Running, Cycling & Skiing with my little friend
By Michael Anderson
Since getting my cochlear implant a year ago I have read many, many stories on the joys of recovered hearing. Most are moving accounts of individuals once again hearing the waves on the beach, the wind in the trees or a loved one's voice. Others joyfully discover for the first time that mobile phone keys, car indicators and microwaves beep. Many rediscover pleasure in music.
However, nobody was writing or talking about the special pleasure received, but special care you need to take, when doing strenuous exercise, while wearing your processor. As a keen runner, mountain and road biker and skier, this aspect of post switch-on life has fascinated me. Many of my early questions at assessment focussed on this. Exercise was more important to me than, say, being able again to answer a phone.
After a year I feel I am now something of an expert on Exercise and Your Implant and the news is all good.
Running with your processor on is no concern. Remarkably, it stays in place and is quickly forgotten. A cap helps, of course, and, in fact, you really need one, for sun protection. And the benefits are great. With friends you can once again join in conversation that helps speed up the passing of the kilometres and takes your mind off the pain in your lungs. There are some oddities: is that really my breathing I can hear so loudly? Do my feet really thump the pavement like an elephant stampede?
Cycling is an entirely different story because of the equipment involved. You will almost certainly need a new helmet to fit your 'bigger head' and finding one that covers the magnet and holds it firmly in place can be tricky. My old helmet is too tight but I'm too tight to replace it as well. The mix of sunglasses, helmet straps and processor can be a nuisance but, once you are all kitted up and out on the road or trail with friends, it is so much more fun than in your deaf days. Conversation is a breeze and the camaraderie that comes from mates ribbing each other, re-telling tall stories of their cycling triumphs and disasters, or discussing their families, politics and sport is very rewarding.
The wind over the microphone can be a bit loud sometimes but then you are also much safer. Finally, you can actually hear trucks and cars approaching from behind, scary and all as that can be. On a long ride you now know if you have a disaster you will be able to phone home or communicate with strangers, if you need help. And, naturally, a stop at a café to order your flat white is a joy.
Skiing I wear a helmet to protect my head and all its foreign bits. (My wife made me!) They are not expensive, fit comfortably over your head and ear and, once you get used to one, you'll never return to a beanie. For one thing, they are warmer. For another your processor is fixed firmly in place so that after a spill you are not frantically searching for your implant in a snow drift. The processor is also kept warmer and drier, especially if it starts snowing during the day. And, as with cycling and running, it's a pleasure to be able to talk to your skiing buddy, in my case, my wife Jan, in the chairs and over lunch.
One draw back - approaching snow boarders now sound frighteningly loud and close, though they may be far away, but then one can't complain about hearing too well.
Through all this, you do need to keep your little friend (processor) as dry as possible. Fortunately, they are hardy little animals that so far seem well capable of withstanding being bathed in sweat for up to 5 or 6 hours at a time, (for example, a mountain bike ride). I do always carry a water-proof container to pop mine into if it starts to rain - I do live in the far south of New Zealand, after all. My water-proof container? A small, plastic Marmite jar. Perfect.
I love exercising with my implant; I also love that I can choose to leave it behind when I'm on my own and exercise deaf, if I want to. The solitude, peace and quiet are special, unique to us guys, and I smile every time. It's my pleasure to hear; it's also my pleasure to be deaf. It's something those with full hearing can never, ever experience, just shutting out that noisy, troublesome world whenever we choose. That I now have that choice is of constant astonishment to me.