I want candy!

Like most healthy teenage boys in the 80's I had a massive crush on Annabella, lead singer for Bow Wow Wow.  How does Annabella figure into my first post in over a month, you say? 

The other day I was pedaling furiously on the stationary bike at the ocean-view gym on the UCSC campus, rocking out to the 80's medley on my iPhone 3 that just refuses to die. I have a tendency to bounce around when listening to music, tap the bars, even belt out a chorus or two. If you know the song, the intro to 'I Want Candy' has a distinctive percussion sound that commands you to keep the beat.

While pedaling along to Annabella gyrating on the beach in my mind, a young student on the bike next to me waved his hand to get my attention. I removed my earbud and asked if there was a problem. He very politely and almost innocently asked me what I was listening to. I mentioned the song, which he'd clearly never heard of before. He was 18, 19 tops. 

Something about him struck me as genuine. He wasn't a smart ass kid messing with the middle aged guy at the college gym. He was just a nice, goofy kid trying to make conversation. Then he made a strange and confusing request. "You wanna switch?" he asked. I thought he meant the bikes, so I asked if his bike was broken. And he responded, "No, you wanna switch music?"

Normally I'd laugh off a request like this and keep on pedaling, but as far from left field as this kid came, he was oddly sincere. So I thought, what the hell. I handed over my iPhone 3 and he gave me his new fangled Android device, replete with contemporary rap and pop music. His choice in music seemed to represent the listening habits of the modern day teen, much like my vast collection of Dexy's Midnight Runners, Soft Cell and the Gap Band represented my teenage years.

With every song, this kid held up my phone and would either say, "This is a cool song!" or "I totally know this one!" He seemed excited to hear so many new-to-him songs, like he was discovering some dust covered records buried deep on a shelf in an old music store.

After around 20 minutes he jumped off his bike and we exchanged phones again. He simply said thanks, and scooted away. A strange, yet pure moment. 

Oh yeah, how am I doing? Pretty fucking decent. Still improving inch by inch and slowly getting my swag back. I just got back from a week in Amsterdam, and the flight out and back, while a bit unpleasant at times, wasn't a complete torture session. And as I progress on the stationary bike, it's looking like my goal of being on the road by spring is looking very optimistic.

To optimism, my friends!

Got tissue?

Three months ago I underwent a round of stem cell injections into my sacroiliac (SI) joints. If you've been following my blog you will recall I've also had a lifelong SI joint problem. It all came to a head about 18 months ago when I completely tore the joints while riding my bike.

Anyhoo, in the fall of 2013 I endured a series of platelet rich plasma (PRP) injections that didn't result in any improvements. This eventually led to my more serious quest towards surgery. When I first met with my Prolotherapy Doc she performed an ultrasound on my SI joints and literally gasped when she saw the images on her screen. "Oh my god!", she said. Apparently she had never seen an SI joint so severely damaged. A lifetime of crashing will evidently do a tap dance on your body.  Who knew.

Fast forward to Fall 2014 and my recovery from surgery wasn't improving at a rate I was satisfied with, so I contacted Dr. Alderman again and spoke with her about stem cell treatments. She explained that in some cases tissue can be completely devoid of cells, caused by repeated trauma where the body no longer sends healthy cells to repair a damaged area. Which explains why the PRP injections didn't help. PRP attaches itself to tissue only when there are cells present.

So she suggested we try stem cells, which is far more expensive, a bit more painful, but almost always more successful. Yesterday I met with Dr. Alderman to follow up and see how my SI joint was progressing. After checking out my joints under ultrasound she gasped again! But this time she was greeting with a much more pleasant looking image. In her own words, "You actually have tissue in your joints again."

I must admit, the before and after images from my ultrasound are pretty shocking. After being told what to look for, it was pretty clear that there was significant regrowth of tissue in my SI joint. She told me it usually takes a few months before patients start feeling real changes, and I'm right at three months. I've been slowly improving, and she said I will continue to improve over the next year. So hopefully 2015 will be the year of healing!

I'm still tight most of the time, and with the exception of this $#@!&%$ cough that's got my back tied in knots, my body is beginning to feel normal. I'd say it's feeling normal again, but I haven't been pain free in 25 years, so I'm feeling out this whole normal thing for the first time.

New disc, new joints. Two down, (fill in the blank) to go.

Peace out!

364 days

On January 1, 2014 I was laying in bed researching surgeons in Europe. I struggled to complete a few laps around the block and couldn't sleep through the night.

On December 31, 2014 I woke up after a good night sleep in my loft in the woods, Peanut the cat wrapped around my head, a bit achey and stiff, but much more mobile, and headed out for an 8 mile hike in my back yard. My back is a little wrecked right now, but my head is clear and my heart is full. And a few drinks tonight should help loosen things up.

I'm haven't met most of my (lofty) goals since surgery, but I'm closer now than I was 364 days ago. Hopefully by December 31, 2015 I'll be writing about my cycling adventures from the Sierras to Whistler.

Happy New Year, yall!

Merry Freakin' Christmas!

Xmas in LA

I'm back in the land of Milk and Honey for the holidays. Where a $100k Benz is as ubiquitous as a yellow cab in Manhattan. My cousin told me the police will fine you for driving a dirty car in Santa Monica. I've got at least $500 in bird poop collecting on the hood of my Fit.

As of Today, Christmas 2014, I'm 10 months post op. It's not been a linear recovery at all, but there have been some moments of clarity, and unfortunately a setback or two as well. A few weeks ago I pushed through a couple brutal days. My sacrum was on fire, but that may have been caused by the little slip and fall I experienced while walking down a slick wooden ramp. It was the first time since surgery that I've fallen down. And of course it had to be right smack onto my tailbone. I was more upset than anything else at the time, and there was no immediate pain from the impact. But a few days later things started to act up around my sacrum, burning as if I was sitting on a hot plate. Of course my mind started to venture into some dark places, but I maintained my cool and the pain subsided. At least now I know I can take a hit.

I get asked all the time, "How are you feeling?" I generally nod and politely say everything is good. I try not to talk about my back much since the pace at which my recovery is going can best be described as glacial. That, and I simply want to feel normal, and talking about my back ad nauseam erases any sense of normalcy I'm feverishly trying to cling to. Granted, a year ago I couldn't do half the things I'm doing today (more like 80%). But I'm nowhere near where I hoped I'd be. I'm not pedaling on the road as I'd planned, but I am riding the stationary bike, albeit with a fair level of discomfort. I can trot up flights of stairs and run uphill. And I use the word, 'run', loosely. Ever seen a flamingo run? It ain't pretty. I can maintain a HR of 165 bpm for a good stretch on the treadmill at a 15% incline. And my pool workouts are remaining strong and I can knock out a mile in the pool in just over half an hour.

My TRX workouts have been increasing with intensity, but I'm mindful to step back if anything isn't feeling 'right'. I can admit now that I pushed way too hard in the weeks after surgery, which I know held me back, so I'm trying to truly listen to my body speak to me and err on the side of caution.

I'm still shooting for spring to be back in the saddle, but that might even be optimistic considering the current pace of my recovery. But we'll blow up that bridge once we get to it. And since I like to set goals, what the hell...next July - DOWNIEVILLE! 

While out enjoying the SoCal sun this morning I saw this new mural on the back wall of the former Zephyr Surf and Skate shop (now Dogtown Coffee). It reminded me of a time as a little grommet, worshipping the likes of Jay Adams and Tony Alva. It's nice to see some of the local history remains.

Days of Dogtown

It also reminded me that you can take the grommet out of the Westside, but you can't take the Westside out of the grommet. No matter how hard you try.

Happy Holidays and a better New Year to all of me peoples!

- Ian

To everything, turn, turn, turn

There is a season, turn, turn, turn.

So, 9 months. The time it takes to give birth, finish a school year, or read War and Peace. That's how long, as of today, that I went under the knife. And day by day I get an ounce stronger and a measure happier.

As with everything in life, there's room for improvement. The health of my family could be far better. Certain close friends could be struggling less. The grand jury could have returned with a just verdict in Ferguson. But this is the real world, and life isn't always just.

I've also been dealing with a pinch of survivors guilt lately. If you've been reading my blog you will understand why. But it goes a little deeper than that. As my mother and uncle's health deteriorates (my uncle is struggling after a liver transplant), and I finally start to see improvements in my health, it's difficult for me to temper my optimism and happiness. But everything in life is a compromise, a balancing act, I guess. So I choose to appreciate what I have, while I have it.

When I first lived in Santa Cruz a generation ago I became friends with Matt during our first semester at Cabrillo College. We were in the same creative writing class where we pieced together overly saturated words hoping to charm women with deep poetry and brooding short stories. He was the far better writer, and we embarked on a years-long battle for the attention of teachers we both had crushes on with our tortured prose. We've always remained in touch over the years, and despite any distance or time apart we made sure to reconnect and catch each other up on life's trials and tribulations. He moved back to Santa Cruz last year, eventually convincing his soon-to-be wife (not a lot of arm twisting there) to join him, along with her three kids, so he could be closer to his family and his young son. That and who wouldn't want to live in Santa Cruz, I mean seriously.

There were three places on my list of destinations - Lake Tahoe, Bend, Oregon, and Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz eventually won out based in large part to the close friends I had who already lived here, not the least of which are Matt and Jen. Since moving back we've spent more time together in the past three months than we have in the past three years, and I've had the opportunity to play uncle to his beautiful son, Benjamin (love that kid!). I've also managed to sucker Matt and Jen into early morning workouts overlooking the ocean, which they are crushing by the way. I'm determined to have these two lean and ripped by the big day.

Welcome to the gun show!

Feel the burn!

Yeah, Santa Cruz doesn't suck.

One of my favorite things in life is seeing people reach a goal - get stronger, get smarter, basically just attempt new things. Succeeding at something, no matter how small that success might feel at that moment...it makes me feel good to see the sense of pride in the face of the person stepping outside their comfort zone.

No matter where I might be a year from now, 10 years from now, I'm grateful to have this time in my life to share with good friends, and I plan to appreciate every moment and look back with not a shred of regret.

Sometimes life kicks you in the stomach. You've got a choice - You can lay down and curl up in the dirt, or you can kick back and say, "That all you got?" 

To kicking back, my friends.

I can't get no...Satisfaction!

A few months ago, my incredibly talented and beautiful cousin Fanny and I were talking about what it takes to feel satisfied and generally happy in life. She and I both subscribe to the 'less is more' philosophy when it comes to the 'things' we're told from an early age that we need in order to feel satisfied.

Owning a big home, driving a slick car, or having a lot of money mean little to me. I don't care about collecting stuff or having more than I need. OK, I don't need 5 bicycles, but it's better than 5 cars! But Fanny said something during our conversation concerning what it means to be satisfied that I'll never forget. I'm paraphrasing, but she basically said if a scientist is always satisfied s/he might not strive to discover cures for diseases. If an engineer is always satisfied we might never have planes that can transport people around the world at 40,000 feet. If athletes are always satisfied we'd never see what's possible with the human body.

After absorbing this nugget I realized that satisfaction is fluid, it's a philosophy, open to interpretation, and something I need to hold onto with a looser grip. I also realized that being unsatisfied with things is OK, it's normal, especially where my recovery is concerned. It doesn't mean I can't celebrate small victories along the way, and I can be happy with my progress, but being less than satisfied is what's going to motivate me to continue moving forward.

My ultimate goal since day one has been getting back on the bike. Once I can pedal with intent, I'll be satisfied, or at least that's what I've been telling myself. But I know when (not if) that day comes I'll probably look towards something else just beyond my reach.

I'm 10 days shy of 9 months post op, and I'm having a much easier time navigating life these days. Where I really feel a difference are in basic movements that we all take for granted. A year ago when I opened the fridge I had to be careful how I bent over to pull out a quart of almond milk. One false move and a few friendly volts of electricity might surge across my low back forcing me to go to one knee. But these days I'm bending, twisting, rolling around with relative ease. I don't have to think before bending down to grab a shoe, and lifting slightly heavy objects has become a non-event. There's still that ever-present tightness, but the sharp pain is a memory.

On halloween a friend of mine got married (to another friend), and she asked me to walk her down the aisle. I was floored and honored by her request, and happy to be a part of her big day. But I was also a little nervous leading up to the big day. It meant a long night of sitting and standing and (gasp) dancing. Maybe it was the beer and wine, but I felt pretty good all night and managed to work up a decent sweat on the dance floor...the first time I've danced in longer than I care to remember. It was also the first time in well over a year that I felt normal, part of the crowd, where pain wasn't the first thing on my mind. I'd forgotten what that was like, and I got a taste. Now I want the whole god damn meal!

Here comes the bride!

My activity levels have steadily increased. I'm still knocking out 4-6 miles a week in the pool and have incorporated TRX training into my workouts, but I've curbed the hiking for a while. Along with disc problems, I've had a lifelong sacro-iliac (SI) joint injury. A chiropractor I've been seeing locally told me he's only seen one other patient with an SI joint as damaged as mine. Not the first time I've heard that.

So about 6 weeks ago I underwent stem cell injections into my SI joint. The doc removed fat from my left flank and extracted stem cells from the adipose tissue. There's discussion amongst doctors as to which is more effective, bone marrow or adipose derived stem cells. Bone marrow stem cells require culturing to achieve a sufficient number cells, whereas adipose tissue provides about 500x the number of stem cells over bone marrow, and the process is much less invasive and less expensive. She also mixed some PRP into the stem cell cocktail and injected it into my SI joint. Doc said it takes 2-3 months before seeing any real results, so I've got some time yet, but she advised against doing any aggressive hiking while the stem cells did their stuff to let the joints heal, so I'm just doing 30 minute sessions on the treadmill at 15% incline along with swimming until my SI joint has strengthened up.

Ironically it's my mid back and neck that are currently a bigger issue. But I'm hoping that's just transitional and will sort itself out. Gone are the days of feeling like I've got a foreign object in my spine. Basic day to day movements cause me no grief, but sitting all day at work and standing for longer than 15 minutes causes discomfort, but not the agonizing pain I experienced 3 months ago.

So little by little my life is beginning to return. I'm not satisfied, but I'll never be satisfied, and I'm fine with that.

Peace out!

One more trip around the sun

Tomorrow I'll complete 45 trips around the sun. It's customary for people to congratulate you on your birthday as if you actually earned something. I've always found it strange when someone offers ME a hearty congratulations, when the person they should really applaud is my mom. She's the one who forced a watermelon out of her uterus. So mom, congratulations! Forty five years ago you made me possible. You deserve all the credit.

So, it's been a while since I tickled you with my ramblings. Where am I? Doing OK, actually. As always, I'm never satisfied with my progress, but slowly moving in the right direction. I'm still dealing with this constant pressure that increases in severity with prolonged sitting and standing. But I'm able to lightly sprint up steep hills during my hikes, and I'm easily knocking out 80-100 laps in the pool at a spirited pace. I've been occasionally 'riding' the stationary bike, and while it feels great to turn a crank (even if I'm not moving) sitting basically motionless while I pedal is difficult for more than 30 minutes. But I'll take what I can get right now.

For those who've read most of my posts, this thread of being unsatisfied pops up frequently. I don't mean to give the wrong impression. My standards of recovery are just a bit higher than some. Before surgery I was active on a level slightly above the average Joe. So my idea of 'getting back to normal' might seem optimistic to some, but it's MY idea of normal that makes it difficult to accept anything less. I'm capable of enjoying activities with much less discomfort now than I could two months ago, and I appreciate every gain. But until I'm on the bike chasing my friends through the woods I won't be completely satisfied.

With that said, other areas of my life are a bowl of cherries! The new job I started a few weeks ago is awesome. I've got the freedom to work from home, and the crew I'm working with are fun and easy to collaborate with. I love living in the Santa Cruz mountains! I've got an amazing group of friends here and meeting more people every day. I have an endless network of trails right outside my front door and each morning when I'm out searching for new trails I stop and soak in how happy I feel at this moment in my life.

I hope happiness finds you as well. And on your next birthday call your mom and say thanks. She earned it.

Peace!