On Saturday, May 30th, 2009, I did something I never thought I'd ever do...I finished a sprint triathlon! It wasn't without it's drama, believe me. Oh, you want to hear about it? Well, grab a chair (which you're probably already in) and get comfy...
It was already a great weekend because Danielle was in town. Things could have stopped right there and it would have been a great weekend. But she wasn't just here to visit; she was here to support me in running the tri. I picked her up from the airport on Friday and we made the long drive down to Pocomoke City, MD (way on the Eastern Shore, near the southern-most tip of Maryland). We checked into our hotel, and while waiting for everyone else to arrive, we explored the town. Our hotel was actually about 25 minutes away from Pocomoke City, in the equally small Virginia town of Chinkateague. It was beautiful though...right on the water and very peaceful. We explored some tourist traps and found out where the recommended restaurants where. We also checked out a t-shirt factory shop, where Dee and I did some impromptu dancing in the middle of the store. It was a lovely moment...one I hope to recreate whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Eventually, everyone else started to arrive. Unfortunately, Caitlin (Nick's girlfriend)'s plane was severely delayed, so they wouldn't be joining us until late that night. The remainder of the triathlon crew went out to a pretty nice restaurant to have a big pasta dinner. It was a lot of fun to just be together, chill and relax before race day. Once we got back to the hotel, we laid out our stuff for tomorrow and hit the sack.
(Nick and Caitlin arrived at about 12:30a that night. What troopers!)
In the morning, we got up and headed down to the lobby for some breakfast. As we sat around eating, Danielle and Caitlin busted in, wearing home made Team Miles and Team Schroedl jerseys and carrying pink pom-poms! Everyone got a kick out of that, especially myself and Nick. It was really sweet of them to do that, especially since Nick and I would need all the help we could get!
We made our way to the race site, and it was a sea of people getting registered, lining up their bikes, going into the YMCA building to use the bathroom and running around to get warmed up. This was the same triathlon that Alejandra did last year, so everything was very familiar to me; I just couldn't believe this year I was going to be participating! As I got my bike and shoes set up, I couldn't help but think about the swimming portion. It was gonna be a little less than half a mile, but looking out on the lake and seeing how far we actually had to swim, it seemed a lot longer. I hadn't gotten to do any swimming for the past couple weeks, but for some reason I didn't feel like that would slow me down that much. I actually felt like I'd do really well. Dee was encouraging me the whole time before the start, and that helped calm my nerves.
Just like last year, there was a pre-race meeting, and just like last year, there was a pre-race prayer. I really liked that about this race...plus I needed one more plee to God for help!
After we prayed, we headed to the water! The race would start in waves...men 20-29, men 30-39, women 20-29, men 40 and up and women 40 and up. I was in the first wave, so I got in the water and prepared for action. The water was fairly cool and very dirty; even though I had my goggles on, when I looked underwater, I couldn't see a thing. No problem, I thought. I'll just keep on swimming and not worry about that.
They counted down from ten and away we went! As soon as we started, I saw just how different swimming in open water is to swimming in a pool, especially when you're swimming with about 30 other guys right next to you. Water kicked up in my face and I swallowed a bunch of it. I started choking and immediately all my confidence was drained. I resorted to doing the back stroke (aka, the "stay alive" stroke) and started heading out. Unfortunately, the back stroke is not very fast, so as all the other waves started, everyone was passing me. Also with the back stroke in open water, there's nothing you can look at which tells you what direction you're going, so you have to constantly turn over to make sure you're still going the right way. I forgot to do that several times, and ended up swimming into the middle of the lake, while everyone else was swimming around the perimeter! A guy in a kayak, who was one of the life guards, had to stay with me the whole time to make sure I didn't drown. I was SO thankful for that, as there were several times where I had to cry out to God to help me make it.
After what seemed like forever, I finally made it back to the shore. By then, several more of our friends had arrived and where cheering me on (I didn't hear them cheering for anyone else in our group, so I assumed I was the last one to come out of the water). I felt very tired, but was looking forward to getting on the bike. Dee was right there as I was transitioning, offering her words of encouragement. As I got to the bike rack, I saw Nick and Ali! Turns out they had come out of the water just before me. I was grateful to see them, and that gave me even more energy.
I hopped on the bike and away I went. I am a MUCH stronger biker than I am a swimmer, so I made up a lot of time while riding. Along the way, I saw several bikers who were stuck on the side of the road with blown tires. "Oh God, PLEASE let me get through this ride without blowing a tire!" was my prayer all along the way. Walking several miles back to the start line with a broken bike was the absolute LAST thing I needed. Fortunately, God answered that prayer. I was also able to pass several people along the way, which did wonders for rebuilding my confidence.
As I got back, I put the bike up and prepared for the run. Dee was right there, still shaking her pom-poms and cheering me on, and I really appreciated it. Right as I started the run, I passed the finish line. I looked over to see the clock and it read 1:15 (one hour and fifteen minutes elapsed time). I couldn't help but laugh (that was what I wanted my finishing time to be when I first decided I would do the triathlon many months ago). At this point, I now wanted to finish in under two hours. My legs felt like lead after getting off the bike, but I still managed to hold a decent pace while running.
As I crested the hill and hit the final stretch towards the finish line, I was met by Matt (who had already finished the race and had come back to cheer us on). As I got closer, I could see and hear Kiki and Rob cheering (they had also finished) as well as Dee, Caitlin and the rest of our encouragement squad. I pushed it towards the end and finished in 1:43. Considering my swimming mishaps, I was more than happy with that time.
We cheered the rest of our group on as they all finished the race in their respective times. It was a great experience overall, and I'm glad I did it. I think everyone else felt the same way. When it was all over, we put our stuff away and got cleaned up. Dee and I played a very competitive game of air hockey, which resulted in a tie. Next time, I'll get her though. :)
On our way back, we stopped off at a steak house and had a fantastic post race meal of steak and other treats. Later on that evening, all of the triathletes came over to Nick's place for some dinner and a movie (Paul Blart: Mall Cop is HILARIOUS!).
All in all, it was a wonderful day!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Firehouse Life - A Foggy Memory
In 2007, the Montgomery County Fire Department responded to approximately 107,000 emergency calls. Of those 107,000 calls, about 80% of them were medical in nature. Medical calls come in all types of flavors... from the minor (headaches, nose bleeds, stomach aches) to the major (gun shot wounds, heart attacks, serious car accidents).
It seems as if most days, a lot of the calls I respond to could fit into the "minor" category. I've ran my share of drunk people passed out in the middle of the street (literally...this one guy was lying with half his body IN the street) and people who have waited until 3am to call 911 for the stomach ache that they've had all day ("I didn't want to bother you guys," they say. So you waited until 3a, when we were all sleeping, to call?). These calls, when run ad nauseum, have a tendency to burn firefighters out, myself definitely included. However, when we run a call where there's no doubt that our actions have made a significant difference in that person's life, it makes the repetition and tedium of the other calls all worth it. Memory of those calls fades away and all that's left is a reminder of why we decided to take this job in the first place: to make a difference. Yesterday was such a day; not because it happened once, but because it happened twice.
I was working in Germantown yesterday, driving the medic unit. We had ran a few calls during the first part of the day, taking us up to a little after lunch. After lunch, we did some training on setting up rope rescue systems (it had been raining all day, so we staid inside and used a set of small ropes and pulleys to create a miniature version of a "high line."). In the evening, some volunteers came in to ride along; one of them relieved me in driving the medic unit, so I was reassigned to ride on the tower ladder truck. I was excited about that because 1) I was riding a fire truck and 2) I was hoping to get some rest that night, as the ladder truck is usually not that busy at most stations. So I put my stuff on the tower, checked my equipment and hoped for the best.
After dinner, the tower and the medic unit ran a call for an unconscious person. While en route, our dispatcher told us that the call had been upgraded to a working code (the person is in cardiac arrest...not breathing, with no pulse). We got there and were told the arrest had just happened. Because of that, the medics hooked him up to their cardiac monitor and began to "pace" the guy (basically, their monitor can act as a pace-maker and control the man's heart rate). When done early enough, pacing is very effective in controlling and even restoring heart rhythm; fortunately this case was no exception...the pacing got his heart beating again. However, he was taking extremely shallow breaths...so shallow that he would die if we couldn't get him breathing normally again.
We got him onto our cot (no easy task since he was a BIG guy...easily 300 pounds) and headed toward the hospital, lights and sirens blaring. The medics attempted to intubate him (sticking a tube down his throat and into his lungs to help him breath better), but his throat was too tight. They attempted to intubate him through his nose and that was successful. We connected our bag valve mask (a big bag that you squeeze and, when connected to an oxygen tank, pumps 100% pure air into the patient) to the tube and I began to help pace his breathing for him, while the medics attempted to start an IV.
The pacing, intubation and breathing definitely helped him, for after we got him to the hospital and the nurses and doctors took over, they told us that he didn't have any cardiac damage and that more than likely he would pull through.
It took us awhile to clean up after this call (I will spare you the gory details, but let's just say a lot of things in the back of the medic unit needed to be disinfected). As we were finishing up, I was told that the volunteer who took over driving the medic unit injured his back during that call. So guess who was back to driving the medic unit? Oh well...these things happen.
We finally made it back to the firehouse. After fueling up, settling in and talking to Dee for a while, I hit the sack. Not five minutes after I laid down, the medic unit got a call. This one was for a man having trouble breathing. Sure enough, when we saw this guy, we new he was in trouble. He was sitting on the bed, eyes closed, barely conscious, struggling to breath. We got him into the medic unit and hooked him up to our CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) machine. This device basically forces air into your lungs; it helps a lot with people who have congestive heart failure (CHF). We raced down the road, lights and sirens flashing and screaming once again. The CPAP machine helped this gentleman out a lot, and by the time we got to the hospital, he was looking a lot better. As we cleaned up and got ready for the next call, the man had stabilized and looked like he was going to pull through (ironically enough, we brought him into the same hospital room that we had taken our other critical patient).
That ended up being our last call of the night. I finally collapsed into bed around 1:30a, exhausted, reflective on the events of the day and grateful I got to help make a difference in these people's lives.
I tried to think back on some of the "minor" calls we ran that day, but I couldn't really remember.
It seems as if most days, a lot of the calls I respond to could fit into the "minor" category. I've ran my share of drunk people passed out in the middle of the street (literally...this one guy was lying with half his body IN the street) and people who have waited until 3am to call 911 for the stomach ache that they've had all day ("I didn't want to bother you guys," they say. So you waited until 3a, when we were all sleeping, to call?). These calls, when run ad nauseum, have a tendency to burn firefighters out, myself definitely included. However, when we run a call where there's no doubt that our actions have made a significant difference in that person's life, it makes the repetition and tedium of the other calls all worth it. Memory of those calls fades away and all that's left is a reminder of why we decided to take this job in the first place: to make a difference. Yesterday was such a day; not because it happened once, but because it happened twice.
I was working in Germantown yesterday, driving the medic unit. We had ran a few calls during the first part of the day, taking us up to a little after lunch. After lunch, we did some training on setting up rope rescue systems (it had been raining all day, so we staid inside and used a set of small ropes and pulleys to create a miniature version of a "high line."). In the evening, some volunteers came in to ride along; one of them relieved me in driving the medic unit, so I was reassigned to ride on the tower ladder truck. I was excited about that because 1) I was riding a fire truck and 2) I was hoping to get some rest that night, as the ladder truck is usually not that busy at most stations. So I put my stuff on the tower, checked my equipment and hoped for the best.
After dinner, the tower and the medic unit ran a call for an unconscious person. While en route, our dispatcher told us that the call had been upgraded to a working code (the person is in cardiac arrest...not breathing, with no pulse). We got there and were told the arrest had just happened. Because of that, the medics hooked him up to their cardiac monitor and began to "pace" the guy (basically, their monitor can act as a pace-maker and control the man's heart rate). When done early enough, pacing is very effective in controlling and even restoring heart rhythm; fortunately this case was no exception...the pacing got his heart beating again. However, he was taking extremely shallow breaths...so shallow that he would die if we couldn't get him breathing normally again.
We got him onto our cot (no easy task since he was a BIG guy...easily 300 pounds) and headed toward the hospital, lights and sirens blaring. The medics attempted to intubate him (sticking a tube down his throat and into his lungs to help him breath better), but his throat was too tight. They attempted to intubate him through his nose and that was successful. We connected our bag valve mask (a big bag that you squeeze and, when connected to an oxygen tank, pumps 100% pure air into the patient) to the tube and I began to help pace his breathing for him, while the medics attempted to start an IV.
The pacing, intubation and breathing definitely helped him, for after we got him to the hospital and the nurses and doctors took over, they told us that he didn't have any cardiac damage and that more than likely he would pull through.
It took us awhile to clean up after this call (I will spare you the gory details, but let's just say a lot of things in the back of the medic unit needed to be disinfected). As we were finishing up, I was told that the volunteer who took over driving the medic unit injured his back during that call. So guess who was back to driving the medic unit? Oh well...these things happen.
We finally made it back to the firehouse. After fueling up, settling in and talking to Dee for a while, I hit the sack. Not five minutes after I laid down, the medic unit got a call. This one was for a man having trouble breathing. Sure enough, when we saw this guy, we new he was in trouble. He was sitting on the bed, eyes closed, barely conscious, struggling to breath. We got him into the medic unit and hooked him up to our CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) machine. This device basically forces air into your lungs; it helps a lot with people who have congestive heart failure (CHF). We raced down the road, lights and sirens flashing and screaming once again. The CPAP machine helped this gentleman out a lot, and by the time we got to the hospital, he was looking a lot better. As we cleaned up and got ready for the next call, the man had stabilized and looked like he was going to pull through (ironically enough, we brought him into the same hospital room that we had taken our other critical patient).
That ended up being our last call of the night. I finally collapsed into bed around 1:30a, exhausted, reflective on the events of the day and grateful I got to help make a difference in these people's lives.
I tried to think back on some of the "minor" calls we ran that day, but I couldn't really remember.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Firehouse Life - Swimming Pools...Movie Stars...okay, no movie stars...just swimming pools.
Today is A shift.
I should not be working today, but I am. Why, you ask? I'm working for a co-worker who worked for me a couple weeks ago. It's always great to have someone work for you, so I can have five days off. But when I have to work for THEM, it means 48 hours in the firehouse, which can be fun, boring, or completely insane.
As of this writing, I'm 10 hours in on a 48-hour work bender. I'm working in Bethesda at station 26, driving the fire engine. Driving the engine is a great gig, and today is no exception. Working at station 26 though, isn't usually something to write home about. Only three career guys work there at a time (an ambulance staffed exclusively by volunteers is also here, but the career people and volunteers don't interact too much), so it can be a little boring if you're not running calls. We've only run one call so far today, but that doesn't mean we've been devoid of activity...oh no...
Memorial Day weekend not only means remembering those who have served our country in the armed forces, but also that swimming pools all across the county are open for business. Little children and senior citizens, teenagers and parents, college students and single twenty and thirty-somethings all gather together at their local pools to cool themselves off in the crisp, chlorine-seasoned water or to lounge by the poolside, hoping to darken themselves up after months of accumulated winter pastiness.
For us in the fire department, Memorial Day weekend meant going to these pools and checking to see if their hazardous material certifications were up to date (Swimming pools store so much chlorine and other pool chemicals that they need to have a Haz-Mat certification). So we went out and about in neighboring Bethesda to make sure condo pools, apartment pools and private pools were all up to date and legal.
During our inspections we visited five pools (two condo, two apartment and one private) and found two common similarities in all of them:
1) There must be some kind of service that provides life-guarding jobs to European and Asian teenagers, because all of the lifeguards we spoke to at each pool (except one) spoke either Russian or some other European foreign language fluently (their heavy accents and difficulty understanding what we were asking them for were dead giveaways). How do these kids get hooked up like this? How did they get this "in" to the life-guarding business? I know summer time life guards are usually teenagers, but all of them Russian-speaking? Hmmmmm...
2) ALL of the pools...repeat, ALL of the pools had no Haz-Mat certification present (a violation) or the one had was expired (also a violation). Not only that, but ALL of the pools' licenses to even operate a pool were expired too (a MAJOR violation)! These certs are supposed to be renewed every year; How do the pool management companies let this slip? I might be able to understand if ONE company had let it expire by maybe a couple weeks (if that), but they were ALL expired! One company hadn't renewed their license since 2007!!
Technically, we could have shut all those pools down right there on the spot, but the captain gave them two weeks to get their problems fixed. If they don't, looks like the local Bethesda residents will either have to search a bit farther to cool off, or be stuck taking lots of cold showers.
Either way, I'm sure the Russian teenagers will still get hooked up with jobs somewhere.
I should not be working today, but I am. Why, you ask? I'm working for a co-worker who worked for me a couple weeks ago. It's always great to have someone work for you, so I can have five days off. But when I have to work for THEM, it means 48 hours in the firehouse, which can be fun, boring, or completely insane.
As of this writing, I'm 10 hours in on a 48-hour work bender. I'm working in Bethesda at station 26, driving the fire engine. Driving the engine is a great gig, and today is no exception. Working at station 26 though, isn't usually something to write home about. Only three career guys work there at a time (an ambulance staffed exclusively by volunteers is also here, but the career people and volunteers don't interact too much), so it can be a little boring if you're not running calls. We've only run one call so far today, but that doesn't mean we've been devoid of activity...oh no...
Memorial Day weekend not only means remembering those who have served our country in the armed forces, but also that swimming pools all across the county are open for business. Little children and senior citizens, teenagers and parents, college students and single twenty and thirty-somethings all gather together at their local pools to cool themselves off in the crisp, chlorine-seasoned water or to lounge by the poolside, hoping to darken themselves up after months of accumulated winter pastiness.
For us in the fire department, Memorial Day weekend meant going to these pools and checking to see if their hazardous material certifications were up to date (Swimming pools store so much chlorine and other pool chemicals that they need to have a Haz-Mat certification). So we went out and about in neighboring Bethesda to make sure condo pools, apartment pools and private pools were all up to date and legal.
During our inspections we visited five pools (two condo, two apartment and one private) and found two common similarities in all of them:
1) There must be some kind of service that provides life-guarding jobs to European and Asian teenagers, because all of the lifeguards we spoke to at each pool (except one) spoke either Russian or some other European foreign language fluently (their heavy accents and difficulty understanding what we were asking them for were dead giveaways). How do these kids get hooked up like this? How did they get this "in" to the life-guarding business? I know summer time life guards are usually teenagers, but all of them Russian-speaking? Hmmmmm...
2) ALL of the pools...repeat, ALL of the pools had no Haz-Mat certification present (a violation) or the one had was expired (also a violation). Not only that, but ALL of the pools' licenses to even operate a pool were expired too (a MAJOR violation)! These certs are supposed to be renewed every year; How do the pool management companies let this slip? I might be able to understand if ONE company had let it expire by maybe a couple weeks (if that), but they were ALL expired! One company hadn't renewed their license since 2007!!
Technically, we could have shut all those pools down right there on the spot, but the captain gave them two weeks to get their problems fixed. If they don't, looks like the local Bethesda residents will either have to search a bit farther to cool off, or be stuck taking lots of cold showers.
Either way, I'm sure the Russian teenagers will still get hooked up with jobs somewhere.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Road Trip Videos
Here are the music videos I made of all our recent road trip shinanigans. They are my first attempts at using movie-making software. I have to say, the whole process was extremely addictive. Let me know what you think!
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