CF Cycle For Life

"For each illness that doctors cure with medicine, they provoke ten in healthy people by inoculating them with the virus that is a thousand times more powerful than any microbe: the idea that one is ill."

Marcel Proust

I never feel more ill than when I'm at my quarterly doctors appointment. Like patient zero of the zombie apocolypse, I am immediately given gloves and a facemask to wear while I traverse the halls. I am subjected to a barrage of tests of which I already know the results. The definition of insanity.

For this same reason I loathed attending Cystic Fibrosis events. I realize it's an odd way of thinking, but they were a cosntant reminder that I was sick and that a shortened life expectancy loomed overhead. Fortunately, with the help of my girlfriend Anna, support from family and friends, and the invention of a bicycle, I found my way into Cycle for Life. My experience with the event completely evaporated my ill concieved fears.

I met Michael White and Cole Jacobson while working the booth of a bicycling event. Like any cliche of three guys meeting at a bicycle event, we became good friends! Their passion for curing CF convinced me to sign up in a matter of minutes. Over a number of lunches, they answered all of my CF related questions and taught me a great deal about the organization.

As I began fundraising, I was in awe at how many people jumped in to support me. I received donations from people I had never met. All this support made it very easy to log training miles and prepare for my 70 mile journey. I also attended training rides organized by the CF chapter. These rides pumped me up for the event and introduced me to a number of passionate individuals. To my suprise, my good friend Mike Ciaccio came aboard and pledged to ride with me.

Eventually it was race day! Although the race technically began at 8:00 am, my race began at 6:00 am due to my terrible planning skills. We were running late, I got lost finding the venue, and I forgot a number of essential items. After that morning, the race was a breeze.

Our first rest stop was a short 12 miles into the ride at BJ's. BJ's is an amazing sponsor for the CF community. If you're not eating a Pizookie while reading this, you're doing something wrong. I will try not to bore my vast readership (all three of you) with details of the ride, but one key feature throughout the day was the beauty of the course.

Our second rest stop was a Rock N' Road Cyclery in Mission Viejo. We visited this shop twice during the day and they had a ton of awesome volunteers and helpful staff. This rest stop was a bit more eventful. While I was just warming up at this point, Mike looked as if he just finished an Ironman. He kept saying, "My god Wes, this isn't the Tour de France". In my defense, I felt that we were on pace to finish in 2013. Eventually I convinced him to turn around and just do the 35 mile ride. I believed the rest of the journey would be a solo one.

Within five minutes I had joined up with a group of red jersey wearing cyclists called the Ohana riders (Ohana means family in Hawaiian). Now I've heard Hawaiian people are friendly, but this group was made up of some of the friendliness, most welcoming people I've ever met. We rode together for hours and I consider meeting up with them one of the real treats of the day.

Onward and upwards we went, the mileage surpassed only by the smileage. I ate over 2,000 calories on the ride. If I wasn't chatting with the Ohana Riders, my mouth was stuffed with peanut butter and jellys, handfulls of pretzels, electrolyte drinks, gu's, and cliff bars. Each rest stop was a Nascar pit stop. I filled up on water, frantically read nutrition labels and guessed how many enzymes I needed to take.

The route ended with roughly 1,000 feet of elevation gain over 4 miles through Santiago Canyon. I felt great as I approached the entrance to the canyon and decided to push myself to the limit.

I had plenty of time during the ride to reflect on all my doctors appointments, blood tests, and breathing medicines. Instead of the usual disdain, all I felt was thankfullness. I was thankful for the support of my donors, the awesomeness of the event, and the love of family and friends. I wasn't attending an event that made me feel sick or weak. I was being challenged and doing something that healthy people wouldn't attempt. Pouring sweat and with a big smile on my face, I had never felt so healthy in my life.  

My CF Story

It only took 23 years, but I have just passed the denial stage of my Cystic Fibrosis battle. I’m only kidding, but I wasn’t too into the education, blog reading, 5k walking side of my CF for a long time. I stuck to the belief that out of sight was out of mind. The less I did my breathing, the less I had to be sick with CF. That being said, I know I need to change my habits.  However, as you are well aware, parents, doctors and PFT results don’t always provide enough motivation.

That’s why I am writing a blog. I am not writing to brag about my great health, complain about my stomach aches or ask the world to feel sorry for me. I’m simply looking to involve myself more heavily in the social networking, educational, doing my breathing treatments side of CF. I hope that involving myself in the CF community will force me to carry the burden of accountability.

My first blog experience was with Ronnie Sharpe’s blog and boy was it eye opening! I felt like I was reading the diary I never had the courage to write. I opened a vast portal of information, shared experiences and unconventional remedies that I never knew existed. He understands the shared purpose of promoting healthy CF’ers, which leads him to openly sharing his experiences in an amazing way. So before I move any farther, thanks Ronnie and Mandi and of course, congratulations on your baby!

I was diagnosed with CF at birth and had a number of health issues. I had meconium ileius, which although I don’t completely understand, I know it’s disgusting.   I had a number of surgeries and spent the first 7 weeks in a drug infused state. 15 years and a million enzymes later and I’m your typical annoying teenager. I play tons of sports and tell everyone that my scar was the result of a shark bite.

Near the end of high school, I had my first of 10+ (lost track) bowel obstructions. They involve lots of pain killers, a tube down your nose and in my case, lots of complaining. Fortunately, I have an amazing network of family and friends, including a mother who has spent every night in the hospital next to me and a supportive girlfriend who encourages me to write, do my treatments and run half marathons.

Overall, I have calculated my total days in the hospital to be just under a half year of my life. Although hospital stays are miserable, the world is brighter when you emerge; Food tastes better, sports are more fun and your experiences force you to take time to appreciate the little things.

After two bowel obstructions in a row, I had “exploratory surgery”. This unorthodox procedure is comparable to that time you were exploring around your fridge for something that smelled bad. Seven hours later and I was as good as new. To my understanding, my intestines looked like dried up spaghetti and had to be surgically untangled. Hungry yet? Another two weeks down the drain, but I learned a lot about myself and came away with a new appreciation for loved ones. Therein lies the theme of CF life, although there may be some suffering, if you can overcome it, you become that much stronger.

Around the time of this onslaught of hospital visits, I got my nebulizer and a host of other medicines. I’ve played sports my whole life and have had very little lung trouble. Although my PFTs aren’t great, my lungs have not held me back in any aspect of life! I understand that if I’m not diligent from this point forward, I will have a hefty price to pay.

That brings me to my current spot in life. I finished college and got a job in the marketing world at a government agency. I do marketing for bicycle programs. This fortunate turn of events keeps me in shape, as it evolved into my most recent hobby of cycling. I want to use this blog to talk about the value of exercise, my ongoing experiences with CF and to ask for help and guidance along the way.

Zombies according to Wes

Are you wondering how Zombies became the new gourmet cupcake? As a zombie enthusiast myself, I’m just the man to explain this phenomena.

Let me start with the most obtrusive feature of the zombie genre, violence and gore. Much like death and taxes, this aspect of the genre is necessary, but is an element of lesser importance in a good zombie production. Personally, I don’t much care for the gore and destruction; I can’t make it through an episode of Grey’s Anatomy without shielding my eyes or leaving the room. Nevertheless, the violence and destruction creates a framework for the zombie world.

“Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.” –Thucydides

We have learned that life after the zombie apocalypse is not for the faint of heart. There is no morality, altruism or sympathy. Things that we take for granted, access to fuel, running water and Seinfeld reruns are completely nonexistent.

Life’s purpose is instantly uncluttered and made simple. The complicated human emotions, friendship, empathy and forgiveness become white noise to the lure of survival.

I think that’s why the zombie genre is so appealing. Despite the perceived chaos of the zombie apocalypse, its simplicity is refreshing when compared to our own. We all think we could survive, throw morality to the wind and lead the next phase of human existence. The age old axiom says that when life’s purpose becomes realized, fulfillment can be achieved. Besides, when you’re staring down a midterm, a divorce or unemployment, a few limping monsters aren’t nearly as frightening.

Category 5

My legs are yelling at me. Though they are telepathically sent, oxygen deprived groans, I hear them loud and clear. If this is a Category 5, what is a Category 1?

Don’t worry, I get this question a lot, “Wes, what the hell are you talking about?” It’s 6:50 a.m. and I am biking up Bake Parkway to meet with coworkers for the Metrolink bike car launch.

I’m biking up a 2 mile hill that barely qualifies as a 3% grade and I’m suffering. To provide some context, Category 5 hills were invented recently by casual cyclers who wanted to quantify their weekend triumphs. Professional races only record climbs that are category 1-4. Plus, there is a “hors category”, which means beyond categorization. A 1 percent grade means a road ascends 1 meter (3.28 feet) for every 100 meters (328 feet) it advances. Beyond category climbs ascend at least 1,000 meters (3,280 feet) from start to finish and have an average grade of at least 7% for at least 15 miles.  

Let me translate this information for you. I am a wimp. What is my point? I love experiencing a challenge that upon completion, instantly gives you a new respect for a greater task. Ever try to bake a cake, carve something out of wood or make your own bed? Neither have I, but I bet doing those things would give you a tremendous amount of respect for people who turn these tasks into art on a daily basis.

I have thoroughly enjoyed juxtaposing cycling to everyday life. You may come to a very steep hill, filled with suffering, pain and a strong desire to quit, but rest assured that when you get to the top, the other side will propel you to exponentially faster speeds and the confirmation that the journey was worth the effort.

First Long Ride!

I thought I was just simply receiving a salary and a nine-to-five grind, but since joining OCTA's Marketing department, I have gained something wonderful, a new hobby. Initially I had one goal in mind: don't embarrass yourself at bike events. I just wanted to be hip with the jive, cool to the touch and a bunch of other sayings I don't understand. You see, the cycling community, is an isolated one. They feel that they are disrespected by traffic engineers, motorists and people who don't wear Lycra. Isolated communities often build high fences and  quite frankly, I wanted to do some breaking and entering.

So I got a bike (1980's Univega Gran Rally) and took to the roads. I was a little hesitant at first, but OCTA's Urban Cycling Workshop (shameless plug) helped me feel safer on the roads and more at ease from a mechanical standpoint.

My next step was commuting to work. The 12 mile journey is made more difficult by a few school zones and stretches that lack bikeways. Nevertheless, it's a pretty easy ride, and with a shower on-site, its surprisingly not a logistical nightmare. On a similar note, this is something I would highly recommend. I have been a little lackadaisical on doing it lately, but exercising before and after work makes you feel pretty great all day.

Finally it was time to embark on a team ride. I accompanied (read: slowed down) my coworker Charlie and his team on a 40 mile trip through Santiago Canyon. We left Jax Bike Shop Irvine and headed through Lake Forest to Mission Viejo. From there, we headed up El Toro road to Santiago Canyon. At this point, I began to cramp a bit, lost my balance and took a slight tumble. I had failed rule #1, "Don't embarrass yourself". It was definitely a low point, but I was wearing a lycra suit, so I shouldn't have expected much. Fortunately, it was a minor set back and we were back on the road in 5 minutes.

The most interesting part of the journey was our stop at Cook's Corner. I will set the scene: A crowded patio where old men in leather jackets fawned over $10,000 motorcycles. A crowded patio where old men in lycra fawned over $10,000 bicycles. The juxtaposition of these two groups was hilarious and surreal.

We continued onward, albeit slowly, up the canyon. I really enjoy the varying speeds of cycling. We were suffering up a hill at barely 5 miles per hour. Then at the top, we screamed down at 37 mph! The last half of the journey was mostly downhill and we were back at Jax Bike shop in no time!

I was exhausted, my throat hurt and I sounded like a poorly aging Kermit the frog, but I had survived! It was a great overall experience and I am poised to attempt it again soon.

Bike Snapshot

Had to do this exercise for an upcoming bike workshop
Snapshop of getting your first bike-

"I received my first bike in 3rd grade. It was a black and orange Mongoose BMX bike. It was a single speed bike with pedal breaks. To me, it epitomized freedom and independence. No longer was I reliant on mom and dad for trips to the park, market or school. I had instantly expanded my grasp of the city. I could go the sports parks that once belonged to a strange and far away land. I felt as though I had this machine that provided me with limitless possibilities and also great responsibility. Recently, I received my uncle's old Univega Grand Rally as a gift. While it was in the shop being tuned-up I was overwhelmed with the same feeling of excitement. Receiving the old bike, as with riding it, gave me a calmness and levity that is rare in the fast-paced, twitter filled, energy drink fueled world of today."

San Dieguito Half Marathon

Last week, my lovely girlfriend Annapurna and I headed off to San Diego to run in the San Dieguito Half Marathon. Although I say run, it may be not the right word. Instead, you spend two hours talking to yourself, hoping your knees hold up, and quietly singing the words to whatever is on your iPod. Despite my description it is surprisingly enjoyable. The Rancho Santa Fe area is absolutely beautiful. The area is lined with homes, or more aptly, estates with corrals, tennis courts, iron fences, and stunningly paved driveways. 

The day before the race we ran a bunch of errands. We did however have an awesome lunch at Café 21!  Anna had a ham, apple, and swiss panini

with greens and strawberries I had a delicious spicy monte cristo sandwich with their homemade potato chips. It was a REVELATION (I believe that is what your are supposed to say about good food). But anyways, the place was seriously awesome and I highly recommend it.

Fast forward to race day, we arrived around 7:00 a.m. to San Dieguito Park. The place was already popping with activity and the first twinge of nerves began to build. We made our way down a ridiculous dirt hill that wound back and forth. I couldn’t help wonder who was going to drag me back up after the race. After an hour of pre-race warm-up, which mainly involved trying to huddle together in the sun, we were ready to race! As the gun sounded it was remarkable to see the impulse of nearly every runner to immediately manipulate an electronic device rather than start running. The first mile Anna and I ran together, but as we neared the first turn, we parted ways. During the Long Beach Marathon, we ran together longer, but one of my first few songs was Eye of The Tiger, so I couldn’t contain myself.

1 hour and 52 minutes later…

To make a long story short, we finished the race. Although I felt good throughout, as I was given my medal I started to feel a bit dehydrated. The feeling was similar to waking up on the floor in a frat house. I had a bad headache, my eyes felt sunken into the back of my head, and after I started eating a banana my neck began to cramp. In hindsight, I probably should have asked for an IV from the medical staff foreshadowing), but I figured a few bananas would do the trick.

We get home Annapurna’s house and the most exciting crime-detective-drama case was unfolding outside of her house. There were cop cars everywhere! A guy had stolen a car, driven it nearly off a canyon cliff, and ran down into the canyon to evade the police. Rather than solve the case myself, I felt like I should probably lie down.

After a nap, a little lunch and a ton of water, it was dinner time. It was no ordinary dinner mind you; it was Valentine’s Day eve! We went to Sea Rocket Bistro and although I didn’t eat too much, it was great. We ordered a variety of different tapas, clams, cheese, meatballs, meats.

We left the restaurant and I still wasn’t feeling great. We get back to her house and in two seconds BAM I throw-up everything! I will save you the graphic details, but at midnight on Sunday, I was just checking out of the hospital. Thankfully, I had Annapurna, her family, and my family to come hang out and make sure I was ok. Once I had an IV in me, I felt a lot better. There were no serious problems and I was told to hydrate better, what a concept. In the end, Anna and I are retiring for a while with the half-marathons and in search of a new hobby. Any suggestions?