Operation: Rebuild Sika

Title courtesy of my Dad.
Warning: If you have a weak stomach do not read this blog update.

My good side ;-)

My Dad asked me earlier today: "If you were told before the race that this would happen, but that you'd go on to race again and eventually earn your pro card, would you go through with it?" I didn't hesitate: "Yes, in a heartbeat!" The truth is, every day is a gamble. I am fully aware of the risks I take when I ride on the open road or run alone on a secluded trail. But I can't help but think of how unhappy I'd be if I didn't do these things. This is part of what makes me ... me. I have countless stories to tell and beautiful people in my life all due to the simplicity of swimming, biking, and running. I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams the opportunities I'd be given because of this sport.

On the cover of this month's Endurance Magazine

LINK TO MAGAZINE ARTICLE
Dana MacCorquodale wrote an awesome article profiling my story <3

On the flip side, there is something else that I discovered about myself through this experience - my gut instinct is pretty freakin strong. I didn't dare say it to others, but I mentioned to my parents on several occasions that I DID NOT want to do this particular race. This is the third half ironman that I've traveled to alone, and the third time it didn't go well. Traveling and racing alone just isn't something I enjoy. My family isn't there to pump me up, make me laugh, calm my nerves, or help me think rationally. My mind was honestly a jumbled mess heading into this race.

The other thing I was dreading: the Age Group Start (I would have to start in the second to last wave of women and weave through hundreds of competitors that would start before me). When you are racing for a top 10 overall female amateur finish (fingers crossed top 3 eventually = pro card; 7th, 9th, and 11th have been my closest), starting so far behind the rest of the field isn't exactly ideal. I think I benefited tremendously from the self seeded rolling starts at all three of the 70.3s I did last year. And there is no way in h*ll I would have had the fastest female amateur run split at IRONMAN 70.3 Eagleman if it wasn't for a self seeded start.

Where to begin?
I'll start with what I "think" I remember, which I am pretty certain is almost everything leading up to my crash on the bike course at IRONMAN 70.3 Texas last weekend.

Leaving transition and heading to the swim start

Photo courtesy of Tony Reed

The Swim (1.2 miles)
I made my way down to the water about a half hour after the pros started. I can remember each minute slowly ticking by as my nerves took on a mind of their own. But I kept going over the race plan my coach and I discussed - the abbreviated version 1) don't kill myself on the swim, 2) only focus on the bike - ride aggressive, hold the watts I had been practicing, don't think about the run, trust the bike fitness I've gained from training through the winter, 3) hold on during the run and have confidence that I can still run pretty fast off the bike. This race for me would be all about the bike.

I watched as groups of men and women jumped in the water every few minutes. It felt like an eternity before it was finally my turn. At 7:45 I jumped in, waded, and was shocked by how cold it was. It completely caught me off guard, but I was thankful that I got to wear my new Zoot Wikiwiki Wetsuit.

I don't know what happened to me during that swim but I was terribly slow. My swim practices have been going phenomenally well. I've been holding paces I haven't seen since high school. I wish I could pinpoint what went wrong, but I simply just did not have it on this particular day.

Swim Exit

Photo courtesy of Susan Oyler

As I emerged from the water we were funneled into a shoot and practically single file. I had nowhere to go and was stuck behind people walking and catching their breath. Time: 36:02 (28th in my age group... yikes). All I could think of at this point was how I missed winning my age group by 30 seconds at the last IRONMAN 70.3 I did. Every second counts! I was panicking.....

The Bike (56 miles ~4 miles)
Lucky for me I had prime bike racking (right next to the pros) because of my AWA ranking from last year. This is one perk that IRONMAN gives that I really like!

I remember when I went to mount my bike I actually had to run wayyyyy past the mount line because there were so many people clipping in. When I finally zig zagged through the turns I got in aero and went to work. I wasn't being my typical cautious self. I was eager to see how much the hours upon hours of cycling I had done leading up to this race would pan out. I was passing tons of people. Something I am not used to. It was bizarre!

And then, perhaps, I did something foolish. I had to go wide to pass a long line of competitors in front of me. I was also trying to stay alert of the wave of men behind me that would potentially pass. Next, I have vague recollection of hitting something. I can't be certain, but all I can picture is an orange cone. According to my Garmin I was going 25.8 mph (all flat course) when I crashed. But I was only pushing 180 watts. With my disc wheel and the tail wind I think I was going way faster than I expected? I don't know. Perhaps I'll never know.

Piecing everything back together....

Immediately post op. They wouldn't let me look in the mirror so I busted out my cell phone to assess the damage ;-)

At first I had a hard time accepting that there are hours of my life that I will never remember. I have fleeting memories of feeling weightless (I think this is when I was put on a stretcher), I vaguely remember waking up during what I think was an MRI. And then my mind is blank until I was fully lucid and getting stitched.

First I wiggled my fingers and toes. Ok I'm not paralyzed. Thank you God. But what am I doing here? Oh yeah I was racing. Did I finish the race? Crap, I don't remember ever running. Oh no, they gave me drugs. What did they give me? Are they stitching my face??

I was a hazy mess. They informed me that I had a bad bike crash and that my nose was broken, my teeth were cracked and a few were loose, and that they needed to keep stitching my face (34 stitches in total). I also had bad road rash on my hands, knees, arms/shoulders. Believe it or not the only three things I cared about were 1) my brain, 2) I didn't want anymore drugs, and 3) what happened to my new custom Zoot tri kit. Turns out they cut it off of me. I had some choice words about that!

RIP to my suit

Unfortunately I made the mistake of having my mother as my emergency contact. My parents were actually in Morocco when this occurred = no cell service, I couldn't remember my brother's phone number, and I had no way of getting in touch with Tony & Julienne (cheer squad) who had my stuff. I don't remember any of this but apparently I used a doctor's cell to message my Dad: "Hi Dad. Can you call? I would really like to talk to you." Ummmm yeah apparently not a big deal in my mind. Then I was finally able to call my Mom via What's App. She said that I calmly told her about my broken nose, teeth, stitched face. She was crying and I was like "everything is fine." What on earth? I'll blame it on the drugs. When I finally sent her pictures she said that she nearly passed out.

The Long Road Ahead (no pun intended)

I got my sense of humor back

The past week has been an emotional roller coaster. Flying from Houston to Newark (parents live in NJ) was a miserable experience. My face literally swelled so much that I was unrecognizable. I also opted not to go on any pain killers (personal choice). But I'll tell you this much: my parents have been my rock. They hopped on the next flight home from Morocco and greeted me at the door. My Mother has literally waited on me hand and foot. Cooking, dressing my wounds, driving me to every appointment (as many as three a day), trying anything and everything to make me smile (ie. I got a mani/pedi the other day!).

Asked my Dad for a bowl of ice cream and he brought me back 4 Liters. Life is good.

I feel like each day is two steps forward, one step backwards. My broken nose has been fixed but I'm having all sorts of dental issues and struggling to eat solid food. I also can't speak that well. All of the stitches have been removed from my face but in my opinion I look like Frankenstein! Still, I'm extraordinarily grateful because I know that this could have had a much worse ending.

One week progression

I was originally going to update my blog once I was 100% healed. I wanted to have a perfect success story to share. But life isn't a perfect success story. Trials and tribulations build character and make you appreciative of all the little things. When this initially happened my first reaction was "I.AM.DONE", but the thought of not laughing at 5:30 am with my master's swim group before we jump in the frigid pool, or complaining to Dylan and Andrea 2 hours into our bike ride that my butt hurts, or swinging by Village Bicycles and harassing Connie and Walt (like every day).... I'm just not ready to give these things up. Not yet! Sorry Coach Jonathan Caron you have me for at least another season.

THANK YOU
I wish I could name each and every person that has reached out, sent flowers, cards, thoughtful gifts, and doctor referrals. Each and every one has picked up my spirits and made me feel loved. Thank you also to whoever took care of me at the scene of the accident (I have no recollection), to the doctors and nurses that cared for me at UTMB, Tony & Julienne for traveling to Galveston and making sure I got back to my parents in one piece, Earl (my Dad's best friend) and my brother for getting me home safely and keeping my spirits up during the drive home, and my boss Robbie for being extraordinarily understanding.

Next up...
Coach and I are putting together a plan. I typically share, but this time I would like to keep it to myself. But I will share this: my ultimate goal is to be on the starting line at IRONMAN 70.3 Augusta in September. From now until then I have to go through the dreadful process of replacing stuff: bike seat, helmet, my beautiful bike (totally jacked up), and somehow even my bike shoes got tore up too! But it's just... "stuff" ;-)

I'll continue to post updates via my Instagram page to keep track of my progression:

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A post shared by Sika Henry (@sikahenry) on Mar 13, 2019 at 5:42am PDT