FIGHTING TO THE STARTING LINE

In October of 2010, two weeks before the Ironman World Championship, a common medical procedure lead to tiny breaks in my femoral head, and within two days - the bone's eventual collapse. 

Took Drs 3 Months to Diagnose

My dream of participating in the world’s toughest endurance race faded as doctors informed me that bi-lateral hip replacement was my only option, and that I would be unable to run again.

selected from 7000 to race in the 2010 Ironman
World Championship in Kona, HI

“Mr. DeJesus, Game over,” the doctor stated. “You should start to play chess.”  I sat there visioning two years of preparation, hard work and grueling work-outs checkmated by a genetic musculoskeletal disease and exacerbated by a pain treatment option that was supposedly designed to help. 

It’s amazing how hope can quickly fade and turn into silent desperation. I sought out every medical expert, piece of advice and alternative treatment option on the planet.  Doused with pain medications that would put a horse to sleep, I refused to let my dream of an active lifestyle rest.

Completing the Suntrust National Marathon in 2009

2009 Marine Corps Marathon Finisher

News like that has a way of hitting like a whirlwind and it’s sad how fast things can fall apart.  In the blink of an eye you can go from being on top of the world to being so far down you can’t even lift your head to look up at it.  The shift from running 40 miles a week to not being able to move three feet, being the fastest dad on the planet, to the dad that needs the strength of his son’s legs to help him to the bathroom is devastating.  Such a blow also has a way of changing your perspective. You go from being one of the harshest critics of drug use to relying on them just to get you out of bed.  The fall can be so deep and happen so fast that you find yourself suddenly asking: Why did this happen to me? How will I manage? More importantly I kept wondering if I would ever be able to run again.

June 2010 before my injury with Coach Steve Dolge at Open Water Swim practice in Lorton, VA

In the back of my mind I kept thinking how unfair this all was. I was so prepared to compete in Kona.  I knew that come race day I wouldn't regret a second I trained, but I would regret every minute I didn't. I turned my body into an endurance machine.  I raced and raced and raced some more.  In 2010 I  spent more time in the water than in my whole life. I rode countless miles on the bike and ran everywhere. The physical and metal preparation was unreal. I learned so much not knowing that there was so much more to learn.  

Half Ironman Ready

My Cyclelife Team - Getting me to Kona

Me and Coach Steve. I came in 3rd and he came in 2nd at 2010 Ft. Richie Olympic Tri - Who Looks tired?

Messing around After 2010 Nations' Tri

Although it would have been easy to remain stuck wallowing in the why of it all, I knew that I had to move on. The real question wasn’t why I fell; it was what I was going to do to get back up. I knew my children, most cherished blessing, were concerned about me. I realized this was the opportunity to teach them a lesson that no book can. I decided right then and there that I would overcome the situation, even though I didn't know how.  I grabbed my crutches, took my meds and fought. 

Kids supporting (literally) Dad after Marathon Finish

My Son even got into Tris, winning first place 

My Buddies and Me

In my fight I met countless other athletes, like myself, who had been humbled by injury, disease or bad luck.  They shared stories of their struggle and I realized I wasn’t alone.  I was never alone.  Each day millions of people find out about conditions that radically change their lives and the lives of the ones who love them.  Some are even born into these conditions.  I realized that the right questions to ask are: “What are you going to do to make your life better? When are you going to start?”

Representing hope to millions of kids who need options beyond the streets and supporting the people who serve them is not an easy task.  How can you give hope when you don’t have any?  I needed to keep hope alive.  I have been a source of hope to thousands of youth and I could not stop now.  I looked toward a new group for inspiration—a group that I was becoming personally affiliated with. This group consisted of hundreds of people who were battling similar musculoskeletal disorders. In fact it is reported that musculoskeletal disease strikes 50 million adults (1 in 5) and 300,000 children, and is the nation’s leading cause of disability. The cost of this disease is enormous. Due to pain, lack of adequate health care, lack of knowledge, millions of Americans do not take the necessary steps to improve their lives. They give up and succumb to the ravages of this disease, resulting in the eventual hampering or halting physical movement and all the risks associated with inactivity. Depression sets in and life darkens, sometimes for a very long time.  

I witnessed so many athletes continue on despite personal challenges. I knew if they could do it, I could, too. I found my hope.  It was once again time for me to practice what I preach, so I went to work. I struggled to put on my socks, got some lace free shoes, picked up a raised toilet seat, moved my bed to the first floor, grabbed my crutches and went to battle.  I battled insurance companies, managed pain, demanded state of the art healthcare treatment, and searched for the best surgeons. I fought and didn't give up.  When I got knocked down, I got up and fought harder.

My Youth Leader Javier Driving me Around and Helping with Errands

Had to Give Up My Dog When Unable to Walk Her - Miss You YAYA!

Heading into 2nd Surgery March 2010

Hip opened and dislocated, then sawing begins - 5 hrs March 2011

Looks like Ham

3nd Surgery Feb 2012

Two years, three surgeries and five medical procedures later, I have two Smith Nephew Birmingham Hips installed.  Carbon alloy, titanium rims.  It has been a long journey. 

“It's not about getting to the finish line...it's about getting to the starting line.”  -- Coach Steve Dolge 

My race for Ironman began on Sept 27, 2010.  Today, August 26, 2012, two years later, at the Louisville Ironman, it’s time to celebrate.  I’ve been ready for this race for two years. The race is easy, getting here was the hard part. I hope those of you struggling with similar issues, be they mental, physical, emotional, financial will ask the right question: What am I going to do today to make my life better?” Then you fight your way to the starting line. The rest is a piece of cake. Now I know why I race. I race for the hundreds of thousands of young people who do not feel they have options beyond the streets. Young people who have lost hope - given up on society because they feel like society has given up on them.  In the United States, there are 6.7 million disconnected youth ages 16-25, about 17% of the total population in that age group.  Many of these youth dropped out of school or graduated but still can't find a meaningful, living wage job.  Unsure about where to turn and with so few options for development they give up. Many turn to the streets and get caught up in a vicious cycle of despair and desperation.

This has been my life's work for the past 25 years. With Federally funds reaching less than  3% of these "opportunity youth" we still move on.  It has been hard. We have saved many and lost some.  Yet, the battle is not over. In fact, it has only just begun.  If we are going to succeed in this war, we must reach the hearts of young people.  We must show them, through example, that as long as you try there is always hope and people willing to help.   Just have fight your way to the starting line.

Today, I am going to become an Ironman—not because I swam 2.4 miles, biked 112 miles and ran 26.2 miles within 15 hours. I become an Ironman today because I had the courage to start. You can too.

So You Want To Be An Endurance Athlete

Really?  Let me start by sharing this quote:

"Respect the distance or the distance won't respect you! It will eat you up, spit you out and make you beg for mercy" - Unknown 

I was reminded of this during a long swim today.  After three miles of straight swimming I felt good, really good. I looked at my watch and I felt good I was hitting my splits (that means I was maintaining a 1650 yard @ 30 minute pace). In fact I was coming in at 27 minutes.  Good feeling/ Right? WRONG!!!!!

With 1 mile to go I knew this is where the hard work begins.  My arms ached and my legs didn't want to kick anymore. The Pull Buoy sitting on the edge of the pool looked liked a life preserver. I just wanted to grab it and tuck it between my legs. However, I knew I couldn't. There would be no Pull Buoy in the James River On Oct 13 during the 5 mile  "To the Bridge and Back Swim."  This is where the training begins - when the going gets hard. The first 3 miles was just a prerequisite, the last 1 mile was the lesson.

Here's what we do. We get ourselves to a point where the average person says "F5$k this S#&@. Then we train.  It may be the last 20 miles of a 80 mile Bike ride or the last 6 miles of an 18 mile run. It's not about our physical ability; it'a all about our mental.

I did that last mile playing mind tricks to stay focused on the task at hand and away from the pain and exhaustion. "Ed, swim 50, sight for 25, and fast for 25, OK - now 100 easy. Do it again. What? Was I supposed to do 50 easy, 25 drill? Damn!"

It boils down to this. In the race, as in life; you won't regret a second you prepared; you will regret every minute you didn't. Are you willing to go the distance?  Are you willing to do what it takes to just get to the point where most people just give in?

I see people who never push past the point of discomfort and pain to achieve the miraculous. They get so fed up in their career; they forget about their calling, or they never took time to develop one. I'm going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer: "Is there a dream in your heart that's so big yet the pain and hardship of  reaching that dream holds you back?"  You've done the prerequisites - now achieve your dream! One more mile!!!!

WHAT DO TRIATHLETES DO AFTER IRONMAN - GET A TATTOO!

Why?

If you knew what I went through you wouldn't have to ask. 

What?

Unlike my first tattoo which was just number 27 on page 12 of a 50 page Tattoo sample book, my IM tattoo has a deep significance, at least to me.  It symbolized the perseverance, character and hope that flows through my veins.  For two years, participation in the world's toughest endurance race eluded me as I faced another challenged - resuming the ability to walk, then run. The only motivator during these deep, desperate, and depressing times, besides my love for my children, was my desire to reach the starting line of the Ironman. I knew, deep down inside, that if I was to ever speak to young adults about not giving up, working hard, and keeping your head up when everyone else is looking down at you; I had to practice what I preached. 

The IM tattoo is a personal symbol of what I went through and a sign to never forget what I had to do to overcome it.  It's time to share this message with others.

How?

As I sat with Ryan, the Tattoo artist from Raw Ink Studios, I tried to explain what I wanted. I shared my idea of a rolling IV stand hooked into the M.dot logo.  I wanted to capture the image of the Ironman Challenge flowing through my blood. It would be a reminder that in all life's challenges, if one keeps hope, persistence and courage; you will overcome.

Ryan took one look at the veins in my arms and said who needs an IV. The rest is history. 

Louisville Ironman 2012 Race Report

I arrived in Louisville, Kentucky excited about the opportunity to celebrate my journey and the lessons learned. It wasn’t so much about finishing a race, as it was about starting a life. It was about putting the pain of the past, and the suffering and depression behind me and starting a new journey – today.  

Many of the athletes had on faces of anguish as they got ready to face up to 17 hours of grueling competition and pain. They were the tight ass folks. I wasn’t hanging around them.  I already live in D.C. - the Capitol of tight asses. I wanted to be around fun, full of life people – I found them at the Pre-Ironman 1.5 Mile Underpants Run. 

Most experts will discourage running butt naked in the 95 degree Lousivile heat the day before an Ironman with nothing  on but Superman Underwear (it had a cape) and an aero helmet.  With the highest DNF (Did Not Finish) rate of all Ironman races -  15% , each hour of rest and every second out of the sun prior to racing is extremely important. However, on this day I threw caution to the wind. My nerves were wrapped so tight and anxiety shot through the roof. I had to unload, I mean unwrap. About 200 athletes laughed, took a pledge to never expose ourselves in public again, then took off for a 1.5 mile run through downtown Lousiville.  Things were swinging, booties were bouncing, and a whole lot of blubber was jiggling.  However, it was what I needed to shake my nerves and ease my thoughts about what I was about to put myself through.   

Throughout the week I got to meet triathletes from all over the world.   I met Karen from Arizona, a two-time triathlete who was more of a gentle spirit than a rock-hard competitor. We drove the bike course with a John, 25 year old Yale law school graduate and other members of the IAMTRI family. I met Steve, a father of three, who just last year recovered from two heart procedures.  Brad, Karen’s friend, who battles a bad back condition and completed 4 Ironmans with a race/walk strategy to lessen impact and back stress.  He rocks every one.  I was not alone. I think everyone who comes to an Ironman is battling some type of pain, misfortune, challenge - it's not amazing that they finish. It's so amazing that they had the courage to start.

IamTri Pre Course Group Ride

Terra Castro - Woman's Pro Triathlete and 3rd Place Woman's Finisher at Louisville

The pre-race dinner was special. I have never seen so many white people in one place. I thought I was at the Republican National Convention.  I just wanted to jump up and scream, "Yes We Can!"  On second thought, maybe not.  I must have been the only black guy there. Well not really; there were five.  Triathlons are not that diverse. More brothers better learn to swim, and sisters better start not minding getting their hair wet.  Seriously, the lack of minority participation in this sport needs to be examined.  I'm just not doing it. 

I See White People

Thank god I asked Karen to be my date to the dinner. It was an inspirational show and the food wasn't that bad.  The group at my table were friendly and all the athletes were just as nervous as I was. 

Ed and Karen

Saturday morning I got up for the pre-race Ohio River swim.  The water was surprisingly cool and felt great for this non wet-suit event.  Yes, I said non-wet-suit. I wanted to cheat and bring a pull buoy but couldn't find one. There were going to be no breaks on this course.  I swam the full 1200 meters allowed. Thank god for coach Leon and The Ancient Mariners Masters Swim Team.  I have spent so much time in the water over the past two years, recently completing a 3 mile and 4 mile Open Water non wetsuit swim within the past three months. Not too mention trying to stay on the heels of people who have been swimming since there were six. I grew up in the Bronx. We had only a few pools and when they were open, you had to complete with 1000 people just for standing room. I didn't start swimming till I was 45. I remember my first full lap. I thought I was going to die. Now I am about to swim an Ironman.  Where is that damn Pull Buoy!   

I had a lot of running around to do.  Underpants Run, Practice Swim, Bike set-up...i was exhausted. To make matters worse, I decided to walk to the swim start. I didn't realize it was light yeas from the transition. I should have kept my bike and rode the mile and a half to the location. When I go there, totally exhausted and being beat down by the Louisville heat, I ducked into a local restaurant and drowned myself with water and called a cab to get me back to my hotel. I was done and it wasn't even race day. 

Pre-Event Take Away

Maybe a little less  running around.

Race Morning

I couldn't sleep. Just layed there watching the hours go by. Finaly at 4:00am I got up, took a shower, said a prayer, ate oatmeal, walnuts and a Banana specially prepared for me by the Marriott night staff and headed to the course. It was dark out but only a short walk form my hotel to the transition. I was hoping to see Karen and Brad but there was just too much going on.  I did not use a special needs for the bike or run. They had enough stuff out on the course. I tried all the products in training. I love Ironman Perform as long as it is cold.  Bonk Breakers were the bomb, especially apple pie. I carried my EFS energy flask on my bike and one in my jersey. I also loaded up with endurolytes to help prevent dehydration and cramping, and packed a few capsules of Advil. My body was ready but my nerves were shot. I kept thinking: what if I can't finish? What if my hips act up?  I had to stop all the negative thinking and think only one thing - I am an Ironman!

Race Morning Take Away

Take a Xanax

Swim

Louisville has a unique swim start - No mass start. They just run you off the dock, one at a time, like a stampeding herd of buffaloes off a cliff.  The only problems was the 1.5 mile walk from transition to swim start, then the other 1 mile walk to find a spot in the line.  Let’s not talk about the wait. By the time I hit the water I was ready for a nap. The swim was great. I got smacked in the face and probably did some smacking back.  That’s just the way it is. Get used to it. Swim with a master crew and roll 8 deep to a lane. Get used to people pulling, hitting and crawling over you.  You will survive. My goggles shifted causing my left eye to fill up with Ohio River GU. It was a while till I was able to adjust goggles.  Buoy sitting was real easy. I just had to swim around a lot of people. Starting in the middle of the swim pack placed a greater number of swimmers in my way. I held back on the swim because I was worried about just speeding up to slow down.  When I found my spot in the water I held my distance until I saw a clear breakaway. Them I let lose. I cleared all the orange and yellow buoys. When I saw the red ones, I knew I was near the finish and kicked into high gear.  I was amazed to feel so good, but it was just the start of the day.

Swim Take Away

Get to the race site earlier and get a better spot on the line in order to avoid water traffic.

Final Swim 1:20. Goal 1:30.

T1

Exiting the swim was not a problem. I darted to transition and stayed there enjoying the conversations I was having with other Triathletes. We weren't in a rush, the course wasn't going anywhere. I was so worried about my swim time and here I am finishing 10 minutes ahead of schedule and didn't really push hard. The day is long so why rush?  I put on my blister protectors, drank tons of fluids, and let the pretty girl rub sunscreen all over my body while I cracked some jokes. I grabbed Zippedodah Jones and we headed out to the course. Why did TI take me 11 minutes? I have no clue. 

T1 Take Away

Shut up and race

T1 Time: 11:22 Goal: 8 Minutes

Bike

The Louisville Bike course had me shook. I took off moderating my speed becasue I knew the hills were coming. I wanted to keep my speed under 19mph on the flats to save energy for all the hills and rollers.  I did a lot of hill repeats in training to build my quad strength.  My hip flexors are still a little weak from years of bad hips and surgery.  My trainer, Perry Washington, keeps me focused on building back my hip flexors. It is the most boring of exercises, but in my case the most important.  My range of motion has improved greatly since my surgeries, but it never occurred to me to get a new bike fit. 

I was able to keep a good clip (19/mph) using the downhill momentum created by the rollers to keep up my average speed.  There are some incredibly steep downward hills that were pretty scary. Given the small size of the road, I was worried about another athlete on the return leg slamming into me from the other side. I took downhills smart, never averaging more than 34 miles per hour and never pedaling.

I took in water every 15 minutes and downed a Perform and Bonk Breaker at each station.  I didn’t realize that it wasn’t the normal size bonk breakers I used in training. They were bite-sized and reduced calories by 100. There were a lot of bottles on the road, so you had to be real careful near aid stations.  Ambulances were zooming past me every 5 miles. It was unnerving to hear them and see so many athletes on the side of the road.  Louisville was doing what it does better than any other Ironman - taking athletes out the race one by one. 

At mile 70 I felt extreme pain in my left knee.  I never had this type of pain before and it got worse with each pedal stroke.  I wasn’t worried because my bike computer showed I was way ahead of schedule. I pushed through to mile 107 but the pain was so intense that I was scared something ripped.  Coupled with the heat, I felt like I was going to pass out from the pain.  Up ahead I saw a police officer, and headed straight towards him.  I immediately went to the floor. He asked me if I wanted him to call an ambulance and I said yes.  He asked me if I wanted to quit the race, I said no. I laid there in severe pain for about 10 minutes, and then I realized I packed Advil in my saddle bag. I asked the officer to get the pack out for me and I took four. I laid there for another 20 minutes as the Advil started to help the pain while the shade restored some of my energy. I told the officer to thank the ambulance for me but I had a race to finish. He urged me to stay and get checked out, but I only had 7 miles to go. I got back on Zippedeedodah Jones and she brought us home. I don’t know how she did it.

Bike Take Away

                Maybe it is good to get your bike refitted after receiving joint implants?

2          Thank god for Advil.

Bike Time: 7:14 Goal 7:30 (still beat my time even with laying on the side of the road for30 minutes)

T2

As soon as I hit transition, I couldn’t get off my bike. Riders were coming in fast behind me but I could not lift my leg over the bar. I had to drop my bike to the floor and step over it. The transition staff were great. They knew something was wrong but could not aid or assist me in anyway.  They grabbed my bike while I limped over to the transition tent. The staff helped me take off my shoes and load my bike gear into my bag.  I struggled to put on my socks and toe protectors. I drank, drank, ate and ate. Someone left some food behind and I ate it. I was so hungry I didn’t care. I grabbed my gear and hobbled over to the medical tent. My knee was swollen, but the rest of me was in good shape. The Advil helped. The med staff iced the knee, applied tons of Icy-Hot, packed the knee with ice, wrapped it up and asked, “What are you going to do?”  

“Do what I came here to do!” I replied.  I sipped on a nice cold Coke and headed out of transition real slow.

T2 Take Away

I got to stop hanging out in transition areas.

T2 Time: 20:45 Goal: 8 Minutes

Run

Oh SH#@! Here I go. I could not believe I was on last leg of the course. My coach told me that halfway of the Ironman was 10 miles on the run.  I just wanted to reach the 10 mile mark and I knew I would finish. The heat was beaming on my neck.  I took an extra ice pack out of the medical area and kept it on my neck.  I tried to run but the pain in my knee shot up through my leg.  It felt like my knee became real elastic, often overextending. I knew it must be a ligament issue. I shortened my stride and worked on landing on the flat of my foot instead of the heel. It really helped. After mile 4, I was able to pick up some speed but now with both knee and hip problems, I decided to keep it in check.

 There was no issue of cardio-vascular fitness.  I prepared for this distance with 1/3 training in the pool, 1/3 training on an elliptical and 1/3 on the road.  I usually logged in 8 hours a week with running exercises.  For most that would translate to 30-40 miles a week. People don’t understand that it’s not the Ironman that is bad for my condition; it’s the training for the ironman that does it.  Constant impact is the worst thing for someone with my type of condition, especially given the number of hours we train per week. 

Now let me tell you, Deep Water Running is boring, but it is the best way to develop your cardiovascular fitness. Water is 15% denser than air.  It is so cool watching the lifeguards look at me with the “WTF” is he doing face during my 3 hour deep water running session. I met some cool senior citizens at the pool—especially my girl Ethel. She wears this floral swim cap and runs the pool.  Tom, another senior citizen (I think he and Ethel are doing it on the side), always tells me what he thinks about President Obama. In fact, I think he thinks I am President Obama. 

I stay in my target heart rate zone during water exercise. Although the water reduces your body tempo thus your heart rate slows, you can still figure it out. Leading authorities on Deep Water Running say add 15% to your water running heart rate for an adequate comparison to outdoor running.

The whole point was that there was no way marathon was going to stop me form being an Ironman.  It was just musculoskeletal issues that I was concerned with and as long as I don’t go high impact, I would make it.  The aid stations were spread out each mile and well-stocked. I tried to order a cheeseburger at mile ten but they weren’t having it. Stores lined the sidewalks as we ran through downtown Louisville. We passed a Qdoba and I was tempted to sneak in and grab some tacos but I think I would have been disqualified.  A few times the emergency car pulled up to me and asked if I was alright. They kept an eye on me the whole race.  So many runners and supporters would look at me, see my wrapped knee and wonder why the hell I was smiling. If they only knew what I've been through.  

As I approached the last mile the realization hit me that this was the beginning, not the end. It was a celebration of a new start.  It represented the chance to continue to run with my sons, chase down my dog, and race with the best endurance athletes in the world. I may not get to Kona, but each year as my leg gets stronger; I will get faster. As my hips stabilize, my swim will improve, and as my flexors strengthen, no hill will slow me down. Most importantly I learned that the most important question you have to ask yourself in any situation is: What are you doing to make your life better?  Then you fight your way to the starting line. The rest is a piece of cake.

I crossed the finish line with more energy and enthusiasm than I ever had. I shot down the shute forgetting about all the pain, and pumping up the crowd with swinging arms and a whole lot of yelling.  It was my way of letting them know that this isn't my finish; it's the start of my beginning. Edward DeJesus, you're an Ironman! You always were!  

Edward DeJesus

Ironman 8/26/2012

Romans 5: 3-4.

Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.

Take Away
There are too many people to thank for getting me past this hurdle. I have to start with my children. I remember Elijah watching me cry as the day of Kona approached and I laid in pain.  He told me I will have another chance. Elijah - You are my Ironman!  My son - Little Eddie for staying with me and helping me after surgery. Missed his college Spring break to make sure he took care of his dad. To my ex-wife Nadine for being there when I needed her. 

To all the Doctors, especially my surgeons Dr. Horton and Dr. Thomas.  Thanks for helping me fight the insurance battles and making sure I had the best chance at regaining an active lifestyle.

To my best friend Eugene. Thanks Big Bro.  You are a great friend and thanks for being there when I needed you.   To the whole crew at CycleLife USA, esp Coaches Eric Sorenson and Steve Dolge, Matt, Frick, Gonzalo and the girl who makes those great Smoothies. Thanks for keeping me racing. To my first marathon coach: Mike Broderick - RIP dude. I know..I know.."got to go slow to go fast." To my trainer Perry, MOCO members, Amy, Oscar, Scott, and the rest of you guys for not being scared to tell me when I was doing a little too much. To Shawna and Justyn - thanks for the support and love. Ancient Mariners rock and Germantown Swimmers - you do too! Special shout out to my family at Surface Hippy -no one knows our struggle. It gets better everyday. To my dog Luke., I am sorry we missed so many walks.  Now, let's run!