With the New Year upon us, we’ve had time to reflect on an epic 2012.

We started the year with high hopes at making a feature-length documentary focusing on a group of cardiac athletes overcoming obstacles and finding glory at the finish line. We thought we could basically write out exactly how things would go. Cardiac patient faces, adversity, trains for Ironman®, finds triumph at the finish line. Big mistake. It didn’t take long before we realized what rookies we were in thinking this!

A few months into training, not all was good, positive and pie in the sky. The entire cast had significant barriers to overcome, some with devastating consequences, changing lives and impacting future decisions as to whether they would be able to get to the starting line let alone the finish line.

We captured all of this on camera, filming across the country from Washington to New Hampshire, Hawaii to Illinois, and California to Michigan. As we started to review the 200 plus hours of footage, it became clear that we were no longer telling a ‘guts to glory’ story.

We all joined together to be part of something bigger than any one of us as individuals. Combining our common threads: heart disease and our love of Ironman®, we used these as inspirational metaphor in redefining strength and inspiring others to take care of their most vital organ, their heart. We wanted to bring attention and raise funds to tackle the number one epidemic that kills more than all forms of cancer, diabetes, accidents and respiratory disease combined.

In September, we attended our first filmmakers’ conference in LA. We didn’t know what to expect and were surrounded by experienced film and TV industry veterans. The experience was fantastic albeit it intimidating, however we did what we know best and told our stories in front of a theater of 200 plus professionals. Not only did we have the audience in tears but we also won second place in a ‘pitching’ competition for most promising documentary film. Wow, this was official validation that we were doing something that the world wanted to see!

November 18th, 2012 – Ironman® Arizona, race day. Our day of reckoning was here…. and what an amazing day it was. Don was brilliant as our Producer and logistics guru. Some raced, some didn’t. We even added a few amazing folks that we met along the way. We captured tears of pain and tears of joy from the water, the sky and the land with an amazing 10-strong camera crew.

All in all, we got our ‘guts to glory’ after all. However, as we begin the editing process, it’s becoming a sub plot to the much greater one. It’s time to change what we think and how we respond to heart disease. Through our stories, we want to give hope to those feeling hopeless. We want to bring compassion to those feeling apathetic about those with heart conditions. We will shed light on the fact that one young athlete dies every 3 days from sudden cardiac arrest and that it can be prevented. Our goal is to raise not only awareness but funds to help cardiac screening organizations and endurance sports charities. Through our stories, we hope to teach the world that if your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough.

It’s a big task we’re now committed to achieving and we can’t do it without your continued and ongoing support. We’re still in desperate need of funds for the editing and post-production process. We need your help spreading the word and building our followers. If you haven’t already done so join our cause by clicking here and if you have some small amount left over from the holidays to donate to our cause then click here. We know we can’t do this alone and need you to join us in our journey.

Now, time to celebrate an amazing year, have a sip of champagne, and get ready for another epic one in 2013!

Thanks again for your continued support. See you at the Oscars (a quote from Donald)!

Regards,
Dave, Ellen, Don and Adam

Ironman Arizona Race Day Part 1

It’s a beautiful day in Arizona.  Some four hours have passed since the swim started at 7 am.  All 7 Flatline to Finish line athletes (aka cast members) came out of the water with amazing times.

Ryan came out in 56 minutes – I think the cold water for this fair weather Hawaiian made him swim like a fish!  Next up was Ellen, with a smashing time of 1.06, especially considering she hasn’t eaten in 36 hours.  We then had Ironheart Racing team member Rick Armiger coming in at 1.18, followed very closely by Tristin Olsen Roy in 1.19.  Tristin is racing in memory of our hero Scott Roy. Patrick came out in a very respectable time of 1.31, with Dave and Jim battling it out to bring up the rear. Dave in came in 1.44 and Jim knocked some 30 minutes off his previous attempts, leaving the water in 1.48.

Now the athletes are  spread out over the bike course, with Ryan out front nearly at half way point.  The rest are battling it out on the loops for position as the weather starts to really heat up.  Pacing will be key as an Ironman ends with a marathon.

The journey over the last couple of days has been nerve racking with Ellen getting food poisoning and needing an emergency IV yesterday. The excitement this morning was Jim forgetting his tri shorts.  He only realized it while in the T1 changing tent so, like any brave man racing with heart, he jumped on his bike in his swim shorts minus any padding!

You can follow all our athletes on http://www.myathletelive.com/

Race numbers are:

Ryan = 1892

Ellen = 879

Rick = 215

Tristin = 662

Dave = 2287

Patrick = 2723

Jim = 2925

We are also live updating all day on the following social networks

http://www.facebook.com/HeartFlatlinetoFinishline

https://twitter.com/heartf2f

http://pinterest.com/ironheartgroup/

http://instagram.com/heartf2f#

http://www.youtube.com/user/HeartDocumentary

This has been an ugly week for me. Last Monday morning at 4:00, I was awakened by what felt like somebody was stabbing me in the lower left back. Dang near knocked me out of the bed! I got up and took some Advil and rubbed in some heat, thinking it was a late reaction to a pulled muscle from my 94-mile ride Saturday…but even that didn’t make sense to me. I managed to get back to sleep, and the morning shower did not provide any additional information, or pain.
Halfway to work, it hit me again. I had to keep adjusting in the seat to try and get comfortable. Once I got to work, walking in from the parking lot seemed to help a bit. But by noon, the fire was back. I popped in a few more Advil and walked the hall for a bit. By the end of the day, things had not improved – and I had a swim on the training plan.
It was a pretty slow swim, but I managed 2750 meters. But by about 9:00pm, I had decided it was time to go to the ER. I have been in this hospital way too many times lately; first, the bike crash Labor Day weekend which took me out of our planned relay tri, and now this.
I signed in and took a seat close to the door into the screening area, realizing it might be a while before my turn came for triage. This was the first time that night that it crossed my mind that there were still folks out there worse off than I. I looked around at the small crowd in the room… one man sitting against the wall, with crutches to the side of his chair – from the freshness of the plaster, I guessed he was waiting on paperwork so he could leave; a young couple opposite the crutches, she clearly being in some type of withdrawal tremors; an older woman sitting a few rows behind me, very much in pain with the majority of her left foot swathed in cotton wrap; and more toward the back of the lobby, away from the rest of the folks, what seemed to be a sizable Hispanic family, huddled quietly but with very concerned expressions on the older members’ faces.

I am very much a people watcher… you listen to what is being said around you, and try to imagine what is going on. Sometimes my images turn out to be correct, sometimes not.

As I was sitting there, the door to the interview room opened, and a nurse escorted an older woman out toward the lobby. I was sitting in the double-wide chair closest to the door, so as she got closer, I stood to let her take my seat. She smiled and gestured for me to sit where I was, saying the chair was certainly big enough for the two of us. Once she got situated, she asked why I was there. I told her that I thought it might be a kidney stone based on where the pain was located, but that I was just guessing. She explained that her husband was back in the ER area getting checked on, because he had come in with an irregular heartbeat. “But he’s a stubborn old coot. He will be fine.” I wondered if she was trying to persuade herself of that, more so than telling me anything. She proceeded to explain he had prior arrhythmia issues, and when I said I could relate to that, and after being told I was too young to experience that, I explained the heart attack and the triple bypass. Then this wonderful little woman explained she was a 35-year liver transplant survivor, done back when “we didn’t have any of this great technology to prevent rejection and all those infections.”  The more she told me, the more I was amazed. I said that my heart issues paled in comparison to the issues she and her husband have had to face. This lady was and still is a true fighter… and as she says, it is her turn to fight for her husband since he stood by her through all the “fuss” during her liver issues. This was the second time I realized I didn’t have things so badly that night. She said this was her opportunity to give back to him. I told her I admired her for that thought, because I felt the same way. That was when she asked about the red band on my left wrist, so I told her about us forming the non-profit, about the Ironman races, and how the IronHeart group was such an inspiration.

When they called my name, this quiet little lady put her hand on my arm and gave me a “You better take care of yourself. You still have a lot to do.” Hmmm….

Once into the ER area, after talking to a great doc, they moved me to a “stall”, one of four beds in a single room, all separated by curtains and walls which reminded me of car wash stalls. I noticed when we walked around the corner into the area, a police officer was sitting at the entrance. As it turned out, the two stalls on the far side were occupied by women, one of which was the younger lady I had seen in the lobby with what appeared to be withdrawal issues. The other woman, a bit older and a whole lot more belligerent, made enough noise for all of us put together. Anyway, not too long after this, they put me in a wheelchair and rolled me into the CAT scan. A couple pics later and I was on the way back to my bed. My next visitor was a talkative young nurse who said she was good at drawing blood and putting in the IV needles. I remembered to tell her I had already been stabbed Friday at my doctor’s office, so she avoided that area. But she WAS good at what she did – almost no pain at all. It wasn’t too long after the blood-taking that she took the vials to the lab and returned to give me some pain meds thru the IV. I slept long enough to empty one IV bag and still not feel her come in and disconnect the IV tube.

After waking up, and making a trip to the restroom, my doctor came in to tell me that I indeed had a 6mm stone, that she would be prescribing pain pills and that I needed to get an appointment scheduled with my doc asap. She also gave me a referral to a urologist in case I needed it.

Exiting the hospital about 6:00 am, I felt pretty good – no doubt there were good pain meds from the IV. I went home, took a shower, and drove to work. I figured I might as well get in a couple hours of work while I waited for the doctors to get into the office before I called. When I called my GP, I told them what was going on, and the response I received was “we can see you tomorrow at 11”… yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. The next call was to the urologist from the referral. Oddly enough, the initial response from them was exactly the same thing. I was getting a bit irritated at that point, but reached for my wallet to give them my insurance information. When I picked up the phone to give the nurse the information, she said quickly “before we go into this, on a 1 to 10 scale, what is your pain level right now?” When I told her about an 8, her answer was “Can you get to our office in the next 25 minutes?” I said I would be there even if I had to get a speeding ticket or two.

Once there, and after a fairly short wait in the lobby, I was ushered back to see the doc. Dr. Jones had already looked at all the test results from the hospital, so he knew the size of the stone and the blood results. He explained a couple of options, and I told him I had a race in a month, which we agreed ruled out any waiting for it to happen naturally. He started to explain the surgical removal process with the question “Do you know what a stent is?” I just smiled and said “Yes, I have 5 in my chest right now.” Caught him by surprise with that one…”well, yours are like a half-inch long and titanium. This one is rubber tubing and 12 inches long.” His next question was just “what have you eaten today?” After the “one small chocolate milk, one coffee and a third of a small Gatorade,” he asked if I wanted to do the surgery today. I said the sooner, the better, and he called his nurse to get in touch with the surgical center. The nurse came in and asked again what all I had eaten since midnight. I was scheduled for a 2pm arrival and a 3:30 surgery. I drove back to work, and completed all their paperwork online while waiting for the clock to tick to 1:40.

I arrived at the surgical center a few minutes early. The intake nurse told me she had contacted the insurance company for approval already and handed me a bill for almost $2000. Just a couple minutes after that, they called me back to pre-op. Changed clothes, laid down, and another great nurse (yeah, it was a great “nurse day” overall) came in, asked me what I had eaten all day, and started all the pre-op stuff: IV, monitors, etc. Anesthesiologist came in and explained the process, and asked AGAIN what all I had eaten…I almost felt guilty my story hadn’t changed!

Surgery itself went well. I had told the nurse in advance that I tend to come out of anesthetics slowly, and I was the last person left in recovery. My heart rate had to come down to a certain point before they would let me go home, so we had a few minutes to joke around. My next-door neighbor Christine had come to pick me up so she and I talked about her recent trip to Europe. Man, I would love to go there!

That was Tuesday’s fun… Friday we had more. I was supposed to go into the doctor’s office so they could remove the stent, which is about 12 inches of very skinny rubber tubing. Others had told me to make sure they gave me lots of drugs, but the procedure involved only some localized numbing. The procedure actually didn’t last long at all, but it really feels strange with a hose and camera going up inside you. I was VERY happy to be done with that one!

I managed a long walk yesterday, just to test the body. Everything went well, so I will be swimming and biking today, and back to my very slow plodding Tuesday. My run at IMAZ is going to be really slow, but it isn’t worth getting worked up about, either. Not like I was ever in a podium position, anyway…

I’m now less than four days from toeing the start line of a race I watched on TV as a child, seen in person, dreamed of racing, and was the main reason I got into the sport of triathlon: Ironman™ World Championship in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii.

The best way to describe the anticipation is that it’s like a 5yo waiting for Santa Claus. A Santa that will undoubtedly bring all sorts of unexpected goodies like chafing, upset stomach, cramping, sore muscles, black toenails, and a huge slice of humble pie. Regardless, 7am, October 13th, 2012 can’t come soon enough!!

My training for this race was more than a bit rough and less than ideal, but I’ve done my best, and all 100+ mile rides, 20+ mile runs, long swims, bricks, core work, early mornings and late nights are done and in the bank! In addition, my training partners, support network, and wife, Bonnie, have been amazing and it has been a journey that I will remember for a lifetime.

I will see you all at the finish line!

Cheers,
Ryan

Racing in the city that never sleeps:

Ironheart Racing Team was well represented at the IM US Championships, held on 8/11/12, with 10 athletes toeing the starting line (or barge, in this case).  In total, over 2,700 athletes from 46 different states and 44 different countries chose to participate in the first IM ever to be held in a major metropolitan city.

Originally billed as IM NYC, only 12 miles of the 140.6 mile IM US Championship course were actually held in NYC.  However, the race persona definitely took on that of ‘The City That Never Sleeps’!

Race morning started early.  Very, very early.  All athletes were required to catch a 4am ferry to from Pier 39 on the NY side of the Hudson River to T1 at the foot of the George Washington Bridge on the New Jersey side.  This required a 2am wake up call for myself and the 6 other Ironheart athletes from Hawaii that were staying together in a house on the Upper East Side.

A sleep numbed melee ensued with flashes of wetsuits, goggles, gels, bars, powders, gummies, doughnuts, boiled potatoes, rice balls, water bottles, flasks, salt tablets, skin lube, and bagels (with cream cheese of course) all disappearing, reappearing, and disappearing again into Swim transition and Special Needs bags.  Somehow, everyone made it downstairs in time for our 3am limo ride to Pier 39.  That’s right.  Limo.  It’s what the car service sent to accommodate all of us.  Needless to say, we rolled up in style.  You just gotta love NY!

Pier 39 and the 40 min ferry ride to T1 was unlike anything I’d ever experienced during an IM, or elsewhere.  The nervous energy was palpable as 2,700 finely tuned, well hydrated, athletes in an impressive array of spandex were confined to a holding area and, eventually, their respective ferries … which had only one bathroom.  Knees jackhammered, hands fidgeted, limbs were stretched and re-stretched, and some gave up trying to move and just stared vacantly at nothing.  By the end of the ride, there were a number of lemon-lime looking half filled Gatorade bottles laying around that you did not want to touch.

From the time we stepped off the ferry at T1, we had about 90 minutes to prep our bikes, arrange our gear, and use the porta potties before queueing up again for another ferry ride to the starting barge anchored 2.4 miles up the Hudson.  This ride, like the first one, was filled with nervous energy.  However, it was a quiet energy.  The type that fills a void before a highly meaningful, much anticipated, personal journey that, regardless of being there before, is still unknown.

The starting barge came into view as a hazy sun rose over the Hudson and a lazy white bird, floating on the surface, shot past us at an alarming speed.  Our ferry jockied for a landing position as the pros took their marks.

The cannon blast for the pros was like a shot of adrenaline.  U2′s ‘Beautiful Day’ blasted through the sound system as our ferry docked and we walked like Lemmings to the edge of the starting barge, took one last deep breath and jumped feet first into the Hudson.

Like most other races, from this point on, I only remember bits and pieces of the day.  Here is what I recall:

- Jumping off the starting barge with good friend and training partner Wil Yamamoto and we raced the entire swim together.

- The swim was crazy fast, warm, and, despite a sewage spill a couple of days before, did not smell, taste, or feel different than any other swim.

- Right hamstring cramping during the swim

- The hill straight out of T1

- The bike course was deceivingly tough and a chubby guy on the old bike that kept passing me on the uphill portions of the first loop

- Back and hamstring cramps

- Stretching and taking my time in T2

- Running with and talking to Ironheart athletes Felipe Rael and Rick Armiger

- Despite the hills, cramping, walking, and cramping some more, the run course was beautiful

- Amazing volunteers

- Shuffle/Run/Walking the last 10 miles and crossing the finish line with good friend and training partner Glen Duvall

- Meeting Ironheart athletes John Ratzan, Rick Armiger, and Scott Boylan after the race

- Watching a friend finish her first IM in 16hrs and 21min

- The four taco trucks on the street just above the finish where we feasted after the race

That pretty much sums up 12 hours of racing and time spent at the finishers area.

Every Ironman I’ve done has been a gritty, emotional roller coaster where the day of the race ends up being mostly a blur with a few priceless moments of clarity.  I find that the race itself is just an excuse for the journey.  A journey that always ends up being immensely rewarding and memorable.

Results:

Felipe Rael – 11:02:51

Scott Boylan – 11:28:46

John Ratzan – 11:46:58

Glen Duvall – 11:59:00

Ryan Leong – 12:00:36

Rick Armiger – 12:15:38

Tammy Rael – 12:21:51

Jodi Duvall – 12:39:01

Loren Kollar – 12:44:19

Wil Yamamoto – 14:57:24

08/26/12 – Ironman Louisville, KY

Like all Ironman races we sign up for way, way in advance they seem so far away, then BAM! its here. I’d been checking the weather report daily for the previous months leading up to the race like a man possessed, god knows why I can’t influence it. Well the few days before our arrival the temps had cooled to the low 80′s. Prefect I thought then as if by magic the day we arrive 95+ and thats the way its stayed for race day.

I did the normal swim and bike recce’s. The river was warm, 84 degrees warm so no wetsuits, which is what I expected. Did 1 lap of the lollipop style bike course. Nothing to worry about some rough roads so I felt confident of a good bike split.

Then concentrated on staying hydrated, rested and relaxed before race day on Sunday. Still working on the relaxed part. A few tire issues caused some panic and stress!!

Race Day! Alarm goes off at 4am. Normal routine. Hot shower to warm the muscles, bowl of oatmeal, banana, 2 rice cakes with PB, 2 salt pills all washed down with 500ml of sports drink. Now IM Louisville has a unique swim start as in its not a mass start its a time trail start at 7am. So the earlier you get to the swim start the further up line you’ll be. I ended up being about third of the way down the line. Personally i prefer the mass start as the weaker swimmers tend to get to the front so they have longer to swim the course so you end swimming over a lot of the slower swimmers which is annoying and frustrating for all. With a mass start people normally place themselves according to there ability. After the initial “washing machine” we all enjoy its comes down and you’ll either find clear water or some feet to follow. I was aiming for a 70 minutes swim but came out in 74 minutes. I came out 68th in my age group not the start I hoped for.

T1 was the normal frenzy but went smoothly.

Onto the bike and those 4 minutes bugged me for about the first 10 minutes before I decided the was nothing I could do it now so just concentrate on the bike!! As boring as it may sound the bike course was pretty uneventful. Mainly concentrated on my nutrition and keeping cool and the miles ticked away nicely. Although I’ve never seen as many punctures as I did on the Louisville bike route. The roads were pretty rough in places.

It was getting quite hot towards the end and the slight headwind we had coming back to Louisville didn’t seem to keep you cool. My aim was a 5:15 and came in with a 5:10 and moved up to 12th in my age group plus i’d made up the 4 minutes. Game on!!

T2 went by in a flash as in 2:58 flash. Think thats my quickest Ironman T2 ever!!

Now the run is my strongest discipline. This is were I get to chase all those dolphin like swimmers who leave me in the wake. Your in my territory now suckers and your going to suffer!! I’d been using a new strategy leading up to the race as my last couple of races I  kept cramping on the latter stages of the run no matter how much a drank and ate. 2 weeks out a started taking 2 magnesium tablets a day, followed by a salt pill everyday 1 week out. Basically the magnesium works by opening the doors of your muscles allowing the salt in. I also took 2 salt pills every hour on the bike and about 1.5 on the run. Would you believe it WORKED!. NO CRAMP. 95+, sweating like a beast but no cramp. AMAZING!

The run went well apart from a couple of bathroom breaks. I ticked of the miles and aid stations using everything they had to offer, sponges, ice, water, IM Perform and coke. It was hot but I never felt like I was melting.

My aim was 3:15 marathon and ended with 3:16 and the fasted marathon in my age group of the day, which I have to inpart thank my wife Leanne for. Her support throughout the day and her placing info throughout the run were simply amazing. She employed some great phycology tactics on mile 18 of the run telling I was in 5th place when in actual fact I was 2nd hoping I wouldn’t slow my pace. When I passed again at about mile 22 she told the truth and that 1st was around 2 minutes in front. I only ended up just over a 1 minute behind 1st, if it wasn’t for the bathroom breaks I may have caught him. I’ll never know!

The energy at the finish on 4th street Live in downtown Louisville was amazing it gave the little bit extra on the home stretch, just what you need.

Overall I finished in total time of 9:48:14 with 2nd place my age group, 17th overall and most important of all a slot for KONA, HAWAII!!!!

Well as you all know , open water swimming in the Monterey Peninsula has been surprisingly challenging and frankly very unattractive (for those of you who missed the previous blog updates, lets just say Jelly Fish and Sharks!)…

Time is running out with only 7 weeks to go until race day, so I decided to drive 2 hours North East to Livermore , CA… apparently , there is a very nice and perfectly “swimable” lake with no wildlife!   A fellow Ironheart member  (and incidentally the Ironheart Store Manager – Dean) agreed to meet me there and show me the lake and kindly offered to do a scenic 55 mile ride bike after our swim.

Well, the swim was indeed beautiful,  flat calm, about 70 degrees and very idyllic.  I even persuaded my husband, Don to join us (not sure he has worn his wetsuit in several years!)… anyway my swim was fantastic,  right on pace for my training too.  Two miles later, we emerged and transitioned (very slowly) into our bike gear.  My subconscious heat-omitor was registering “rather warm” temps at this point… but off we went on our jolly ride,  we were flying, and I was feeling very strong  - little did I know that the route we were taking started with 30 miles of an ever so “slight” down hill with a tail wind… no wonder!

At the turn-around,  I had already drunk three bottles and was sweating like someone in a sauna… temperature was 100 degrees and one of the hottest days in Livermore this summer (not so perfect).    Well I learned how to really dig deep on the return,  ”slight” up hill and a “slight” head-wind – felt like a mountain and a hurricane to me!

Poor Dean (who is racing in Kona next week – that’s how much of an elite triathlete he is ) was spinning his wheels as he kept on waiting for me… I was totally spent and the heat took it out of me big time.  Back at the car, Don (who made the wise decision and turned around earlier) had the A/C on full blast and cold drinks waiting… thank goodness.     But all in all a great day of training… and best of all was the awesome Sushi we had as a post workout meal… yum!

What does being a finalist mean?  There was an international pool of applicants.  The 12 finalists were chosen based on those documentaries and reality-based television programming that showed the most promise.  We were given time to show our trailer and ‘pitch’ to a theater packed room of industry professionals and an American Idol-like panel of some of the entertainment’s top executives.  Voting happened after the final pitch and the winner received a check for $10,000 and a total of $25,000 in prizes.  By the time we left the stage, we had many in the audience in tears.  They weren’t alone, as Ellen and I both got emotional when telling the story of what our movie is all about.

In the end, the only thing that separated us from 1st place was one vote…  That’s right.  One vote!  OK… I’m done sulking!  In fact, we all feel we were true winners this week- in many ways.  We were overwhelmed with the positive feedback and recognition received and are now more focused than ever at making sure our story, message and vision gets told to the largest audience possible.  We didn’t leave empty handed and truly feel that the experience of being there and learning from the best was well worth it.  Along with making some amazing connections in the industry and filling our heads with phenomenal information, Lonnie Sill, Director of Film/TV Music for FirstCom Music awarded us a one year All Media License.  With 170,000 tracks of easy to license, high-quality music for film and television, we can have bragging rights on over 2,700 albums’ worth of the world’s finest music.  I think Don is most excited about this (big music buff!).

A big ‘thanks’ to Chuck Braverman and Richard Propper for all that Westdoc gave us!  We can’t wait to come back and share our learnings and success.  Big props to winner Erinnisse Heuer (New York) for edging us out with the soon to be amazing, ‘Spirit/Will/Loss’.  Hopefully, we’ll see her at the Oscars!

You can read more by viewing our press release.