How Triathlon Saved My Life

As I was contemplating turning 55, I decided it was time to do two Ironman triathlons in one year. Even better, since I was your typical male triathlete, I decided to do it four weeks apart. The result was that I did Ironman Regensburg in Germany at the beginning of August and four weeks later Ironman Canada in Penticton, British Columbia, Canada.

Based on my results, I was determined to do even better the next year. Since I was splitting my time between Germany and California for business and personal reasons, I decided to visit the Preventive Care Center in Nürnberg because they had a good reputation for helping athletes improve based on real data. At the PCC, I went through a comprehensive series of tests ranging from lung capacity breathing into a mask in a closed telephone booth sized test rig, to lactic threshold testing with blood pricks on both the bike and the treadmill, to a complete body scan with Doppler ultrasound equipment. As an engineer, I found it actually quite fascinating to watch the screen and see the video of blood flowing through my arteries, the valves in my heart opening and closing, and hear the rushing sound of blood flowing through my arteries and veins. I also underwent a very thorough battery of blood tests to determine not just the usual cholesterol levels but also a variety of other markers.

Not surprisingly, my cardiovascular system was in good shape. However, in looking at the details of the ultrasound, the doctor commented on a slight discoloration in my thyroid. Based on that finding, I was sent off to nuclear medicine testing. That involved swallowing some fluid to enhance the quality of imaging of various parts of my body, particularly the thyroid. Based on the first round of results, I was asked to come back four weeks later.

When I went back to the PCC to discuss all the results, there was the usual good news about cardiovascular fitness, virtually no plaque in the arteries, and overall health. Then came the results from the nuclear medicine. The discoloration in my thyroid had been determined to be cancerous. When you're sitting in the doctor's office and first hear that word, it takes a few seconds for your brain to process. You contrast your whole self-perception as an athlete, especially as an Ironman triathlete, with that single word that has the potential to change your life. Once the shock of the announcement passed, my analytical engineering brain took over and I started to ask questions about options and possibilities.

The good news was that because of the quality of testing, it appeared to be a cancer that was confined to the only one side of the thyroid. There would need to be additional MRI testing to confirm that the cancer had not metastasized into any of the surrounding lymph nodes. Given the type of cancer, and the stage at which it had been detected, radiation therapy was not possible but surgery was a good possibility. They then give you the usual warnings that if something goes wrong in the surgery you may never be able to speak again or may have nerve damage.

Armed with that cheery thought, I decided to go ahead with surgery sooner as opposed to later. It was all a bit surreal in that given the risks, you do, in one sense, say goodbye to your loved ones because you don't know who you will be when you come out of the surgery. On the other hand, given the volume of operations the head surgeon had done, I was essentially at peace. When I awoke, the world seemed much as it had been before the anesthetic, aside from some tubes protruding from my throat. I remember thinking of myself as the Monster in Young Frankenstein, with my own “zipper neck”. Remarkably, three days later, I was discharged and told not to exercise vigorously for two weeks. I could, however, walk and once the stitches came out, could start swimming again and go for leisurely bike rides.

Four months later, I was at the Wildflower Long Course as though relatively nothing had happened and three months after that I was back at Ironman Canada.

The normal course of this type of thyroid cancer is that it continues to grow until it metastasizes into various parts of the body, particularly into the pancreas and other vital organs. It often has a relatively symptomless progression until it hits the other organs. Had I just gone to the usual annual physical, it would not have been detected for a couple of years until the only treatment would have been probably a six-month round of chemotherapy with limited possibility of success.

Thanks to triathlon, I was motivated to know as much as possible about the functioning of my body and a detailed interest in how all parts of the body work to produce an optimal result. This drive for knowledge led me to seek out a detailed testing lab such as the Preventive Care Center to understand the hard numbers so that I would have a structured basis for building a training plan on real data rather than wishful thinking. Had I not gone through such detailed testing, driven by my desire to be a better triathlete, I might well not be in a position to write this blog today. So in that sense, I owe my life, particularly my quality of life today, to triathlon.