Riding the Brain Waves: Double Down
For 19 years I believed myself a rather worthless human being, one incapable of achieving anything valuable in life. I had forged a path of destruction so deep that my ability to dream of better days laid in ruin. I was scared, angry at the world, and began giving up on the notion to remain a member of the living. The attractive picture of my own demise began to look too much like relief.
My conscious fears then became my subconscious reality, and I experienced a repeating nightmare that carried on for weeks. After recognizing the hurt my friends and family would suffer if forced to attend my funeral, something changed. Pushing aside the lies, I found hope in the truth of possibilities, the chance that something different was possible for me. You may claim semantics, but my position became one of not necessarily wanting to live, rather I made the sturdy decision not to die.
Hoping to gain functional control of my self-destructive behavior, I also accepted the core fact of the matter. I knew there was no way to eliminate my legacy pain, such self-cynicism was indeed too deep rooted. Hence I had to instead redirect, then found the only possible solution for survival: Athletics.
In the beginning I consumed nutritional supplements as a half-hearted attempt to combat my miserable diet. Without knowledge or experience on the matter, I began a process of trial and error…asking fellow competitors and health food retail staff what sort of products existed within my reach to make me healthier, stronger, and faster. Otherwise what the heck did I know, I knew a whole lot of nothing. I had never been an athlete, and my formal education was extremely limited. I held neither a college degree, nor even a high school diploma. In my youth I painfully slogged through little league baseball for two years, but was the embarrassment of the team. Never once did my bat ever connect with the ball, and I mean never.
Riding bicycles offered me an escape from my own little hell, at least for a while. Shifting from long-time drug addict to professional mountainbike racer seemed like a bold move, a true caterpillar to butterfly transformation. It also felt like change towards the better, except little did I know to be swapping one major problem for another.
Many athletes seem to recognize the addictive nature of training, but very few of us consciously choose to stop short of our excessiveness. The concocted presumption made perfect sense to me: Put in long intense training hours which would lead to more race wins, and race wins would turn me into somebody, anybody.
Pushing harder was an approach I fully embraced, even amidst frequent trips to the hospital. It appeared plainly as a natural cause and effect outcome, the injuries I sustained when slipping off the trailside razor’s edge. Disputing the notion of being “accident prone”, I rather embraced the actuality of my reality, it was just me throwing caution to the wind.
Not once did I consider the broken bones, the torn flesh and the blows to the head as sufficient reason to give up my newfound purpose for living. Injuries became an accepted part of the new deal, me living a life filled with intention instead of mindlessly allowing the drugs to take me away.
For 17 years I raced all disciplines on the domestic mountainbike circuit, and nine of those years I competed as a professional. National meets included long format cross-country events, short course dirt criteriums, uphill time trials, downhill runs against the clock, dual slalom, and even observed trials until that aspect of the sport fizzled out.
Fact is I had already amassed a dozen moderate concussions before suffering my first major traumatic brain injury, early into my racing career. Eight weeks after breaking my jaw on that downhill racecourse then spending a week in the hospital, my scrambled brain felt healed enough to begin training again. Delightfully, with jaw wires removed, I could also finally eat solid food. Figuring the term “bruised” meant that given time my brain would heal itself, I thought long and hard about how to improve my speed and go faster, not how to avoid further concussions. Determined, I committed to distancing myself even more from the drugs, and got back on the bike. The rest of the story so to speak, meaning my injury list rivaling Evel Knievel himself, is history.
I went on to break my jaw a second time for an accumulated total of over 40 broken bones, and I have gone under the knife 14 times, primarily for shoulder rotator cuff repairs and ankle/foot surgeries. Along the way I raced many different sports including BMX where I earned a national top-10 number plate, and competed in off-road motorcycle hare scramble events for 15 years. I went on to race nordic ski marathons extensively for five years. Miscellaneously, I was a NICA high school mountainbike race league coach for several seasons and even started my own composite team. You might also be somewhat pleased to know that I have used my lived experience to serve others as a Certified Peer Specialist, mentoring young adults who struggle with their poor mental health and substance abuse.
No longer do I assemble on the start line for mountainbike races but actually, my daily needs for supplements have increased. A year ago I was consuming about 15 pills a day: Multi-vitamins, omega 3 fish oil pills and the like, but today that number has more than doubled. What changed in one year’s time? Well, I need to back up a little in order to properly explain.
In 1995 as we drove a large motorhome from Baltimore to Utah, I gained a treasureful friendship with teammate Floyd Landis, just before embarking on the 24 Hours of Moab mountainbike relay race together. Fun facts…Floyd is an amazing singer, quite the comedian, and a loving friend who goes far above expectations to help others. We left Floyd in Moab after the race, and from there he moved to California. Staying in touch with Floyd over the years, I end up in the here and now.
Every possible treatment for my failing cognitive condition interests me. Already in the last five years I have found several life-changing therapies, and remain on the lookout for something new. I was familiar with Floyds of Leadville’s reputation for producing world-class CBD goods, and through my continued contact with Floyd’s work team, I learned of a fresh opportunity to contend with my concussions. Last year, a new company Floyds collaborated with was working on a line of life enhancing supplements, specifically developing products to help support concussion recovery, brain health, and performance. This was my introduction to Cognitive Protocol, and within days a conversation with them ensued. Along with some pre-production samples, I was given a detailed list of supplements to include in my daily menu, specifically to support brain health. I was not at all skeptical, I knew Floyd and his team well enough to trust they only work with folks who do quality work. Still, my 200+ lifetime concussions had become a legitimate fricking problem, and one that was making it more difficult for me to cope with life. As an educated maneuver, I consulted my rockstar nutritionist Lisa Mase of Harmonized Living for her feedback on Cognitive Protocol’s suggestions. Much to my delight, Lisa wholeheartedly supported all the additions, and in the blink of an eye I doubled my already mountain of daily pills.
Yet, oops, this also meant my supplements expense was about to soar. Well, as I wordlessly figured, what’s my brain health worth? I’ve already made it this far, I’ve endured so much, why not double down and embrace the next level of brain recovery? My monthly supplements budget was already robust, but everything I took had been proven to be worth it, so I did it, I spent the money. For example, a supplemental form of broccoli was recommended: A product called Sulphoraphane. Sulphoraphane is also being trialed in the reduction of tau protein accumulation, a condition that interests me immensely. That evil little tau protein buildup leads to CTE, the NFL football player’s disease, which has already killed several of my friends by suicide. A month supply of Sulphoraphane was going to cost almost $50 but as I learned to find, the results absolutely justify the expense.
Cognitive Protocol’s suggested supplements have made a noticeable difference, helping me recover faster from my most recent concussions, as well as improving my overall quality of life. I am more alert, more positive-minded, enjoy fewer headaches, and have increased my physical activity level since consuming the expanded ingredients. While the while, at least five times I have majorly choked when trying to swallow all the pills I take, twice requiring someone to lay hands on me and perform the Heimlich Maneuver. Most notably is one particular horse-sized pill of which I take three times per day. Surprisingly, Cognitive Protocol has now finalized their supplements and most of the formulas arrive in gel pack format, not pills, which makes me very happy. Even better, many of my individual supplements are now combined with others, thus greatly reducing out-of-pocket costs.
Although the deadly CTE can only be identified post-mortem, I am most likely suffering from it. Furthermore, despite putting much of my associated vile mood and vicious depression behind me, I am diagnosed with neurocognitive disorder because of all my blows to the head. Referencing a lifelong grapple with head trauma, truthfully I am thrilled to begin the new practices recommended by Floyds of Leadville, and serve as a Cognitive Protocol Ambassador. Their investment into helping brain-battered souls like me live our best lives is an appreciation far beyond my diction.
