked the one year anniversary of my moderate heart attack while working at the bike shop in Butte, Montana last summer. It was a life changing event on so many levels.

How did I mark the occasion tonight? I had a Coors Light with a couple of cycling buddies- two cute podium yellow jersey bears from last year's Tour of California given to my granddaughters by my good friend, periodic cycling buddy, and owner of the Outdoorsman, Rob Leipheimer. I'm Rob's shop mechanic during the summers. I come to Butte to spend time with my daughter's family, to spoil my beautiful granddaughters, and to escape the awful heat of the Mojave Desert in Las Vegas, NV where I live the other eight months of the year near my son's family. It's my good fortune that I came to Butte last summer, had my heart attack, and was emergency airlifted to be treated at the world class International Heart Institute of Montana in Missoula. Had I been in Las Vegas I'm not sure what the outcome would have been, as I have little faith in the medical community there after several experiences I know others have had.

Life across the top tube has been a literal life saver for me. I've been told this by several of my doctors as well. And, I find endless solace in spinning down uncharted road or trail, which is metaphorically just how I live life everyday. The unknown has never scared me. After two near death experiences in the last two years, death doesn't scare me. What scares me is living a life void of adventure, calculated uncertainty, or a certain amount of risk. A life lived well is a life fulfilled on the physical, emotional, and spiritual levels. I'm a doer, not a watcher. Riding bicycles, working on bicycles, the fellowship of the open road, all give me a sense of purpose in my retirement from my professional life. Just as my family does. The committee in my head is well satisfied with the outcome and so am I.

How do I feel about today's anniversary... surviving yet another near life ending experience....like a free bird!

My latest cycling video says it all for me. Take a look....life across the top tube is an adventure!

Riding the Homestake Continental Divide Trail from Rick Smith on Vimeo.

Livestrong and ride long my friends......I intend to!

Time to Gear Up and to Gear Down

It's been 360 days since my moderate life changing heart attack last August 17, 2010. The event was triggered by a couple of blood clots in my left anterior descending branch of the main coronary artery. They call this type of heart attack the "widow making" because in over 50% of the cases the victim dies. Well, I bet the odds even by Las Vegas standards, which is where I live most of the year.

Anyway, I had my anniversary medical exam today and got a clean bill of health from my cardiologist, Dr. Tod Maddux, at the International Heart Institute of Montana. He said my heart sounded strong and he took me off the three heart medications I've been taking for the last year. So, life on the road as an endurance cyclist can resume in earnest. I'm so pumped I feel I want to enter the RAAM or the Tour Divide for 2011. Just kidding, but I feel that for the last year I've had a governor on my heart and my psyche. Which I did! Dr. M gave me the freedom to ramp up the heart rate during cycling in order to get the engine back into its prime condition. What this means is that I have no restrictions if I wanted to do a RAAM or a Tour Divide. At my age, it means the freedom to seek endurance challenges across the top tube that give my life a richer deeper meaning. I'm not a racer. I never have been. But I do love to ride my bike for long periods of time without any but self-imposed restrictions.  We'll see how it goes as I gradually work my way back into my pre-heart attack form. I know my limitations and moderation speaks volumes to me. I'm just happy that my life across the top tube will continue into my golden years. I'm planning to help a friend from Texas ride from Texas to Alaska in two years, now maybe I'll just change roles and become his riding partner rather than just his mechanical support.

I live to ride another day which is so dear to my soul!

Can We as Cyclists Find Zen on the Open Road?

Even as a trained clinical psychologist and a avid cyclist myself, I'm at a continual loss trying to understand why some motorists behave so aggressively toward their fellow human beings simply because they choose to be astride two wheels in the same time and space.

Recently, one of my Butte, Montana cyclist friends was seriously injured by a hit and run driver during an early morning ride. She had just crossed a two lane bridge with no oncoming traffic, with safety lights a blaze, wearing a reflective vest, and riding as close to the right as she safely could to negotiate a raised curb. She was doing more than everything right! The last thing she remembers before being struck by the truck's right passenger mirror was the sickening sound of the vehicle's diesel engine spooling up intentionally as the truck accelerated toward her. That right side mirror hit her square in her back and was torn from the truck. The driver never stopped and left her in the roadway to die. Fortunately, she did not die. She was knocked unconscious for a time, but instinctively regained her awareness enough to recover the mirror and ride back toward her home. She never made it home, but managed to call for help on her cell phone before shock set in.

She ended up in the emergency room with a severe shoulder injury, several broken ribs, and a collapsed lung. It was a miracle she wasn't killed. It took her almost two weeks before she was well enough to be released. She'll never be the same physically or emotionally, and still has some painful physical therapy to endure in order to work through her recovery. This was her second time to be hit by a car while riding her bicycle. And, in both cases she was obeying all traffic laws and doing what she should have to be safe. 

Just yesterday, one of my closest training buddies back in Texas was injured in a crash caused by a motorist cutting her off to make a right turn. It left her bruised, with a deep gash on her elbow, shredded her riding kit, and destroyed her drive train and shifters. In her case, the motorist was located by the police and issued a ticket for failure to yield. And, his insurance company is now responsible for her medical expenses and replacement of her damaged cycling attire and bike.

Yes, what happened to my friends was senseless, inexplicable in the context of human social interaction, unforgivable, and potentially life changing. But, the fact remains that the specific cause of their misfortune will forever be a mystery. The real reason for such misconduct may never be known. The issues and circumstances are situationally complex.

The Yin and Yang symbol is one of the oldest and best-known life symbols in the world, but few understand its full meaning. It represents one of the most fundamental and profound theories of ancient Taoist philosophy. At its heart are the two poles of existence, which are opposite but complementary. As part of the Tao, they are merely two aspects of a single reality. Each contains the seed of the other, which is why we see a black spot of Yin in the white Yang and vice versa. They do not merely replace each other but actually become each other through the constant flow of the universe.

The Zen of the open road may never be achieved until all users of it have a common reality and become completely enlightened; hardly a possibility when ignorance, self-indulgence, envy, and bad judgment prevail.