How triathlon prepared me for the front lines of COVID-19.

By: Nicole Stamm

The evening of Friday, March 14th was filled with sunshine, a happy hour on the deck with friends, and the sound of children joyfully playing in the yard.  The COVID-19 virus was still a distant threat but little did I know, I had gone for my last swim earlier that day.  I received a text notification that my 6 year old son’s school would be closed on Monday and Tuesday for deep cleaning.  Several other schools in our area had already closed or were planning for closures for the entire week.  I’d soon come to find out that the planned two day closure would lead to distance learning from home for the foreseeable future.  Remember the feeling of clicking the “register” button for your first Ironman 140.6, before you actually knew what you were about to experience? I’d give anything to return to those beautiful moments of ignorant bliss.

To give you a little bit of background, I got started in triathlon about 4 years ago while I was going through a difficult divorce.  Running had always been my form of therapy and I decided to give triathlon a go when I was craving a bigger challenge.  On top of running a household and caring for my 6-year -old son, my career as a plastic surgery nurse practitioner can be very demanding.  Treating patients across the continuum of their surgical journey requires attention to detail, organization, a strong work ethic, and long hours on my feet in the operating room- a real life test of endurance.  After my first sprint race, despite feeling as if I was drowning during my first OWS, I was hooked. Triathlon has given me an outlet to expend pent up energy and relieve stress in a productive manner. 

The rest of March was nothing less than a whirlwind.  I began working from home answering patient emails, filling prescriptions, and rescheduling surgeries since all elective procedures were cancelled in order to keep hospital beds available for COVID-19 patients. I only ventured into the office once a week to see surgical patients who still required postoperative care. It seemed things were changing every moment, and with each passing hour our lives were getting further and further away from normal.  

Like any triathlete would, I pivoted and adjusted to meet the ever-evolving demands of my job, childcare, and home life.  With everything seemingly out of reach, my type-A personality screamed for me to grab hold of something, take control, and make a plan.  I decided to turn my focus to the one thing I knew I could control: my reaction to the changing world around me. I stayed informed as best I could, stocked up on the necessary supplies for my family, and prepared to hunker down.  At this point in time I was still actively training for Ironman 70.3 Santa Rosa so the schedule and routine of a training regimen helped me maintain a sense of calm and a level of normalcy. 

The following week I was notified I would be redeployed to an inpatient hospital unit to care for COVID-19 patients.  Days, nights, weekends, holidays. I would have to be available to work all of it. I worried about exposure due to my own personal risk factors (I have asthma and mitral regurgitation), the potential lack of sufficient personal protective equipment (PPE), and the possibility of bringing this disease home to my family. The anxiety I felt was palpable. Even the word “redeployment” itself was frightening.  Still, I couldn’t help but think that this was my call to go to war and fight for my patients and our way of life. 

It was about this time that Santa Rosa 70.3 was postponed leaving me with no race to train for.  Like most triathletes, my life is planned around my race training.  Losing that constant and routine was devastating and the fear of the unknown was weighing heavy on me. 

However, there was that part of me that was eager to help and to do my job.  Like waiting for the swim start siren to sound off, a fire lit inside me to take on this new challenge and to see what I was made of.  Triathletes make up an incredibly strong and supportive community, and I was ready to carry that positivity over into my redeployment role. I was excited to assist my peers on the front line. 

My first 3 shifts were from 7:00 pm to 8:00 am.  I haven’t worked the night shift in 13 years!  It was daunting, but working full time and raising a baby as a single mother taught me how to function on little sleep.  Add to that the countless races preceded by sleepless nights that are all too familiar to triathletes – I told myself that life had prepared me. I’d persevere and do what I needed to do. 

I’ve never really been a believer in needing to achieve “balance” in life.  I think there has to be give and take.  The scale is always tilted towards one side more than the other.  I think once people accept this, it can be very freeing.  Some days you’re killing it at home by getting your long workout done first thing in the morning, a home cooked meal on the table, and all of the homework done without pulling teeth.  Other days you decided to skip that recovery swim, you’re on day 4 of dry shampoo and a top knot, and you’re eating takeout pizza at 8pm after all of the extra curricular activities have come to an end.  Right now my career and helping others has taken precedence over my training.  I’m currently in maintenance mode (my Garmin concurs), which consists of getting workouts in on my days off and lots of stretching to help with mental clarity and boost immune function. 

I’ve now been redeployed for 4 weeks with at least another 4 weeks to go.  The work is tiring both mentally and physically.  I’ve learned that I can’t fix everyone.  I’ve seen a number of people succumb to this disease and it’s seemingly unfair. Some shifts are dark and sad and lonely.  But some are bright.  Sometimes I get to call a family member to tell them I’m sending their loved one home instead of telling them they have passed on.  Sometimes I get to put in a discharge order instead of signing a death certificate.  It’s the periods of light that get me through.  It’s like seeing my now-husband at mile 16 of the marathon when I’m in the depths of despair and wanting to quit. It’s the staff camaraderie, the letters of support from the community, the applause, and appreciation from complete strangers. That’s what keeps me going. Sometimes it takes tragedy and a pandemic to see the good and the blessings all around us. 

As we progress to the plateau of this pandemic, I will continue to fight this disease head on alongside my colleagues and make adjustments in my life in order to do so.  If I know one thing about triathletes, we will always find ways to adapt no matter the circumstances.  I look forward to the day when we can live in our new normal and swim, bike, and run freely once again.

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About the Author

Nicole is a plastic surgery Nurse Practitioner in New York. She currently works with breast cancer, facial reconstruction, and aesthetic medicine patients. She is an avid triathlete and a member of the NYPD Triathlon Team. Nicole recently completed her first Ironman 140.6 in November in Tempe, AZ. She resides on Long Island with her husband Tim, her son Ethan, and her dog Lucy.