how to deal with orthopedic surgery: before and after

Recently, a friend of mine suggested I post a guide for people dealing with orthopedic surgery. After all, it’s traumatic, life-disrupting, frustrating, and mysterious.

As #projectfemur is an orthopedic adventure – and one that is ongoing, with new chapters ahead – I thought that it would be good to get this stuff down in writing. So here, without any further ado, is my basic guide (and it will evolve over time, as I remember more key points):

  1. Enter with a positive attitude. You’re getting the surgery regardless, so you might as well embrace the situation and enter with optimism, smiles, and a sense of humor.
  2. Don’t be afraid to ask your doctors tough questions before surgery. They are there to help, and for some people – especially for me – I like to know what’s going to happen. I’ve had some great Q&A sessions with admit nurses, anesthesiologists, X-ray techs, and my surgeons. Some of the questions are totally banal, others are quite serious and complex – and all received thoughtful, appropriate answers.
  3. During the first 24 to 48 hours after surgery, you likely won’t feel quite like yourself. Anesthesia, opioid pain killers, nerve blocks, and the like wreak havoc with your mind. They can give you a false sense of happiness, can make you queasy, and can even make you do things you would never do when sober. There’s a good reason most hospitals make you sign a document stating that they can’t be held responsible for any decisions you make while under the influence of anesthesia.
  4. Follow your doctor’s/physical therapist’s recovery prescription to the letter. Don’t rush the recovery. Your body won’t always communicate what’s going on (especially when you are on the high-level pain meds), so it’s best to be conservative and let things heal. Orthopedic surgery is traumatic, and the body responds to trauma by slowing itself down, concentrating its energy on healing things.
  5. Manage your pain. Trust me on this: it’s always best to be ahead of the pain curve, especially in the early days of recovery. Pain often creates more problems than it solves, including biomechanical compensation that can lead to new or further injuries. And for some people pain is a good indicator of progress in healing, or that a move you’re trying to do isn’t smart. But this isn’t about completely eliminating pain, but managing your pain. So lay off the heavy-duty painkillers as soon as you can, but the non-addictive ones? They’re good to have by your side.
  6. Get rest. Sleep when your body says it needs to sleep. The rest will help with recovery, and will also help you during your awake periods when you’ll need the energy for PT, day-to-day life, and socializing.
  7. Eat healthy food before and after the surgery. Sure, have some treats here and there – you will crave and, frankly, need them after all you’ve been through. But it’s best to stick with healthy, balanced, real food meals. Eat complete proteins. Make sure you get all of your necessary vitamins in your diet. Lay off the alcohol for a bit (at least lay off the second drink, and if you are on opioids or high-dose acetaminophen, try and abstain completely). You’ll heal faster, have more energy, and will gain less weight while you’re down.
  8. Realize that your body will be different after the surgery. Things won’t necessarily work like they did before Your biomechanics will be changed. Accept this as a welcome challenge, because you will get better and learn how to work with your renewed body parts.
  9. Accept that there can – and likely will – be setbacks. Have patience. Be ready for them, and treat them as speed bumps. Be honest with your friends and loved ones – and most of all, yourself – about the setbacks and related frustrations. They will pass, given time.
  10. Smile a lot, and have a sense of humor about the situation. Attitude is everything! Honestly, this is possibly the biggest key to maintaining composure and optimism during the throes of recovery. When in doubt, read a favorite pick-me-up book or watch a go-to movie or TV series. For me, the James Bond films were must-see recovery fodder after both of my surgeries.

Like I said earlier, there’s bound to be more – that’s just what I can rattle off right now.

Have any advice? Leave it in the comments!

(The picture at the top is from January 2014, during my recovery from the original #projectfemur surgery, when my friends Mary, Ed, Ryan, and Ted stopped by for a visit.)

#projectfemur: my hip is now missing a couple of bits… for the better

My hip/femur is now a few grams lighter. There’s less pain and more mobility. #projectfemur – for now – feels quite a bit better.

Sixteen days ago, Dr. Faucett removed some of the hardware from my January 2014 reconstructive surgery. As I wrote about in my previous post, the screws that bound my femoral head to the rod that aligned my broken femur had made their way into my hip capsule, playing bundles of nerves like a guitar pick on a string.

It was painful, to say the least. Standing up, sitting down, lifting my leg, walking, running, skiing – it all hurt. In the weeks leading into this most recent surgery, even riding my bike was painful. The nerves were so aggravated on a ride one week prior to my surgery that my entire right leg went numb, and I had to ride 25 miles back to DC more-or-less on one leg’s worth of power.

No more screws
Look ma: no more screws!

The surgery was a laparoscopic procedure, minimally invasive. One screw came out without a hitch, while the other brought a bit of dead bone with it on the way out so I wasn’t able to keep it. There was a ton of post-operative swelling: laparoscopy requires a lot of fluid to be flushed through the working area to provide a view for the camera, so the incisions drained for the better part of 30 hours. It was painful at first, and awkward.

But the pain soon subsided (I was off of the opioids within a couple of days, save for a few nights’ worth to aid sleep comfort during the heat wave), the swelling went down, and mobility returned to my leg rather quickly. I’m on a prescription NSAID (Celebrex, FWIW) that’s keeping any latent pain in check, but there isn’t a lot of pain to be found. I was cleared to bear full weight on the leg from the get-go, and graduated from two crutches to one within a week.

So things are better, much better.

However, the nerve pain being greatly reduced shows me how much biomechanical compensation I’ve introduced into my walking over the past year. My right hip flexor, gluteus, adductors, and hamstrings are very weak, and my right abductor is smaller than its left counterpart. In fact, my upper leg is one inch smaller in diameter than the left, and both legs are very lean right now. Below the knee, things are just about equal.

Two legs, two sizes
My legs as of August 31, 2016: one is smaller than the other…

So I know what work I need to do in the next two months: get the right leg back into shape and try to get back some of the flexibility it had before necrosis set in. I know not to expect 100 percent pre-injury mobility, and that even 100 percent pre-injury strength is tough given the femur is still eroding. But getting things into shape, and closer to equilibrium, is key, whether I’m heading into a full ski season this winter or a total hip replacement just after Halloween (the timeline depends on how pain levels even out over the next 4-6 weeks, but I’m optimistic).

Dr. Faucett says it’s now entirely my own timeline to write, and I have a prescription for physical therapy to help along the problem areas. The muscles are already saying “thank you” to me in anticipation.

I’ll be researching orthopedists to do my total hip replacement. I have two primary parameters: the orthopedist must be well versed in revisions of previous hip replacements (i.e. compensating for already-compromised and rebuilt joints), and must be good at rebuilding the hips of impact sport athletes. I will leave no stone unturned in finding the right surgeon and the right replacement hardware for my needs.

Until then, I’m back on the bike, starting tonight at the penultimate “Downtown Breakaway” for the year. It’s a ride I organize every year, and I’ve missed the last two weeks due to the surgery. While I won’t be at 100 percent, it’ll be good to be back out there on two wheels with my friends.

Stay tuned…

#projectfemur turns 2.0: osteonecrosis

I know, I know: it’s been a long while since my last update on… well, anything. For this, I apologize.

Heck, two years ago this week, I went on one of my first club bike rides after my surgery.

First club ride after surgery, August 9, 2014.

It was awesome – as was the 2015 riding season!

During the 2015-16 winter season, I had a really successful alpine ski coaching experience, helping my athletes qualify for elite regional championship competitions.

Coach Rudi at Sunday River, March 2016

That rocked!

But there was a specter lurking in the background. It is a single word:

osteonecrosis

Also known as avascular necrosis, it’s a condition where blood supply gets cut off within a bone, causing the bone to die. It is caused by any number of things, and I’m not sure how I happened to develop it, but it’s there, clear as day, in my femoral head.

Avascular necrosis has taken over my femoral head - not good.
Avascular necrosis has taken over my femoral head – not good.

How did my discovery of this come about?

Let’s do a quick recap:

After my one year surgery anniversary, things were good:

My femoral head, one year after its repair.
My femoral head, one year after its repair.

See that nice, round femoral head? See the clean mending of where I was once broken in two? All good!

I skied in 2014-15. I rode my bike a lot once I was free to ride outdoors. I hiked. I ran.

But then things went off the rails.

Back around Thanksgiving of 2015, I started to feel a bit of pain and catching in my right hip. It was here-and-gone stuff, and while my hip had always been a bit stiff in the morning, until then it had been able to get into the swing of things rather quickly on most days.

But by late November, the pain was more intense, sharper, and sustained. Sure, it would go away after a little while, but sometimes it would just stay there all day. Ibuprofen would calm the pain most of the time, but not all of the time. And I’d get a real nerve pinch down my adductor (I believed this to be a lingering side-effect of tearing said adductor a few years before my femur break).

As the ski season commenced, the pain continued to intensify. When I flew out to Utah for a USSA certification clinic, some of the on-snow exercises were tough to pull off. I noticed a decreasing ability to lift my right leg laterally. Every afternoon after the skiing was over, I’d spend time in the hot tub at my hotel, then stretch to try and loosen my hip, often to only semi-successful levels.

During a bike ride over the Christmas holidays in Connecticut, my right adductor would lock up in a painful way, and my hip would mis-track, causing my entire pedal stroke to degrade into spasmodic chaos – no fun. And a ski camp that occurred immediately thereafter was equally pain-laden, though skiing wasn’t too difficult to pull off without pain.

However, as the ski season continued (I was coaching four days per week all season long, sometimes more during intense racing times, from January through mid-March), the pain grew, the pain medications were less effective, and certain activities required in my work (e.g. having to drive long-ish distances to racing venues, skiing with large, heavy bundles of slalom gates, etc.) became downright excruciating. I’d demonstrate skills to my racers, trying to mask the pain in my expression. I even fell on the screws that attached my femoral head during the initial healing time, which was not pleasant at all, smarting for weeks.

Every day was masked in hip pain that would, at times, radiate down my leg. My walking gait became so labored and awkward that everybody could tell something was wrong. At least on a bike, I could be more-or-less normal, my December pain eventually subsiding as I began to ride more in the spring. But my range of motion in my right leg was compromised, catching in painful ways and making me feel like an old, helpless man.

Eventually, I had to clear things up with my orthopedist. X-rays happened, finding that one of the screws in the femoral head had been knocked through the head, the tip impinging my hip socket and possibly dragging over nerve bundles that travel down my leg. My doctor thought this could be part of the cause of the pain, and said that the screws should come out – a simple outpatient procedure.

My femoral head as of June 2016.
My femoral head as of June 2016.

Worrying both my doctor and me, though, was a random bone fragment that showed itself on another X-ray. As X-rays don’t show things in three dimensions, he ordered a CT scan for my right hip. I had it performed at GW Hospital, in their latest CT scanner (a very quiet machine).

When my doctor called me two days later from an out-of-town conference, I knew things were not good.

He kept it simple: I had osteonecrosis, and am facing total hip replacement.

Fuck. Damn. Shit. Why? How? Fuuuuuuuuck!

I received this news a few days before departing for a week long family vacation at Cape Cod, which left me plenty of time to digest this news and start researching my options. There is a lot to learn about hip replacement, that’s for sure!

The long and short: I’ll get back my leg length and range of motion with any hip replacement method, which is a big plus. The minus is that anything other than basic cruising on alpine skis is highly discouraged, as it can displace, dislocate, or fully break the replacement hip. I hope to speak with some elite ski coaches who have had THR to get their perspectives on living with a replacement hip as a high-level skier.

I’ve since seen a second orthopedist to get a second opinion – major medical things like this should get a second opinion – and he confirmed the same diagnosis as my original doctor. He did, however, recommend having the hardware from #projectfemur removed first (the same thing my original orthopedist recommended), allowing the femur to adjust to a non-titanium-enhanced state and to prevent possible infection of the marrow channel if I get a total hip replacement during the same surgery.

And that’s what I’m going to do this coming Monday, August 15th, with my original doctor, Dr. Faucett, doing the honors. It’s a short, outpatient procedure, and recovery should be fairly quick. Hopefully, getting the screws out of my hip socket will alleviate much of the leg pain I have these days – and it is a lot of pain, lemme tell ‘ya!

But I look forward to this next chapter of #projectfemur – and yes, it’ll need a new hashtag. I’ll figure that out sometime soon.

Once the incisions heal and swelling subsides from this upcoming surgery, I’ll assess my pain levels. And I’m going to keep riding my bike – something that’s encouraged by both doctors to maintain strength and cardiovascular health (trust me, I don’t want another pulmonary embolism or similar issue). I’ll be on crutches for a few days, then a cane, then just plain walking again.

And then the bike – definitely the bike.

It’ll be a minimum of two months before I dive into the more major procedure of total hip replacement. Hopefully I’ll get enough pain relief to delay this until spring of 2017 – and thus will be able to ski and perform my coaching duties more-or-less as usual. If not, surgery will likely happen later in the fall, and I’ll be coaching from a lawn chair. I’m up to the challenge, either way.

But right now my focus is on Monday’s surgery. And I apologize in advance to the ski team’s board of directors: I may be a bit groggy during the evening conference call that evening. Heheheheh…

A Chapter Closes in My Life (i.e. Thanks, Dave!)

A quick post (yeah, it’s been too long) about the retirement of David Letterman:

As most people know, Letterman left NBC on less-than-happy terms in the spring of 1993.

I left Salt Lake City, Utah, for Connecticut (for both happy and less-than-happy reasons) in August of 1993.

And the week after I arrived in Connecticut after a cross-country journey in my little Dodge Raider, Dave launched The Late Show with David Letterman on CBS (“the Tiffany network”).

I remember watching his first CBS shows from the living room of the group house I called home in Rocky Hill. I had just signed on to a job (Assistant Manager at the Wethersfield outlet of Strawberries Music), and was relieved to have found a source of income. Everything would be OK.

I sensed the same relief in Dave’s first week of CBS shows: he’d landed on his feet, and everything would be OK.

Now Dave has ended his 33 year experiment on television, from his fitful start on daytime TV, to two successful, groundbreaking, thoroughly enjoyable late night shows that blew apart the paradigm set by Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show. He was equal parts silly teenager and old grump, wearing his flaws on his sleeve and able to parry and dodge with the most evasive of guests. He was a master interviewer when he chose to be, and a first-rate smart ass just as often.

Along the way, he moved the goalposts for all late night television hosts to follow. The Jimmys (Fallon and Kimmel), Conan O’Brien, Seth Myers, Craig Kilborn, Craig Ferguson, and James Corden all owe their shows to Dave.

(A special nod to Craig Ferguson, to my eyes the only late night host to push the medium beyond Dave’s model by further deconstructing the tried-and-true Carson formula.)

His final episode ran long, and rightfully so. He didn’t want to leave any member of his Worldwide Pants family unrecognized. He wanted to give the CBS Orchestra (still the World’s Most Dangerous Band) their full due. His face beamed when he recognized his wife and son in the audience. And he let the Foo Fighters play him out.

I feel lucky to have attended two tapings of Dave’s show, both times with Sam, back in the late 1990s, both times ending up in the 3rd row, right in front of Dave’s desk (I must’ve impressed the producers who interview the audience while it queues in the lobby to score great seats twice). Seeing the show in person was a treat, especially hearing Paul Shaffer and the band play full-length songs. These are NYC memories I’ll always cherish.

With Dave leaving the TV landscape, a chapter in my life comes to a close. It happens shortly after another chapter in my life closed (my job at Georgetown University), so it seems strangely appropriate.

So thank you, Dave. May your retirement be full of happy memories with Harry and Regina.

the one year anniversary of #projectfemur: quite the ride

It’s now been a whole year since #projectfemur began.

On January 11, 2014, a simple, tumbling fall while trying to avoid hitting a tree brought forth a broken femur, surgery, bilateral pulmonary embolism, and months of tough physical therapy.

One year later, I’m essentially back to normal. The leg is strong. I’m walking and running normally. My flexibility is closer to my “normal” every day. I’m riding my bike again. I’m back on skis and smiling every time I carve a high-speed GS turn on hardpack or ski the trees through deep powder.

I have many people to thank for this. My orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Scott Faucett, put me back together again with skill and kindness. The doctors and physical therapists at MedStar National Rehabilitation Hospital (especially Claire and Katie, my OT and PT, respectively) kicked my butt (and my arms) back into shape. The pulmonologists at George Washington University Hospital helped me through my pulmonary embolisms. And the superior physical therapy skills of Scott Epsley and Megan Poll at MedStar Georgetown University Hospital have finessed my stride and balance back to full power.

Most of all, though, I need to thank my family and friends for being there throughout this injury and recovery. From sprite and her undying love and support, even when I’ve been a really annoying, petulant, or grumpy gus, to my mom and dad and sprite’s folks, the family support has been nothing but awesome. And to all of the friends who called, wrote, visited me in the hospital, took me to lunch, lent an empathetic ear, and made me smile and laugh when I felt like crap: you are all rock stars and I love you all.

It’s been a long, strange year, full of ups and downs. I’ve learned a lot about myself and my potential, and I’ll be channeling this resolve quite a bit in 2015. #projectfemur is a way of life for me now, a rallying call, and as I continue to heal and progress, it’s an arrow in my life’s quiver.

And how did I spend the day today, you may ask? I was coaching the Liberty Mountain Racing Team athletes, even taking on Lower Ultra with some high-speed GS turns, smiling the whole time, thanking all of the ski patrollers I saw. Many remember my case from last year, and they smiled back knowingly. The image at the top of this post was snapped this morning, just after arriving at Liberty Mountain for my coaching day.

Days since injury: 366
Days since surgery: 365

last call 2014: a (somewhat little known) tradition continues

For the past 10 years, I’ve had a year-end music mix that I give to friends and family. It started out as That Was The Year That Was, a compilation of favorite tracks from the previous year, with the title copped from a Tom Lehrer LP. Starting in 2005, it became Last Call, and that name stuck.

The whole thing started out as a CD (remember those?), and some years it spanned two discs. Of late, I’ve only rattled off one hard copy for sprite’s dad, and otherwise have distributed the mix via the Internet as MP3 files.

This year, in addition to the MP3 version and the one-off-CD, I’ve decided to use online streaming services to share the mix with you. Aside from one track (where I offer a substitute of the same song by the same act), everything is out there.

“Little Maggie” – Robert Plant

This is the opening track from my favorite album of 2014, lullaby and… The Ceaseless Roar (weird capitalization intentional). Plant’s extended U.S. journey complete, he recorded this album back in the UK, fusing his worldwide influences to traditional English songs. The sound is an intoxicating blend of beats and blues.

“Cherry Licorice” – The Felice Brothers

This brother act sounds like a modern day interpretation of late-60s Dylan, perhaps with a bit more harmony and the ability to carry a tune. They playfully jangle through their songs.

“The Ghost of Tom Joad” – Bruce Springsteen

This was the title track on Springsteen’s all-acoustic album from 2xxx, but here the song is reinvented around part-time E Streeter Tom Novello’s searing lead guitar.

“Nervana” – Pink Floyd

This is a bonus track from the album that most – including me – never thought would happen. I like this track because it centers on the interplay between Gilmour, Wright, and Mason: it’s a truly collaborative effort, and it shines as a result.

“Digital Witness” – St. Vincent

My runner-up for album of the year is St. Vincent’s eponymous album. Annie Clark’s songwriting is at full power on this album, and the whole collection of songs is a tour de force. This particular track, about the often disconcerting influence of the rapid-fire digital information age, grabs you and shakes you – awesome stuff.

“Word Crimes” – “Weird Al” Yankovic

Robin Thicke’s “original” (which was a note-for-note reworking of a Marvin Gaye song, according to an in-progress lawsuit) is a misogynist’s wet dream. Yankovic decides to write about poor grammar, and the song improves one hundred percent – if not more.

“Invisible (RED Edit)” – U2

The best song the boys from Dublin released in 2014 never made their album. They performed this song live during the premiere episode of Jimmy Fallon’s reboot of The Tonight Show. Given Bono’s recent bicycle accident, it may have been the band’s last performance of this song for a while.

“Bad Self Portraits” – Lake Street Dive

This band has such talent, and they showcase it in full force on their 2014 album, Bad Self Portraits. I hear they put on a great live show, too, though I’ve not had the chance to see them yet. I do know that their live gigs sell out quickly, so if you hear that they’re coming to your town, it’s best to snap up the tickets quickly.

“Your Love Is Killing Me” – Sharon Van Etten

Sharon Van Etten is developing into a wonderfully complex singer-songwriter, and her latest album, Are We There, shows a new level of maturity and depth of themes (not that she was lacking either in her previous work).

“Bad Dream (The Theme)” – Nick Thorburn

Did you listen to the Serial podcast? If so, you’ll recognize this track as the show’s theme. It’s simple and spare, and worked well for the show (and for this mix).

“Maggie Said” – Natalie Merchant

I’m not normally a fan of Natalie Merchant (her singing through and then past the note isn’t my cuppa), but this is a great song and ties in well with the opening track of this collection. So…. here it is.

“All About That Bass (feat. Kate Davis)” – Postmodern Jukebox

Sure, Meagan Trainor’s version was the hit, but this trad jazz interpretation is such fun, and brings a more mature, smoky angle to the hit song. I chose to use the YouTube version here because you see the band performing it live (and this is the recording on the official release, as well).

“Down In The Willow Garden (Take One – Electric)” – The Everly Brothers

Sadly not available online, this is a recently-unearthed gem from the 2014 reissue of their Songs Our Daddy Taught Us LP. Last year, Billie Joe Armstrong and Norah Jones covered this album, track for track. If you can track down this CD, it’s worth the money. For now, here’s one of Don and Phil’s last live performances of the song, dating back to 2005.

“Going To California (mandolin & guitar mix)” – Led Zeppelin

Jimmy Page has been on a slow march remastering kick for the Led Zeppelin catalog, and the remaster of their incredible fourth album was released in 2014. While the bonus tracks weren’t quite as amazing as I (and many other fans) hoped, the instrumental-only versions of the two acoustic songs on the album are sonic gems.

“Waitress Song” – First Aid Kit

They’re Swedes! They’re sisters! And the harmonies they produce are simply stunning. This is an act that rocketed up the charts in 2014, and while they’d likely be a perfect fit for, say, the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, methinks they’re now a bit… big for such an event.

“A Sky Full Of Stars” – Coldplay

While Coldplay’s latest album isn’t quite as strong as their previous work, it’s not really lacking, either. This song is fairly standard Chris Martin fare, and it bounces along nicely.

“Real Love” – Tom Odell

The British retailer, John Lewis, is known for gorgeous holiday adverts. 2014’s ad featured this haunting version of John Lennon’s “Real Love,” and the moment I heard this rendition it was stuck in my mind – superb.

“Hope For The Future” – Paul McCartney

Macca’s big release for 2014 was a song for… a video game. Destiny was one of the big video game releases of the year, and somehow Macca landed a track in the game. The video features the Fab singer in the game’s environment as a hologram. And the sentiment of the song matches my theme for 2015…

Happy New Year, one and all!

Last Call 2014 cover

bringing it all back home: #projectfemur hits the slopes

Well, it was bound to happen: last Saturday, I donned my trusty Lange boots, clicked into a well-worn pair of skis, and got on a chairlift.

Destination: to ski again, this time at Mount Snow, Vermont.

I happened to be up north for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, staying with sprite’s folks in north-central Connecticut. We drove up to Connecticut in a winter storm that produced much rain, freezing rain, sleet, graupel, and snow, arriving to a wet, 5-inch accumulation in Connecticut. But that same storm dumped 12-14 inches of fresh, fluffy snow on top of a very good man-made base at Mount Snow, so my choice of venue made sense. Also, it’s only 90-or-so minutes from sprite’s folks’ place, so the drive isn’t an all-day time suck.

I arrived at the resort about 20 minutes before the lifts started turning, and there was already a large queue at the Bluebird Express lift, the only chair serving the summit of the mountain. That was fine by me, as I wanted to start my day on something a bit less of a full commitment. So, after picking up my lift ticket (pro tip: buy online in advance, it saves a decent amount of money), I donned my skis, tightened the strap on my new Briko helmet, and proceeded to the Canyon Express lift, which serves the lower half of Mount Snow’s front face.

As I rode solo on the lift (all of the crowd – and I mean all of it – was heading toward the summit on Bluebird), I surveyed the open terrain: two rolling intermediate-level slopes, recently groomed, with excellent snow cover. I assessed my legs, and both seemed up to the task. I did have a little trepidation, as I wasn’t able to get a needed shim installed on my right boot to compensate for the loss of femoral length (1.5 cm) on #projectfemur. But this was going to be a low-key, low-speed day, so being a little bit out of balance wasn’t a big deal.

Most of all: I was elated to be back on skis!

As I promised myself and friends, I took it easy. The lack of shims on my right boot meant that turns involving said foot would be awkward, and that flat-footed gliding would be nigh-on-impossible. But, just like riding a bike, the feel came back. My back wasn’t in the best of shape (strained it a week prior), so I decided to mete out my runs in small chunks. Eventually, I waded into the crowd to catch a ride to the summit, where I snapped the panorama you see at the top of this post – it was a beautiful day, ideal for skiing and being outdoors.

After three runs of short-swing, slow GS turns, and stance drills, I retreated to the base lodge for coffee and some light stretching while I waited for the lunch spot to open. I figured that taking an early lunch would allow me to enjoy shorter queues as the crowds ate.

As you can see, the queue for Bluebird Express was quite large while I ate my chili and enjoyed a local microbrew (and Canyon Express was handling the overflow, and had a decently long queue, as well):

After lunch, I decided to explore more of the open terrain at the mountain, heading over to the Carinthia area. Yes, it’s technically a terrain park, but this early in the season most of the runs are groomed, without the rails, jumps, and other trappings of the park crowd. The snow was soft and easy on my legs and back, and I was able to enjoy a slow ride up one of the few old-school, fixed grip lifts remaining at Mount Snow.

I skied until 1:45pm or so, as my lower back started to ache and impede my skiing motions. I managed nine runs for the day, soaking in each one as I did my first outdoor bike rides back in August. There was a lot of smiling, laughing, and joyful yodeling easily traced back to me.

Yes, there’s work to be done – namely, getting my right boot shimmed and re-aligned to the new reality of #projectfemur. But it was skiing, it was brilliant, I was back in my element – home, again.

use the road safely (in memory of sam felder)

One year ago today, my friend, Sam Felder, was riding his bicycle to work, as he did most days. He said goodbye to his wife and daughter, then set off for his office at Facebook.

Only on November 18, 2013, he never arrived at work. Instead, he was struck by a car at a dangerous intersection. He suffered severe brain trauma, spent time in multiple hospitals and rehab centers, and eventually succumbed to his injuries on April 11, 2014.

Given I’m a year-round bicycle commuter, and given Sam was a big-time proponent of using a bicycle for everyday tasks (and for making the roads safe for everybody), here’s my plea to all users of the road:

If you drive a car/van/truck, please be mindful of your fellow road users, especially the most vulnerable: pedestrians and cyclists. Obey the posted speed limits. Stop at all stop signs and red lights. Check your blind spots. Use your turn signals. Give cyclists at least 3 feet (1 meter) of clearance when passing. Only pass cyclists and other motorists when absolutely safe. Never use your cell phone while driving. Never text while driving. And don’t get angry at slower road users, as they have every right to be on the road.

If you ride a bicycle, please be mindful of you fellow road users, including fellow cyclists, pedestrians, and drivers. Make eye contact with drivers. Ride courteously, but visibly. Wear bright clothing, especially if you ride before sunrise or after sunset. Use lights when it’s dark or raining. Indicate what you plan to do with clear hand signals. Don’t run red lights or stop signs – ever. Ride predictably. Don’t talk on your phone or text while riding. Be kind to your fellow rider, and encourage your fellow cyclists to do the same. And don’t snap at motorists: you win more fans with kindness than anger.

If you are a pedestrian (including runners), please be mindful of your fellow road users. Be visible, especially at night, and wear bright clothing. Don’t tune out the entire world with your music, as hearing is a safety mechanism. Make eye contact with your fellow road users. Don’t jog in bike lanes – ever. Smile. Act predictably.

For any mode: be the best advocate you can be for complete streets.

Above all: be safe. It’s the least that Sam would want as his legacy. If you can, chip in a few bucks in Sam’s honor to The Alliance for Biking and Walking. Volunteer with your local cycling or pedestrian advocacy organization. If you drive, join an auto club that also supports cycling and walking.

And say “I love you” to your loved ones. Hold them close. Show them you care.

R.I.P., Sam Felder. And we love you, Julie and Sylvia.

(Cover photo by Sam Felder, covered by Creative Commons.)

ten on tuesday: the music died too young

The first of two (!) posts today, inspired by Carole’s typical prodding. Her topic: list ten musicians who you wish were still on this mortal coil.

  1. John Lennon. Need anything be said here?
  2. George Harrison. Again, need anything be said?
  3. Otis Redding. He finally had mainstream success the week he died. Such a voice…
  4. Buddy Holly. I think he would’ve given The Beatles a run for their money in the early 60s.
  5. Freddie Mercury. Even though his voice was damaged from smoking and his failing health, he brought the show. And now that homophobia isn’t a thing in rock, I think he would’ve flourished.
  6. Eva Cassidy. She was blessed with a wonderful voice, but was only hitting the big time when cancer struck her down.
  7. Keith Moon. I think he had a lot left in him, and The Who was never the same after his passing.
  8. Jon Entwistle. Same goes for “The Ox,” whose bass lines and licks were always stunning.
  9. Rick Wright. The quietest member of a quiet band. His keyboard sound was the glue of Pink Floyd, and his recent work with David Gilmour was most lovely.
  10. Janis Joplin. Oh, those blues. Oh, what a self-destructive life.

I could carry on: Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, Dusty Springfield, Cass Elliot, and so many more deserve to be on this list. But that’s my ten.

Anybody you’d add to this list? Leave a comment!

(Cover image courtesy of Getty Images.)

thoughtful. entertaining. random.