SLEDHEAD?

In a recent article published in the New York Times, Matthew Futterman looked at the deaths of retired but still young sliding athletes. Deaths at their own hands, whether accidentally or deliberately. He proposes and makes a good case for a link between sledding, brain damage, and suicide.

As a founding member of the Jamaica Bobsleigh Team, four-time Olympian, and architect of the most famous crash in Olympic Sport, I have some experience with hitting my head repeatedly. I was active for twelve years in the sport and had four concussions during this time, two of which required hospitalization. As a self-taught driver, I have been on my head more than most. Crashing on four consecutive descents in the Horse-Shoe curve in St. Moritz and crashing after the finish curve later that week would put me in the ICU for 4 days. While testing a new sled just before the 1998 Olympics (Nagano) on a relatively easy track with which I was very familiar (Igls, Austria), I crashed six times in nine runs in the same curve all in one afternoon, ending the session with another hospitalization.

In between, I finished 14th overall in the 1994 games in Lillehammer, 10th on the final two heats, and the 7th Nation overall, which remains a record for a non-traditional (and yes, black) male driver in Olympic Bobsleigh Competition.

My father, an aunt, and an uncle have all died from Alzheimer's. This makes me high risk. By the time my father was my age (58), he had already begun to noticeably deteriorate, and was dead at 74. In the normal course of things, I should be on an accelerated curve. Despite this, I feel fine and have never been sharper mentally. I could tell you that this is due to good, clean living, but that would not be true. I have led an extremely stressful life, in which I have built and lost fortunes. In conversation with a friend he said, without looking up from his laptop, “Yes, it is tough, but suicide going to create more problems than it solves.” I discovered I was suicidal. Not quite at Leonard Cohen's swimming pool of whiskey, but well beyond a hot tub. By now I should be dead or dumb. It is not painless, but every morning I am up with the dawn and ready to fight another day.

There is a reason for this, I am sure, and here’s what I think based on my experience. It was during the St. Moritz 1990 World Championships, while I was lying in an ICU, when Swiss bobsledder and eventual two and four-man winner Gustav Weder was caught adjusting the ice in the Horse-Shoe Curve. I took this as a vindication of my position after having crashed there four times consecutively the week before. I complained that the curve was not right, but was paid scant attention. Those 4 crashes took a toll on my training helmet, which was of BMW manufacture and designed for a single impact. Money was short and helmets were expensive, and while there was rigorous inspection of race helmets, there wasn’t much for the training helmets. So, we kept our race helmet pristine and wore training helmets that you could push your thumb through. On the first day of four man training I was having mixed feelings; the evening before I had watched Nelson Mandela released from prison, only then to witness Buster Douglas knock Mike Tyson out. But I was in my four man, a place where I was always more comfortable (your sled tends to do what you want, unlike the two-man). We hit 136km per hour on the most beautiful ice on the planet with a near-perfect run (Horse Shoe, of course, was now perfect after Herr Weder's intervention). Then, disaster struck. After the final curve was a counter curve, designed to allow for an extension of the braking stretch. The brakeman has to be perfect here; to apply the brakes immediately after the finish clocks, release them for the counter curve, then back on hard to get to 0 from 136 over a few meters. Suffice it to say, and not for the first time, though it would be the last, the person entrusted with the braking maneuver got it all wrong. We entered the counter curve at pretty much the same speed as we exited the finish, then the brakes were applied with some force in the curve, I lost control, and over we tumbled. Now as crashes go, this was a baby, if it weren’t for the eggshell on my head. I woke up surrounded by monitors, tubes, and people in green coveralls. It was years later when I realised that what I thought was a nice private room was, in fact, an ICU. Turned out I was very ill, and any movement would induce a bout of vomiting. I was monitored constantly. On day three, the nurse (betraying a hint of surprise) informed me that I tested negative for HIV, but had pretty much every other virus that was going around. On day four, I was released.

It took a year to fully regain the use of my right hand, which is tricky business when you fly helicopters for a living and need to consistently land in a confined area. Friday afternoons were particularly bad, often with no less than two-hundred cheques on my desk and twenty people outside my door waiting on them to be signed. You should try jotting your signature while holding the pen with both hands. To this day, I use a mouse left-handed, as I do with most other tasks that require fine motor skills.

Eight years later, on New Years' day of 1998, we were back in Igls Austria, testing the newly acquired sled that we took to the Nagano Olympics. We went directly from the airport to the track, and I was experimenting with a then new compound, melatonin, to combat jet lag. I can now say with some certainty that melatonin works much better taken before bed than on rising. I am stubborn by nature, and after six descents (I had only planned to do three) we had three successful runs and three crashes. The following three runs went 0 - 3, and ended with me literally back in ‘97, wondering, “Who are these people? Where are we, and why?” We could not afford the ICU, so I signed the half-dozen forms accepting responsibility for my actions and my brother spent the night waking me up every hour. My recovery was swift, the melatonin went down the toilet, and we went on to compete in Nagano.

The difference between those two concussions was my state of health. In 1993, I took on Sam Bock, a Canadian, as coach, and he introduced me to optimum health. He gave me an extensive reading list, but two of the most important were How to Live Longer and Feel Better, by Linus Pauling, and Fats that Heal and Fats that Kill, by Udo Erasmus. The theory was that we would get the body really healthy and able to recover from stress very quickly, then increase the intensity of training. We put that theory to the test, with insane levels of intensity which would convert me from a below-average to an above-average athlete, able to compete at the highest level.

But the real benefit was the absence of infectious diseases and the slowing of degenerative ones. We’re coming up to 30 years now, and I know my brain has repaired itself. I do not fear Alzheimer's. Using careful nutrition, vitamin and mineral supplementation, and specific supplements for brain function, I am convinced can slow down, halt or reverse brain damage. The evidence is mounting, but if you are an athlete in a sliding sport, do not hesitate to research and begin to take care of your brain today.

I am with this NY Times article right up to the point where people start killing themselves; the link between brain damage and suicide. Eugenio Monti (Bobsleigh GOAT) was 75, sick, and with his best years behind him when he sadly took his own life. I have not done any scientific research, but I am going to venture the opinion from observation that these self-inflicted deaths of sliding athletes is a relatively recent phenomenon. The lives lost here were just beginning, with everything to live for.

Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) leads to Post Traumatic Depression (PTD), which is commonly treated with antidepressants. Antidepressants, especially SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors), have been linked to increased suicide risks for young people. I have been unable to find any research specifically on SSRIs and TBI directly, but I think it reasonable to expect that someone with inhibited mental function taking antidepressants, probably in conjunction with other drugs, will increase their risk of suicide. The New York Times, while not going into the details, made it clear that all the individuals committing or attempting suicide were on medication.

Simply put, I do not think that TBI in and of itself is responsible for the deaths. But in combination with the drugs used to treat the symptoms (PTD), it is probably deadly.

If you are a sliding athlete this is what I think: You are far safer today than I was 30 years ago. The technology, regulations, and awareness make it far less likely for you to get hurt. Cynthia from Canada has pointed out on Social Media that the banning of padding around the head on the interior of sleds needs to be rethought by IBSF. You will suffer micro-injuries and maybe a large one, but if you are properly fed and supplement your diet with vitamins, minerals and brain friendly substances, you are likely to repair yourself over time. I strongly advise that you stay away from drugs, whether prescription or otherwise. Be particularly sceptical of antidepressants if you have suffered a brain injury. And if you are feeling depressed, seek other treatments; they do exist.