Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Inspiration and Dedication from a true Ironman Hero..


From Cancer to Kona
Christina Gandolfo profiles amazing Kona qualifier Andrew Johnston

Published Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Despite living with leukemia, Andrew Johnston has qualified for Hawaii and is racing on a mission to raise money, awareness and hope for those living with cancer.

It was mile 112 of the 2004 Ford Ironman USA Lake Placid bike leg, and Drew Johnston was tearing through the best triathlon of his life. In just his second-ever Ironman, the 32-year-old age grouper from Decatur, Georgia, was riding near the front of the field on a notoriously brutal course. He ended the bike in 20th place overall, looking primed to break the 10-hour mark.
But when he exited T2 and tried to run, Johnston’s stride was halted. Initially, he dismissed the bone and joint pain he felt as the ordinary “torment” anyone might experience during an Ironman. But with each step the severity of the aches worsened.

By mile 15 the pain was so severe forward motion was no longer an option. “With every step I took I felt like someone was hitting my legs with a baseball bat,” he remembers.

After coming so far - 129.4 miles to be exact - Johnston did the only thing possible: He stopped, stumbled off the two-lap run course, and called it a day. It was at that moment that his world came crashing down.

Not that he knew it then.

It would be weeks before Johnston understood the full impact of what happened in Lake Placid. When he learned the pains he suffered were triggered by his vascular system going terribly awry, a new reality became apparent -- his life had changed forever.

A hematologist/oncologist told Johnston that he had chronic myelogenous leukemia (CML). He also explained that if Johnston was lucky enough to survive the disease, odds were he’d live with it the rest of his life.

Two years later Johnston, now 34, is living with CML, a bone marrow cancer in which white blood cells begin growing normally but fail to mature and die as intended, thereby accumulating to dangerous levels which inhibit normal bone marrow cell growth. This puts the body at risk of life-threatening complications and infections.
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Aside from a bone marrow transplant -- an invasive procedure with many potential risks and complications -- there is no cure for CML. Those afflicted live with symptomatic treatments that have their own host of side effects.

For Johnston, a successful personal trainer and coach in Decatur, this means taking Gleevec daily, monthly blood testing at the Atlanta Cancer Care Center, and enduring excruciating bone marrow biopsies every six months at the M.D. Anderson Cancer Clinic in Houston, Texas, to monitor his cancer status.

While he is officially in molecular remission thanks to the “wonder drug” Gleevec, Johnston has been forever changed since his diagnosis.

The drug leaves him in a chronic state of anemia with resultant fatigue, a below normal white blood cell count, and uncontrollable muscle cramping that can strike at any time. It's happened while simply brushing his teeth or during long-distance triathlon racing, which Johnston returned to last year with impressive results that many healthy age groupers only dream of.

This past June, while competing at Ford Ironman Couer d’ Alene in Idaho, Johnston qualified for the Ford Ironman World Championship, despite enduring bouts of abdominal pain and intense hamstring cramping. He finished in 10:06, good enough to secure a roll-down slot to Hawaii.

“I qualified by the skin of my teeth,” Johnston will say. But after remembering that just 11 months prior he thought he’d never cross another finish line again, he reluctantly admits he’s proud of the effort.

For Johnston, being a successful endurance athlete comes down to mental fortitude and the belief that he’s one of the lucky ones.

“When I go for treatment and see people with no hair, in a wheelchair and with a mask covering their face I remember I’m blessed,” he says. “I wake up in the morning and tell myself I choose to be healthy, happy, confident and strong.”

However, Johnston admits there are times when he can’t help but think, “What if?” What if I’d discovered triathlon earlier? What if I hadn’t gotten sick?

These are natural questions for someone who once trained with the cycling team at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, Colo., and raced as a pro cyclist. After graduating from Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, Fla., in 1994 Johnston and his wife Diana set off for Europe where he raced as part of the Belgian Haverbeke GB team and later the Palafrugal and Homs squads in Spain.

But after enduring three separate concussions following peloton crashes -- the last of which left his speech slurred and short-term memory impaired for months -- Diana, by his side since they were high school sweethearts, told her husband that his cycling days were history. Arguing wasn’t an option.

A year later, after getting lost on the way to a mountain bike race he ended up finding his new athletic direction. On an impulse he called a friend who was doing a duathlon the following day.

“I said, 'Where’s the race? I’ll be there.'”

Johnston finished fourth overall in the run-bike-run event, and wondered if multisport was his calling. Knowing there were a greater number of opportunities to compete in triathlon, Johnston asked his wife -- a former competitive swimmer -- to teach him freestyle swimming.

“My strategy that first season (2001) was: ‘Don’t drown, kill ’em on the bike, and hang on for dear life on the run,’” Johnston says.

It worked. In his first season of triathlon racing Johnston placed in the top five overall in 10 out of 11 races; was named Georgia Olympic Distance Triathlon Champion; placed fifth at the National Iron-distance Championship (held at the Great Floridian); and the following year qualified for the World Long Course Triathon Championship. He was also named All American Triathlete three times by USA Triathlon.

After battling to regain his fitness despite his leukemia diagnosis, Johnston is primed to do the remarkable in completing the most revered triathlon in existence, the Ford Ironman World Championship.

He says a perfect race in Kona would mean breaking the 10-hour mark, but his only true objective is to finish amid the smiles, and no doubt a few tears, from the many supporters who have helped him fulfill a dream.

His massive support crew in Hawaii will include Diana (who will be more than halfway through her pregnancy with the couple’s first child), Johnston's mother, Bruce, who he calls his “biggest fan,” his sister, Heather and her family, one of his physicians, a handful of training partners, and if that weren’t enough, a film crew.

Johnston’s childhood friend, Jeff Keating, a screenwriter and filmmaker, is raising funds to produce a documentary about Johnston’s experience as a triathlete with CML. The film -- “Living is Winning: From Cancer to Kona” - will chronicle his journey to Hawaii.

And if he gets his way, Johnston says the film, along with his own personal efforts to raise $10,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, will not only raise awareness and money for CML, it will provide much-needed inspiration.

“My goal is to do some good and spread hope that cancer doesn’t have to mean stopping living,” he says. Spoken like a true champion.

To learn more about Johnston’s efforts to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, or to donate, go to: http://www.active.com/donate/tntga/tntgaAJohnst

To learn more about the documentary please go to http://www.doghousepictures.biz or contact Jeff Keating at jkeating@doghousepictures.biz

You may contact Christina Gandolfo at cgandolfo@ironman.com

Monday, August 3, 2009

Im just so tired...

Its that time of year agin when the training finally catches up with you and you ask yourself every morning...

Why in the WORLD don't I just sleep in and forget about all this!!!

Well...as tired as I am, I still get up and I still train. Don't get me wrong, there are A LOT of days where the battle rages on in my head about getting out there and getting the work done but usually, I will think of the finish line and all the other reasons I am doing this and it will get me there.

The hardest for me is when I miss time with my husband or my friends. This weekend, we were staying at Walt Disney World. My husband and friends went off to the parks while I went on a 2 hour run. Which would I have rather done?? Of course I would have loved to go ride some roller coasters but that dream is still in my head and my heart...so I give my husband a hug and a kiss and tell him Ill see him at the pool later.

I remember what taper madness felt like last year. I remember being in taper phase and going nuts so this also pushes me forward. These are the days that will decide if I will be an Ironman.

The heat here in Florida right now is just brutal making training that much more difficult. Its a darn good thing that I am a morning person because getting up early and getting on the road at or before sunrise makes a difference. My bike on Sunday in 93 degree heat was just rough but it would have been worse if I started at 8am instead of at 640am.

"Bleed in training so you won't bleed in battle..." I remember hearing a Navy Seal Instructor scream at his students in Coronado in May as they ran down the beach. Hmmm...it made me think. Train hard. Race easy.

So as I battle fatigue, the vision of the finish line is like a movie playing in my head. That is where I am headed....under 17 hours!!!

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Family and Ironman

***As you read the conversation, you must use your finest sweet southern accent when reading my mother's part***

Mom: Now, just how far do you swim in this thing, Missey?
Me: 2.4 miles Mom
Mom: Oh Heavens! You can't be serious?? and then??
Me: the bike Mom. You ride for 112 miles.
Mom: Missey, that's like going to Tampa (actually its farther..but please don't tell her that)
Me: Yes Mom...and then you run.
Mom: And how far is that?
Me: its a marathon Mom...26.2 miles.
Mom: This just can't be healthy! Missey, this is just crazy!!

And this is the conversation I have had with my mother about every other month since I decided to become an Ironman 2 1/2 years ago.

Now you can't blame her. She loves her daughter..and she's a worrier. She is scared that her only little girl is going to end up in the medical tent, the hospital or worse. I mean, give her a break. She has already had to sit through a conversation with my Doctor 11 years ago telling my family I didn't have a prayer of living past a year if I didn't consider the gastric bypass.

But what she doesn't understand is that Im in the best shape of my life. Im still overweight, but just like my doctor told me last week as I left his office still frustrated with weight issues and thyroid: "Melissa...it is better to be fit and fat...than thin and out of shape." "You have a strong heart, leaner muscles and a rock solid bone structure. You are in better shape than most of the women that walk through my door."

But Mom is going to worry. It's in her contract as a mother. I hate to see her like that so when she asks me about my weekend, I try to leave out details like : I ran 13 miles and did an 80 mile bike workout.

My concern now is that...Mom and Dad are considering attending Ironman Florida. Don't get me wrong. This is a HUGE STEP for them..in relation to me. A year ago, they didn't want to hear about the race. They didn't think it was proper for a southern lady to be doing such a thing so for them to want to support me is an honor. I am humbled....BUT...

And like the one I sit on, this is a BIG BUT...I think I would be so nervous with them there. I would be a total mess. I would be worried about them worrying about me!! My fear is I will be nervous and snap at them...or say something wrong...or do something wrong that would offend them.

Last year, I was a bundle of nerves. This year, my goal is to take one day and just be a mess...and then let it go in the knowledge that I have done all I can for my Ironman day and what will be will be.

Has anyone else had to make the decision of having their family attend or not attend their first ironman??

Monday, July 27, 2009

So what's on your handlebars?

Strange question? Sure it is....but if you're a triathlete, you might just know what I mean.

One of my FAVORITE things to do is to walk around a transition area prior to a race and look at all the bikes. It's amazing to me how different people are and what equipment people deem ABSOLUTELY necessary whether they are doing a sprint distance triathlon or an Ironman.

From walking around the Ironman Florida 70.3 transition area last year, I found a bike with the Speedfil bottle system on it and knew it would be perfect for me. It has a straw in your face that runs from a 40 oz bottle shaped in a triangle on a bracket on your downtube. From walking around St. Anthony's I got ideas on how to set up an efficient transition area and what people use for nutrition.

But what fascinated me the most was what people used on their bikes to motivate them. Not all bikes have something on them but there were those that used that opportunity of staring at your handle bars for hours to motivate themselves to go faster..to go farther.

So here are a few that I have read over the years:

At the Navy Seal Triathlon in Coronado CA: DON'T RING THE BELL!! (Ringing the bell three times at the Seal Team's Training Base means a Seal candidate wishes to quit the program)

At St. Anthony's in St. Petersburg, Fl: This is better than a hospital bed and chemo

At. Ironman Florida 70.3: FOCUS!! Don't forget: this is your dream!!

At Ironman Florida: Pain is temporary...Quitting is forever.

At Memphis in May Triathlon: A small replica of Thomas the Train hung from his handlebars with the words"I think I can..I think I can"

On my friend Rick's bike at every race: A piece of Lego building block with his son's name etched in the side hangs from his seat. He lost his child to Leukemia at age 8. Christian loved to build ANYTHING with Legos.

So what motivates you? For me...its so many things. This race is very symbolic for me. Tell me. What would you write on YOUR handlebars? Would the race be in memory of someone? Would you write your loved ones names that you will see at the finish line? A special quote that motivates you?? Your comments would help me decide what's on my handlebars.

Going the distance...

When I opened my Training Peaks this week, I knew that we were in the thick of the training schedule. It has become a tradition for myself and two other friends who are training for Ironman to compare what we are doing that week. One of my friends has another coach while the other is following his own plan as he has already completed Ironman Florida in 2007.

I shouldn't call it a comparison session...I should call it a bitch session...because that's what it is!! Bring on the cheese to go with the "whine" you hear from me as I stare down my weekend.

UGH! 12 mile run and an 80 mile bike!! Holy Saddle Sores Batman!! I'm happy to report I was not the only one enjoying the long distance workouts this week...the others were doing about the same.

It's hard training alone but I have made the revelation recently that this might help me at Ironman. There are going to be other racers and spectators but in the end, it's YOU. That's all. Just you and your thoughts and the battle of the mind vs. the body. So as much as I love my bike pedaling and road pounding Ironman dreamers, I headed out on my own both days.

5am...Saturday morning. I slam down the alarm clock and groaned. Immediately, the battle began. I could sleep in!! I could go get a wonderful breakfast with my husband while he is home. I could....and then reality sinks in....Ironman is in 105 days.

I struggle out of bed, make some coffee and get organized. Today will be a unique running day because Ill be running to my husband. This Saturday morning he is putting down the pilot hat and putting on the flight instructor hat as he teaches my middle brother how to fly. The plan was for me to run 12 miles from my home near downtown to the Orlando Executive Airport.

As the sun rose, I was on the pavement, Ipod on high and a goal to run at a steady pace for 12 miles. This means running 5-1's (5 minutes running 1 minute walking). The routine fell into place with no problem the first 9 miles. The next 3 miles were harsh. I don't know if it was lack of salt, the 87 degree heat or lack of nutrition but the engine just felt like it was not running on all the cylinders. I made it to the airport and sat for an hour while Steve finished the flight. I got some interesting looks because I certainly didn't look like I was getting on a plane ...and I definitely didn't smell like someone who would be boarding a private aircraft.

Steve arrived and laughed. "Oh my...we are sight to behold now aren't we" he said with a giggle!! I grumbled as I eased my weary body into the car. All I wanted was an ice bath and a nap.

I got home, took my ice bath, then my shower and settled in to watch Lance battle for 3rd place. I never made it all the way through the race before I was hard asleep on the couch. So are my weekend days now. Early morning LONG workout...and sleep in the afternoon.

My husband left on an evening flight for work and I had dinner with friends. They were all heading out for a wine tasting party, but I headed home. I had a long bike workout on Sunday.

Sunday morning at 4am arrived...and the process began again. I completed my ride but my legs were not as strong as they could have been. I made it 70 miles before I scampered for cover from another round of scary storms in the area.

Im making it through the workouts and Im trying very hard to envision myself at Ironman with every foot strike and every pedal stroke. I found that I talk to myself ALOT telling myself to push a little hard...a little faster...a little farther. I argue, I cry sometimes...but Hector is right. The person standing between me and my dream...is me!!!

I swear I need my head examined. Most people that talk to themselves as much as I did this weekend usually end up in a psych ward!!!

Friday, July 24, 2009

The fortune cookie...


Mend the first heartbreak, kill the doubting snake, conquer everything you undertake..


As my husband and I finished up eating at our favorite little Asian Bistro and Sushi Bar in our neighborhood of College Park, the waiter brought our bill and fortune cookies. "Cool...Dessert" I thought to myself as I ripped open then cellophane like a woman posessed!! A 25 calorie cookie is the perfect ending to a little sushi and hot tea.

The fortune stopped me dead in my tracks. My husband looked at me and he said I had this look of utter shock on my face. Combine the above with the fact that I redid my wall calendar for the next 120 days today and there was my red letter Ironman Day staring me in the face and this was all quite profound.

I WAS heartbroken last year. I tried so hard to put a positive spin on it but depression got the best of me for a little while. Through the months, Ive made peace with that. I've learned so much from the experience of another year of training. I am a better bike handler, a little stronger and a little more experienced at the longer distance workouts. It has all been good.

The "doubts" that still follow me around are like the snake in the grass. Time to exert some "pest control" and get rid of the negative forces in my head and in my life. Hector has told me that the one obstacle standing between me and my dream...is me!!

I do wanna conquer this distance and move on to other challenges. As I made out that wall calendar, it hit me that I haven't thought much beyond Ironman. I need to do planning beyond that spot in my life so that I KNOW I will accomplish this.

Tomorrow is a 12 mile run. Sunday is an 80 mile bike and a 5 mile run. Its going to be a tough weekend!!

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The face of determination...



I admit it ... I am a Lance Armstrong Fan.

Nope. That really doesn't quite capture how I feel about this particular person. I am an admirer of this man's determination, strength, focus, consistency and desire. His passion to find a cure for cancer is a passion we share. His abilities and talents are legend.

Here's the other great side of this guy: he's human. He's not a machine, he's not a doper. He's fought a cancer that many thought would take his life. Hell, even his Cofidis Cycling Team back in the day dropped him like a hot potato because they were certain he was going to expired.

He didn't.

I have met Lance. We have ridden together 3 times. He wouldn't know me from any other fundraiser except for the photo I brought him of my Godson, dressed in his favorite yellow cycling jersey and autographed for Lance. I told Christian that I was going to go see Lance and get him his autograph. Christian didn't think it was fair that Lance wouldn't get his autograph so we printed out his picture...complete with yellow jersey and the IV pole with the bags of chemo entering his veins....and he signed it.

Lance told me "that was the smiling face of determination."

The next year Christian was gone.

Lance remembered him. He remembered that face and signed a yellow jersey directly to Christian. That jersey is still on a teddy bear that sits in my workout room as a reminder.... You gotta fight!!

Today I ran 12 miles. So many things were on my mind. Running is so difficult for me but I am improving. I thought about Lance in his 8th tour clawing his way onto the podium and up one of the few mountaintop stages he has never won in the tour. There would be no yellow jersey for him today...but his determination was inspiring. I thought about how hard Christian fought to survive. He told his father he wanted to "live forever"..and he does in all the work that many of us do to find a cure so no family has to go through what his family endured.

I thought about how easy this Ironman is compared to fighting for your life. When you put it in that perspective...a little pain is temporary.....

Hope rides again...Livestrong!