Many people who live with Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS) find themselves in a state of question. Will my AS get better? Will my AS get worse? Will my activity level increase or decrease in the future? Will my spine fuse? For the last few years I have been fortunate to find myself in a relatively stable place with my AS and able to engage at a high level of activity - as demonstrated by my ability to train for an Ironman triathlon. This is not to say that questions are non-existent; but for the most part I am able to put aside the question of my future activity level and enjoy my current situation. A relatively recent injury, however, has viscerally rekindled the fear of the unknown.

The previous December I was driving to join friends for New Years on the other side of the Cascade Mountains from Portland in Bend, Oregon. It was a clear, cold night and as I rose out of the wet valley floor I crossed the magical 32 degree mark and found myself helplessly sliding on a sheet of black ice across the road, over the embankment, and down a 15+ foot embankment landing cab side down and rolling. Miraculously I was able to walk away from this unfortunate accident, but my body obviously underwent an enormous trauma with my head and neck being slammed on the roof of the car, and a diagonal impact exerted on one shoulder that stressed my back rather dramatically. Just over a year later I am still a masseuse's nightmare with omnipresent knots and a deep thoracic tension, but am relatively pain free in the general scheme of things.

Unfortunately it was not until late March / early April that a mysterious pain began to develop in the lateral portion of my left leg from around the femeral head (about ¾ of the way up my lower leg towards my knee) down to my foot and wrapping underneath. A bone scan was negative for a fracture, as was the MRI, though both revealed stress irritation. I was left with the common feeling many AS patients have before diagnosis, "I know something is going on --- it's giving me pain --- but no one seems to be able tell me what is really going on."

I was encouraged to continue cycling, but not at my previous or planned volumes, and to give up my cycling and triathlon race season for 2005 - which I did. As I sit here today the most I have run since April of 2005 is twice in one week, and for a maximum time of 35 minutes. Despite intermittent bursts of astym and ultrasound treatments, numerous strengthening and stretching exercises, not to mention the time off in 2005, the irritation still exists. I am attempting to operate confidently under the belief that I will be able to slowly, steadily, and consistently increase my run volume to enable me to be competitive at the Vineman Half Ironman in the Santa Rosa area this coming July, or in Pentiction, British Columbia for Ironman Canada in August; but I would be lying if I did not say that it was a niggling worry in the back of my head that forced its way to the forefront more frequently than I would like.

In one sense countless Ironman triathletes deal with a host of unknown aches, pains, and uncertainties, in another sense I was struck by the similar uncertainty factor that has been a part of my AS experience. I recount the mysterious leg injury portion of my experience because it is a current reality, but also because it helps remind me of my good fortune for being able to ride a hundred miles on a bike with a number of friends on any given crisp spring morning in Oregon. Let's see where my ride takes me this week.