Training in real life

Few of us are fortunate to be paid to train. That is not intended to take anything away from my generous sponsors - check them out to the left. But most of us must balance our athletic aspirations with work responsibilities, not to mention the opportunity to spend time with family, friends, at church, etc. Consequently, we prepare a beautiful training plan with peaks and troughs, hard work and rest, beautifully choreographed... only to have it ruined by reality. As Helmuth von Moltke famously stated, "No battle plan survives contact with the enemy."

Such was my training today. I was scheduled for a 30-hour call. The call started at 7am, when I signed in as the surgical house officer. House officer is an old term for the resident on call, which is a current term for Dumbass, MD who agreed to work for $13 an hour under the auspices of "furthering your education." Well, as the in-house scut monkey, I arrive at 7 with work. YAY!!! The resident leaving her 24-hour call tells me that there is a surgical patient in the ED who needs a history & physical done. She assures me she was only notified of this patient 15 minutes ago. Guess how long it takes me to finish the H&P? Less than 15 minutes...

Homes in communist cities receive heat and hot water from
central facilities too.... http://ruskidays.blogspot.com/

But the first few hours of my shift proceed uneventfully. So I decide to deploy my master plan. I pull my trusty triathlon bike (Name: Your mom) and trainer out of my car and set up shop in the call room. Like any major institution, our hospital is centrally controlled (see picture to right). Any major decision comes from the top down, from far away places... so far away, we are told, that our complaints cannot be heard, so best to save our breath and keep our noses to the grindstone. Well this is fine during the winter and summer when the weather is -20F or 110F outside. But what about today, March 20, when it's still technically winter, but 70F outside, and the frickin heat is on?!? Doesn't make for a pleasant ride.

But I ride [At this point in my typing, I am paged by a nurse to call x6025 with the note, "Call Immediately"... and the phone is frickin busy. That should be a hanging offense.] so anyway, I ride, grateful that I get some exercise. Our predecessors, the residents of yesteryear, had to work 90+ hour days with only gruel paste for nutrition and defibrillations for punishment. So yeah, 30-hour calls with the possibility of exercise aint so bad.

I make it through the first of my two hour workout fine. But into my second hour, I am called by two nurses about URGENT!!! matters. The first patient is having a muscle spasm. OH THE HUMANITY!!! Guess which magical potion I pull from my armamentarium?

Me: Let's give him a muscle relaxant.
Nurse: Are you sure?
My Id: You f***ing called me for advice, didn't you?
Me: Yes, thank you.

Quickly, another nurse calls me...

Nurse: Hi, Dr. So-and-so's patient is a little girl who needs more pain meds because she is 180 lbs.
Me: [I interject] Well she isn't really a little girl, now is she?
Nurse: No sir, I guess not. Anyway, Dr. So-and-so's patient is overweight and he only wrote for X, can we give her X + Y?
Me: You really should call Dr. So-and-so, since it's his patient.

But, after that, I finished my ride and I'm having a great call so far.

Daily workout:

Two hour cruise intervals on the trainer, with Zone 5 pickups in last 15 minutes.