The title sponsor of the US Pro Downhill Series, which consists of a total of five events all over the nation, is Monster Energy. In hindsight, I ask myself how the makers of a drink that has put people into emergency rooms for years (without my knowing about it, but well-documented online) can have this kind of exposure in what is supposed to be a clean sport. Little did I know (my bad, really) how toxic energy drinks such as Monster and Red Bull (both connected to "extreme sports" and catering to a mainly young—and mostly male— crowd) really are. It took me two days in the Lubbock Heart Hospital to realize the full extend of the health hazard these concoctions of ingredients such as taurine, guarana, and of course caffeine present—all of it packaged into colorful cans that belittle the fact that these drinks have the very real potential to kill. But then, who is to argue with a multi-billion industry, right? Current estimates put it at a measly $75 billion worldwide, with a total of $235 billion projected by 2030.
I had arrived in Utah on Wednesday to familiarize myself with the venue, which was new to me, before official practice started on Thursday. With a little more than 400 athletes, this was definitely the largest downhill race I had ever worked. Solitude is less than an hour from Salt Lake City, in one of the various side canyons that house resorts such as Alta and Snowbird. It's a very pretty place with the typical ski resort amenities (and prices!) that one finds at a base elevation around 8,000 feet without a town nearby.
At the SLC airport I had hooked up with David, who had been assigned as assistant referee, while I was chief. Jess played an interesting double role as secretary and also race director. The race series is a well-oiled machine that largely runs on its own; series director Clay (I had worked one of his races on the East coast in 2023, Mountain Spring) knows his stuff, and there was no reason to try to reinvent the wheel or tell him how to run his race.
Dave and I roomed together in the Solitude Resort, an unusual arrangement for five nights for the PCP of a National Series race, but we got along well. He is a firefighter, ski patroller, and first responder who knows many of the players on the downhill circuit. His role during the race consisted of one basic task: Being stationed at the start house to supervise practice, seeding, and final runs. He was rock solid, and we developed a nice rapport, which was supposed to have been continued the following week at Big Bear, in California, during USA Cycling's Gravity Mountain Bike National Championships.
Well, I should have listend to Dave when he told me that Monster was bad shit. But, you know, people will tell you that hot dogs are bad shit, too, yet eating one or two will not put you into the hospital. And so I had one, sometimes two cans of the stuff (one of the various sugar free versions since the regular ones are total sugar bombs) to break the daylong routine of drinking water, and more water. I didn't try to get energy from the Monster Rehab Tea and Lemonade, just a different taste in my mouth.
I enjoyed my time at Solitude, and an unexpected visit by Holly and Richard, who had been in the area and saw a FB post of mine and spontaneously decided to say hi to their fellow USAC official, was a real highlight. I spent the every day on the mountain, walking the dusty, gnarly course and riding the lift up to take Dave his lunch (and a Monster as he was begging for caffeine). During the competition runs I was positioned in the finish area to decide on potential reruns for riders who had been affected by a crashed rider in front of them.
It was sunny and hot, we were high up in the mountains, and I was enjoying life. No need to go into any of the race details; if you'd like to see some of the action you should check out the official hour-long video of the Pro finals, a truly professional, fast-paced, and well-narrated production by the onsite video crew. As it turned out, two of them, Michael "the Mangler" and Tim gave me a ride to the airport on Monday morning, and I never let on that I suddenly got hit by what seemed to be a baseball bat or maybe even an iron crowbar. My shoulders and back and chest began to hurt during our drive to SLC, and I had no idea what was going on. Was this a heart attack? What was happening?
The flight was torture. Thankfully, I had spent $235 out of my own pocket to upgrade the entire trip to First, but really, all I cared about was to make it to DFW. From there I called my friend Guy, the cardiologist who had taken care of me ten years ago when I had my aFib episode. He told me to immediately, upon having landed, head for the Lubbock Heart Hospital, where he would wait for me. Once in Lubbock, Sandy picked me up and took me to the ER. Some tests and a chest x-ray later it was clear that my heart rhythm was completely whacko. The excruciating pain was caused by my ticker having gone all day at 150 to 160 bpm. With meds things got better that night, within a few hours. 
I spent two nights in the hospital, taken care of by Sandy for the first four hours or so and then by friendly nurses and of course Guy, who checked on me Tuesday morning. Wednesday around noon I was discharged, still in aFib but with a bottle of amiodarone to eventually get me back in sync and a few boxes of Eliquis to make sure that I don't stroke out for the time being. At the time of this writing five days later, I'm still not completely in rhythm.
I was able to cancel (for a full refund) my Wednesday morning flight to Ontario, CA, where I had been scheduled to be on the crew for the Gravity Nationals, as mentioned. For the past several days I have been riding my bike, 25 to 28 miles each time, for which Guy cleared me at the time of discharge. I feel just fine, but my new Fitbit-like heart rate monitor (ordered while I was still in the hospital) shows some fluctuations still, although they are becoming less pronounced. Once I appear to be back in rhythm, Guy wants to conduct another ECG and a few other tests, just to be sure. Lest I forget: He told me that he sees a sharp spike in aFib in young males every year during finals time. Yep, that's the target group for Monster.
Lesson learned.
Lesson learned.
