Coma to Comeback

Oh, well, hello there, explorer of the Internet and clicker of all that is good and clickable. I can assume you arrived because you have a desire to thrive. My name is Ronnie Toth and I have sought after thriving my whole life.

From a young age, I had a desire to do things that were deemed impossible or "too hard." I was often told I was too young and should wait until I got older to run a marathon or compete in an Ironman Triathlon. As a stubborn 17-year-old lad I had my dad drive me 26.2 miles from home, where I hopped out of the truck, laced up my running shoes and tossed my final lifeline of a flip phone to my dad. There would be no turning back or bailout via a simple cell phone call. In a certain "burning of the ships," I was all in. Off I went: a full marathon's distance from home carrying only a Camelback of water, pretzels and honey to keep me fueled. To the amazement of my folks, who had been waiting for a collect phone call from a whimpering and empty young man, I arrived home some 3 hours and 30 minutes later.

This was only the beginning of what would become a life of self-induced pain, intentional seeking of stupid-hard challenges, and a desire to see others hunt down their dreams with reckless abandon by laying waste to the demons luring them with a soft, cushy life couch-side and yapping at them to quit. Since that first marathon at 17 years old, I have run another 10 marathons, which led to borrowing my mom's old 10-speed bike and starting triathlons as well. Two years later, at the age of 19, I competed in my first Ironman Triathlon at the Vineman Full in Santa Rosa, California and finished 8th overall amongst the pros with a time of 10 hours and 13 minutes. As I was the youngest competitor, the crowd was astonished to see me mix it up with some of the best athletes in the nation.

Since then, I have had the radical sabbatical of an opportunity to complete four full Ironmans and some 110 triathlons of varying distance, finishing as the overall winner in 26 of those races. I have a strange goal — trying to have an overall triathlon win for every year I have been alive — so it seems I have some work to do putting wins in the bank since I likely won't be winning when I'm 70.

In a unique twist, after nearly a decade of racing triathlons at the elite level, I found I had cultivated an ability to ride a bike quite fast. "Heck, why not give my hand, or rather legs, a try at pro bike racing," I thought. Those who are familiar with USA Cycling will know there is a category system that requires riders to participate in ten Category 5 races before they can begin acquiring wins and become a Category 1 racer with the ability to race in pro races. Given my cardio base from triathlon and penchant for suffering, I was able to move from a Cat 4 novice to a Cat 1 pro in a matter of 4 months. In a sport where upgrading one category can take most people a year or more, I was able to use my time trial ability from Ironman to do well in stage races and facilitate a crazy, fast upgrade process.

However, tragedy soon struck during one of the largest pro races in the nation. At the Manhattan Beach Grand Prix I was bumped into a metal barrier by another racer, by no fault of his, during the final sprint — only 100 feet from the finish line. What went from being a pretty decent paycheck turned into nearly every bone in my face shattered, a free-floating jaw, and a compound fracture that caused the humerus bone in my bicep to come through the skin. After losing one-third of my blood, I was put into a medically induced coma for a week. The last thing I remember was asking, "How bad is it? Will I ever walk again?"

When I awoke from the slumber, I began to think, "You can either sit here and feel bad for yourself, or you can use this opportunity to become the man you want to be for the rest of your life." Knowing that self pity kills, I made the conscious decision to do whatever it took to get back on the carbon pony's saddle and to see this as an opportunity to bring tangible change to my life. During the first days home after 3 weeks in the ICU, I could barely walk. I would crawl over to the mirror, look at my mangled face, peer straight through my eyes at my soul and ask myself, "Who are you and who do you want to become?" I would then crawl outside and sit in the sun. Like a plant attempting photosynthesis, I was looking for anything I could do to expedite my healing process. As I sipped freshly juiced fruits and vegetables through my wired-shut jaw, my body began to do what it miraculously does best: heal. And heal it did. One month after the accident I got back on the bike. Jaw wired shut, gasping for air, I slowly turned the pedals. Having been in a coma and unable to eat, my body had cannibalized itself and ate my quads and glutes to sustain the rest of my body. My 6'2" frame went from 175 lbs to 150 lbs. Ever looking for an angle of how to bring palatable change to my life, I began to pedal with one leg to build the muscle back. That first stationary ride, I made it 20 minutes before being overcome with exhaustion and oxygen debt from struggling through a wired-shut mouth. The next day I rode 40 minutes, 80 minutes the next, and then for my fourth ride I snuck out of the house — against doctors orders — and rode 40 miles to where I hopped into the local Tuesday/Thursday group ride practice race at the Pasadena, CA Rose Bowl stadium.

Friends and peers looked at me as if they had seen a ghost, shocked at my appearance after watching me nearly bleed out only one month prior on the scene at the Manhattan Beach Grand Prix. Over the course of the next 30 miles, I was dropped four times and, with my cardio vascular strength and musculature gone, I looked labor camp victim thin. With hope instilled and a face and body still broken and healing, held together by titanium and sheer will power, I returned two days later and was able to survive the full hour at 27 mph without being dropped. Elation swept over me as I realized I was a walking (riding) miracle. I was not only fortunate enough to walk again after a horrific accident, but to ride, and ride I did. With a new found fire I promised myself that I would never lack motivation again. I wrote down all the terrible experiences of recovery — from having a hole cut in my neck to allow for a tracheostomy breathing tube to the feeling of choking on blood as I slowly suffocated. In 1999 when I was 12 years old I began taking only freezing cold showers in order to build mental toughness. It's been nearly 2 decades now of only cold showers and it certainly must have helped to create a strong and resilient mind. By intentionally putting myself in the pain cane it made it all the more tolerable once I was in it against my will post coma to comeback.

Motivation and inner fire in tow, I began training more and more, slowly building my body back up to my former self. Ten weeks after the accident I managed to win a race, attacking from the gun and soloing 40 miles at 26 mph for the overall win.

Friends, seldom are we given the chance to find out what we are made of. We can often simulate this by intentionally subjecting ourselves to adversity in training, but I was given a rare opportunity to look death square in the eye and decide who I wanted to be. After returning to Category 1 pro bike racing, I realized that life will throw its punches but it is our duty to realize that the pain will not last forever; the onslaught will one day slow and in that moment we can choose who we seek to be.

(Below- First time back on bike post coma riding stationary with tracheostomy tube still in)

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I hope you can join me in this journey of "Thriving On." As we experiment with our bodies, minds and souls, I seek to facilitate an environment where hope can be shared, inspiration given and life abundantly made a reality. Whether your goal is to simply get active and lose weight through exercise, finish a 5k, upgrade your cycling game, run a marathon, or even smash out an Ironman Triathlon I seek to partner with you in providing tangible tools that will allow you to Thrive On!

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(Rib harvested to be made into a nose to repair my face post coma)![image.jpeg]

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Thrive we shall, thanks for reading. Stay tuned for regular pick me up, inspiration, and motivation ✊🏽