Colour In Winter – Baluchi Valley 2008
Author: Chad Dobbs
I ride bikes, I live in Melbourne and I live with the black dog
Standing Guard – PB Atiq 2009
Sunset In Baluchi Valley – 2009
Twilight In Southern Iraq – 2007
Recovery Week In Review – Week 2
After a massive 277.4km the previous week, I went into last week with a lot more confidence and renewed vigour for spending time in the saddle. But after Monday’s short commute to and from work I felt that familiar twinge in my shoulder and neck; my injury was flaring up. So Tuesday as a riding day was a scratch. I wore my brace to work under my business shirt and took my painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs.
By Wednesday I was still sore, so still no riding… and Thursday became SSDD. I was getting a little anxious to get back on the bike; but Friday was spent driving to Melbourne for some Wedding planning and a going away party for the future in-laws. But in the back of my car was Zooey.
Saturday was a typical Melbourne morning; cold and raining. I drove to Lysterfield Park for some muddy MTB fun with a friend from my Army days. I followed up with another couple of solo laps after a quick bite to eat. Lysterfield Park is a great MTB park, but I didn’t get to experience it’s full potential with all the mud and the many, many slower riders who just don’t understand the concept of moving out of the way.
With the next CORC XC race on 2 June, I’ll be putting some more kilometres down to build up more fitness and hopefully keep my recovery in check.
The Black Dog Sitting In The Corner
When living with a predisposition towards anxiety and depression it’s sometimes a struggle to keep the right balance. There are many ways to keep balanced and focused and on most days it’s quite simple to control the symptoms by either dealing with the issue before it becomes a real problem or by removing yourself from the situation entirely.
Although I am not ashamed of my past episodes, I do pride myself on being able to maintain my composure in view of others. I’ve become quite adept at it over the past few years by either being quiet and maintaining a calm facade or by injecting humour into stressful and upsetting situations. Over the years I have developed an effective system where I disengage from the stressor for a few seconds, regain my composure and re-enter the situation with a different viewpoint and plan of attack. This system worked extremely well for me when I was in the Army. I would often break eye contact with the person involved, take a deep breath and then reengage with a different angle and either put the person on the back foot or remove myself from the situation entirely before I lost control and acted out inappropriately. When mitigating a mild anxiety episode it is quite possible that others will not realise what is happening. Family and close friends can pick the signs and will often start to deflect conversation or actions away from you; my girly often does this when she sees that I’m becoming uncomfortable.
I have a number of physiological changes that occur that a person observing me will be able to identify when I’m becoming anxious. Two of my more obvious ‘tells’ are: the lowering of my voice and more deliberate pronunciation of words; and the emergence of a light skin rash that will originate on my upper chest and migrate up my neck. But anxiousness is only part of the equation. The other is depression.
I have been accused of being pessimistic for most of my life; but in reality I’ve always known I’ve been depressive since childhood. Often I would withdraw from others and act out aggressively towards my family. Basically I acted like a shy young boy, and then a typical teenager; but shouldn’t these actions and reactions have ceased in adulthood? For me they didn’t, they became more acute, and combined with some incredibly stressful situations in my mid to late twenties I found myself staring right at the proverbial black dog sitting in the corner.
To go through life pretending everything is okay is both difficult and incredibly easy. It’s not quite living a lie; it’s more playing the part others want to see. I was so good at it I even convinced myself I was okay sometimes. But in reality I wasn’t; and with a lot of support from friends and family I asked for and got the help I needed and life became easier. Admitting there is a problem is not the cure all; there is a constant battle in your head and heart to keep positive and do the right things to keep the scale tipping upwards and not down.
Sometimes the balance tips the other way and the black dog reappears. I have tendency to become aggressive and short with most people during these episodes and will push away those that are closest to me. What was judged as being the actions of a moody young man was actually the depressive episode of a person too afraid to call out for help. While I was lucky enough to have the support of my friends and family and afforded the opportunity to seek counselling; many others don’t.
This is not a post that really goes anywhere, it’s not a guide for anyone with anxiety or depression, it’s just my thoughts on a subject I know quite intimately. No one is ever cured of anxiety and depression; they just learn to live with it and not let it dictate the future.
Recovery Week In Review – Week 1
After last weekend’s disappointing DNF in Round 1 of the 2013 CORC XC Series I hopped back on Sara, my Giant Defy road bike. My first roadie commute on Tuesday afternoon didn’t go very well; I was slow, out of breath and my legs felt like they were on fire.
I was quite dejected and even let out some of the little dark clouds I keep hidden in the closet under the stairs. But soon I realised I was still recovering from my injury and all I needed to do was get some more kilometres under the tyres and take my time building up my strength, fitness and endurance.
I woke up early on Wednesday morning and decided to ride Zooey into work. It was a cold morning and I wore too much cold weather gear; by the time I arrived at work in the very chilly 2 degrees I was sweating profusely; a lesson learned prior to the sub-zero Canberra winter. My ride home was quite enjoyable with a little extra km’s thrown in. Later that night I joined Sonja and Fi for a lap around LBG. I started off taking it very easy and then stepped it up a few notches. Finally I was feeling comfortable back in the saddle.
I was feeling motivated and drafted up a training program to help me get race fit once again. Because of this, Thursday was a self-imposed rest day. Friday saw me take the quick route to work; a ride I’ve done at least one hundred times before and a ride I did in a little over 4 minutes longer than my best time. My legs felt good and so did my overall fitness. I was starting to think Tuesday morning may have been an off day so I decided to test myself on the ride home. I crossed into NSW and headed the long way home. 41.2km and a few decent climbs later; I was a sweaty, hungry and very happy rider.
I woke up on Saturday morning, had breakfast and kitted up for the long ride out to Mt Stromlo for some XC laps with fellow Bermers Tony and Pad. By the time I finished riding some of Australia’s best singletrack and gotten home I had ridden 80.6km on my beloved Zooey.
Sunday morning is traditionally The Berm’s Sunday Morning Social and Breakfast ride; but being Mother’s Day we were forgoing the regular breakfast at Edgars. I rode out in the cold and incredibly foggy Canberra morning. The sun was yet to rise and even if it did, the thick morning fog would not let it shine through. By the time I arrived at Bruce Ridge I was completely soaked from the heavy humidity and I had lost my cycling glasses.
The ride around Bruce was enjoyable as always. The tracks are tight and it’s easy to get lost in the thick eucalypt forest. But with our fearless leader Nat out in front on his new Open hardtail, we carved a quick but enjoyable ride through the dusty tracks. But like all good things, the ride came to an end and I headed back home on my mud and dust caked steed.
After uploading my ride to Strava I discovered I had demolished my weekly goal of 150km and had ridden a staggering 277.4km for the week.
To say I was happy is an understatement. Although my legs are a little tender I know I am on the mend. I still experience a dull pain in my chest and sharp pains in my neck and shoulder at times; but I’m not pushing myself to my limits. I’m confident I’m on the right track and I’m doing all the right things to get better.
Road(ie) To Recovery
Today I got back on the road bike for the first time in almost a month. I haven’t ridden a lot since I crashed at Mt Stromlo on the 14th of April. Not counting the 35km’s I rode to get home after I crashed; I have ridden a total of 40km’s since. This is not a good thing; I went from riding 200-300km’s a week to not riding at all. I was getting into a good training and nutrition regime that stalled abruptly, well the training side of it did. In just under 4 weeks I managed to put on an extra 4kg’s by continuing to eat massive amounts of carbohydrate and protein rich foods.
I debated at length with family and friends whether or not I should race last weekend in the first round of the new CORC XC Series. Well stupidly I entered and started the race. Predictably I didn’t finish. At around the 8km mark I clipped a tree with my left shoulder and decided I needed to pull out before I injured myself any further. Luckily I pulled up all right and my ongoing recovery continues.
End result: Round One: Rider #266 – DNF.
Which brings me to today’s commute. I decided not to ride to work this morning when I walked out into my courtyard and felt the chilly Canberra air. So Sara got packed into the Girly’s car with the intention of riding the long way home. Well that intention got left by the side of the road along with my confidence.
Today I felt something I haven’t felt since last September when I did my first mountain bike race with no lead up training. Today I felt my quads. I felt every single metre of the ride home as a deep burning pain in my legs. I was out of breath very quickly and drank too much water which caused stomach cramps. It is important to note that this was a 20km ride on tarmac with only a few moderate length hills to climb. I have done a 100km mountain bike race and felt better afterwards.
Stupidly I thought getting back on the roadie would be as if the last month didn’t happen. I had psyched myself up and honestly believed my ride home would be full of Strava personal records. But alas it was not meant to be. I came home quite disillusioned and somewhat angry at myself; I even managed to break the zipper on my Giant cycling jersey.
It wasn’t until I was in shower stretching out and enjoying the hot water on my aching legs that I realised what was going on. I’m not as fit as I was a month ago and I’m still healing from a fairly substantial muscle tear. I’m not ready to start training yet, I’m still in recovery mode.
Guess Whose Photo Got Published?
My photo of the mural at the Canberra Centre skate park was published as the cover for the new 2013 Canberra Compact Street Directory
Why I Walked Away From The RSL
I left the Australian Army 16 months ago, in that short period I have become a very vocal contributor and critic of veteran’s affairs in this country. In particular I have written about and contributed to issues in regards to the Government and Australian Defence Force’s handling of veteran support services for veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan.
It is a fact that many people within the Federal Cabinet and ADF hierarchy have the perception that the current system is doing enough to help wounded servicemen and servicewomen. This is not true however; and as more high profile Soldiers such as MAJGEN John Cantwell break down the stigma attached to PTSD; the support systems in place are getting better.
Traditionally the Returned and Services League of Australia (RSL) has been the main avenue for wounded servicemen and women past and present to pursue support and rehabilitation services. The various sub-branches around Australia have men and women, mostly ex-serving members, acting as advocates that help the people in need communicate with the Department of Veterans Affairs (DVA) and Veterans and Veterans Families Counselling Services (VVCS) in order to facilitate the required support services.
The RSL as a whole does a good job at this; however the various sub-branches sometimes aren’t as supportive as they should and to be honest are funded to be.
The RSL has a long history. Founded after WWI as a support service for returned servicemen; it continued to flourish in the peacetime years and throughout and post WWII. Without giving an in-depth history lesson; the years that followed included the Korean War, threat of communist invasion, threat of nuclear war and of course the Vietnam War.
I am a 3rd Generation Soldier. My Grandfather served in WWII across Africa and Europe, my Father served more than 40 years in the Australian Army and served in Vietnam; and I have served in both Iraq and Afghanistan. To say my families’ recent history is steeped deep within that of the Australian Defence Force is not too far removed. Both my Grandfather and Father have been awarded the Order of Australia Medal for their services to veteran’s advocacy and service to the Australian Army respectively.
My Grandfather was the President of his RSL sub-branch in excess of 40 years and my Father has been a staunch advocate within Legacy and his RSL sub-branch for many decades.
In the final years of my Grandfather’s life he stepped down as President of his RSL Sub-Branch; but remained a sitting board member and veteran’s advocate. Throughout the years he had amassed a very comprehensive list of contacts including high ranking ADF officers and politicians; both state and federal. It was a testament to his character and reputation when the Lord Mayor of Wollongong officiated at his funeral and hundreds from the veteran’s and RSL community attended. He was given a proper serviceman’s farewell at which I delivered a short, but heartfelt eulogy and placed a poppy on his flag draped casket, next to his WWII medals.
I have been accused of not knowing enough about the subject of veteran’s affairs before and to be blunt, the people that have made these accusations are full of shit. I have admired the two Patriarchs of my family for their dedication to veteran’s affairs since I was a young boy and have also learnt a lot from them. Now in my own way I have taken up the torch in order to fight for today’s young veterans.
While my Father is an active member of his local sub-branch; I doubt he will ever forget the way the returned servicemen of the Vietnam War were treated by the RSL. The Vietnam War divided Australia. People not only protested against Australia’s involvement in Vietnam they also shunned and persecuted those that wore the uniform in service for their nation. My Father was spat on during his “welcome home” parade, pigs blood was splashed upon other Soldiers as they marched through Sydney. And then the RSL told them “Vietnam wasn’t a real war”.
Imagine serving your country proudly in a foreign land; facing death on a regular basis and then being shunned by the very organisation set up and funded by the Federal Government to provide you support services. I’m not referring to the Veterans of Vietnam; I am referring to today; and the veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan. Young men and women fight for their country in the Middle East and are not afforded the respect that comes with serving your nation. In this regard certain sub-branches within the RSL have failed.
I have experienced this first hand; however I will not tarnish the entire RSL by the actions of the few. That is not fair and hopefully in the following years the RSL will realise their folly. If they choose not to openly embrace the modern serviceman and servicewoman the RSL will sadly disappear into the annuls of Australian Defence History like the thousands of men and women who have died wearing the uniform.
My decision not to join the RSL was made very easy when I was snubbed by the very sub-branch my late Grandfather was the stalwart of. As a 3rd generation serviceman and the Grandson of the man that dedicated more than 40 years of his life as Sub-Branch President it was insulting.
They openly criticised the need to include “young blokes with tatts” into their ranks. At first I was angry, but this soon faded as I realised there were alternate avenues for young veterans like myself to access the various support services they are entitled to.
For this reason I will support other advocacy and support services such as Soldier On and Mates 4 Mates as a lot of other Iraq and Afghanistan veterans in need will also choose to do.
Blogged Down By Life 