One more year. Just one more year and I’ll be content and done. Ready to put this chapter behind me and move on to the next.
Cancer, can we make that deal? The deal is you try not to kill me or have to
have my sternum hacked open by my doctors for just one more year? That would be
muchly appreciated, regards Rachael.
I know it doesn’t exactly work like that but that’s what I
thought at I completed my 2016/2017 professional athlete registration. So far
so good. The mass behind my breast bone and the one that sits to the right side
of my trachea seem to be stable. Not changing, not growing, just a dormant
unknown within.
The dust has now settled on August. I went into the season
guns blazing with back to back weekends racing. I headed north again to Yeppoon
Triathlon in early August. It is hard to believe this event is only in its
second year with a number of events over the weekend that cater for all
abilities and ages. For me it’s also a weekend to spend with my mum as she
travels up with me and we stay with our long- time family friend Sharon Kingston.
Quite possibly one of the most accommodating, generous, kindhearted people which I
am so lucky to have in my life. She does everything above and beyond to make
sure we have a comfortable and enjoyable weekend in Yeppoon.
I had a bash at the 1500m open water swim on the Saturday
morning and spent some time with one of Glenn Skinner’s junior athletes. The
carb party was a humbling event. Sitting next to the amazing Katie Kelly, the
vision impaired triathlete who has just won Gold at the Rio Olympics. An
incredibly intelligent, friendly, positive and talented woman who is
progressively losing her sight and hearing, he is really someone people should
aspire to.
The race itself now seems like years ago. Quite an uneventful
race for me really. I swam okay in choppy as heck water, entered transition in
3rd, rode up into 2nd with a minute buffer and got caught
at 5km into the run.
During the run leg I kept in mind that I had a bigger race
in six days’ time and knew that I didn’t have run legs in me to regain 2nd
so I was content crossing the line in 3rd. A huge big thanks to
Glenn and Belinda for having me back again this year. Glenn, himself, comes
with a rocky health history and I fear that the stress of the event gave him
another brush with death, however, he was ever present during the weekend
giving nothing less than 110%.
With a quick turnaround I flew home that night
and was back at work the next morning. By Tuesday evening I was packing my bike
again and was back at the airport by Wednesday morning. I flew to Singapore and
was transferred across the border to Johor in Malaysia. Challenge Iskandar
Puteri was a first time race set in the Puteri Harbour. It was hot and humid,
but not as oppressive as I remember Malaysia to be. The hotel was pretty
schmick with a 25m pool, gym and transition pretty much outside the front door.
I rolled around the couple days leading up to the race feeling well recovered
from Yeppoon and very ready to see how I was going to perform over the half
ironman distance for the first time in over three years.
Race morning came around quickly and I was soon diving off
the pontoon with 7 other pro girls. I had a great swim coming out in 5th
place only a minute down on Renee and Kathryn. I knew Amelia and Radka would be
out well ahead but I had set a goal of top 5 for myself. I quickly made up my
deficit to Renee and Kathryn within the first 10km and was happy to swap legal
turns with them. I struggled a bit during the last lap and lost touch with them
around the 75km mark but only lost a minute to them going into T2.
I set off on the run, slowly. Very, very slowly. It was hot.
We were told in briefing that the aid stations would be 2km apart on the run
leg. I thought that was a stretch at best but when I ran through 2km without an
aid station in sight I really started to worry. The first aid station came at
3.5km. The second at 6km where I picked up a can of god-knows what which when I
tried to open it the ring top came off. Why have closed cans on a run course???
At this point I thought there is absolutely no way I could get through this
run, it was really getting tough. I somehow kept ticking off the kilometres and
could see at 7/8km that 6th was still over 8 minutes behind me and
not putting time in at all. Around 10km Belinda and Justin pulled up beside me
on a scooter,
“How you going Rach?” Asked Belinda,
“Not good. I’m really struggling,’
She offered me water and I questioned outside assistance.
“Of course you f&#king can, there’s no water out here,”
was her response, so I took a bottle from a guy on a scooter riding besides me.
I plugged on, made it back out onto the final stretch and
saw that 6th was now over 9 minutes behind me, even though I was
running at 5:15 pace! God it was hot. At aids stations I stopped to have the
volunteers pour ice into my bra top, take water, take soda, take whatever I
could get it. At 6km to go I told myself it was only just over 30minutes to get
to the finish line. I remember staggering past the 18km sign and I asked a
competitor heading out onto the run if I could have some of their water to
which they generously obliged. I also remember the sensation of stopping myself
from falling backwards, tripping sideways and suddenly feeling like I was
drunk. And then there was just black.
The next thing I remember is sitting up suddenly to
projectile vomit. Then nothing. Slowly I began to open my eyes as I could feel
sharp pains in the back of my left hand. I had an oxygen mask on, the room was
white and the fluorescent lights were blaring above me. I knew I was in a
hospital but had no idea why. I didn’t feel like I was in pain so I was
confused but couldn’t formulate words to ask what was happening. I looked
around at a number of unfamiliar faces before I saw Belinda standing beside me
telling me I was going to be okay. She reassured me that they were trying to
stabilise me. I was freezing, covered in cold blankets. Bit by bit I began to
process the information given to me. I had collapsed on course due to severe
dehydration resulting in exertional heatstroke. Apparently I had made it to 19.5km
but I have no recollections about how I got there. I had two IVs in, but they
had a lot of trouble finding veins as they had all collapsed which explained
the pricking sensation in my hands. My resting heart rate was 150! My normal
resting heart rate is less than 40 and I can’t even get my heart rate over 120
in the pool. My body temperature was 40, I was tachypneic (breathing rapidly)
and my kidneys were in a lot of trouble. The scariest part for me was the
aphasia. I was unable to formulate words, sentences or answer questions. I had
the words in my head, understood what was being said but I couldn’t get the
message out there. I thought, this is it, I’ve had a left sided CVA (stroke)
and I will be permanently impaired just because I wanted to do a silly triathlon
in Malaysia. Once I became more alert I managed a few slurred words to Belinda
and the doctors and when I could finally construct a sentence the first thing I
said to Belinda was, ‘I’m dumb,’ she laughed at me and said that it would pass.
Bit by bit I managed to get my words back, come to grips
with what was happening but I was still quite unaware of just how bad things
were. I probably didn’t really come to grips with how serious true heatstroke
is once I returned home and researched the full extent of the situation. I am
lucky I suppose, that I collapsed when I did because if it had of happened out
in the far ends of the course I could have been in some serious trouble. I
cannot thank Belinda and Justin Granger enough for being there with me. Belinda
has since told me that she thought I was going to die. It’s reassuring that I
didn’t and I cannot fault the medical treatment that I received at the hospital
in Malaysia.
I was moved to a ward to continue aggressive fluid
replacement and monitor my kidney function. My creatinine levels were 333
initially!!! (Normal ranges are between 54-88.) Within 22 hours my creatinine
levels had lowered to 89 which meant that I could leave hospital and still make
my flight home that night. The wonderful Nami Koh picked me up and took me back
to the hotel. Justin Granger had packed my bike so meticulously that I think he
could seriously do it for a job (Thanks Jusi!). A huge thanks too to my
roommate Monica who also packed my bags. I felt horribly weak and still very
dizzy due to low blood pressure and dehydration but I was so set on getting on
the plane that night. I got back to Brisbane and almost fainted in customs
before calling in sick to work (I was supposed to work that afternoon). I made
it home and slept for hours. For days all I could stomach was vegemite toast
and lemonade. I took a full week off training as directed by the doctors but I
honestly didn’t feel like doing anything for 10 days anyway.
My head is still getting back into the game. I am certainly
going to do a race or two before the end of the year but no grand plans for
next year as this point. My mind is heavily distracted with things outside of
doing triathlon. Work is getting busier by the day and is a much easier way for
me to earn a living! I am off to Tasmania to visit a friend in December,
Adelaide in January for the Tour Down Under with my younger brother and
planning a trip to Hawaii for a sports med conference so I’m not quite sure how
much racing will fit into my life next year. But that’s okay.
Rachie xo
