I’ve sat down to write this update post several times over the last two weeks. At first, it started as a positive, Christmas-themed piece. That didn’t work out so well, because even Santa Claus would have barfed at my overly enthusiastic attempt to find good in this situation. Then I tried to own the fact that I’m constantly sour, short-tempered, and wincing in pain, and that piece should have been titled “STFU and HTFU.”
I am all over the place here. It has been almost three weeks since this injury, and I have spent that time vacillating wildly between optimistic! and IHATEEVERYTHING.
When I got home from the hospital, I got on the trainer that night and spun at 35 watts for an hour. It was feeble and awkward, but I did it and was happy to have only missed one day of riding. It didn’t seem to make my back any worse, so I got back on the bike the next morning with the goal of averaging a very easy 75 watts for the hour. That felt fine and then twenty minutes in, I got pissed off at the whole situation and ended up doing the intervals that would have been required for that week’s training. I didn’t feel any worse after the ride than I did before and spent the rest of the day recovering flat on my back, so it seemed okay when I got on the trainer the next morning to do a one-hour endurance ride and finished two hours later.
That’s how it has continued. Each day I set riding goals that seem manageable, they feel easy when I start riding, and then I smash through the goals and ride like a bat out of hell. I’m partially motivated by a desire to stick with my scheduled training, partially motivated by the idea that I’m now a professional cyclist, and partially motivated by fear that cutting out all training but riding will set me back. These motivations combine to ensure that I smash the fuck out of the pedals every single time I get on the bike, and then spend the rest of the day hobbling around like a 96-year-old woman.
But I consider myself lucky, because even though the pain can sometimes make me shriek and want to throw fragile things at the wall just to watch them shatter, I can still ride. It’s probably not helping me heal faster, but for the most part, pedaling does not hurt. You are reading this and thinking I sound insane: cannot walk or pick up a gallon of milk but insists on riding? But that ability to ride is saving me right now. When it feels like this damn injury will never heal, when I am afraid to sneeze or laugh too hard, when I worry that I’ll be less good in the future because I can’t lift weights anymore, I focus on the fact that I can still ride my bike and that matters more than anything else.
I can’t finish this post without mentioning the death of Burry Stander. My back hurts and that sucks, but I am alive and will get to ride my bike tomorrow. I cannot describe how grateful I am for that ability, especially when that same gift was unfairly taken from somebody so successful, young, and promising. When I go out to ride now, I think about him, about how sad and unnecessary his death was, and how I and every cyclist owe it to him to make the most of each ride simply because we still can.
As a South African, and a follower of your blog, I’d like to just say thanks for your mention of Burry Stander. I’m not sure the rest of the world realizes just how important he was to cycling for us, he was going to be a World Champion, and a shining example of what a sportsman should be.
He trained hard, and was the most grounded and friendliest guy you could ever meet, the type of guy who would coast back to us hotel after a race and chat to the amateurs about his course experience.
He was a family man, having married recently to a professional cyclist, and helped out at his families cycle shop. His last words to his wife Cherise were words of love.
I cannot put into words just how deeply Burry’s death has affected the South African cycling community – it spurned one of the biggest critical masses in his native KwaZulu-Natal that I have ever attended, and I’m not afraid to admit the moment brought tears to my eyes.
Your words ring true with many of us; with our aches and pains (some more serious than others) we have to as often as possible take the time to appreciate what we have and how we have to enjoy every second we can; because the alternative, not being able to ride, well that would just be terrible.
I look forward to many more posts from you, and wish you good health and of course success!
As I read your blog post, I can’t help but think of what just happened to RG3 and the now big debate of “playing” when you’re injured versur playing when you’re hurt. Sure, after his knees was injured, he could walk,jog, probably run, and throw, but he couldn’t do any of those things at 100% because he was hurt. Now he’s going to be home watching the rest of the football season, with plenty of time for his knee to heal back to 100%. But, you’re a smart lady, so I’m sure you’ve probably had the debate with yourself, but I wouldn’t let your “pro” obsessiveness get in the way of you being able to eventually race at 100%. Although I will say selfishly that it will be a little more dramatic and exciting watching you beat up on people in races with a jacked up back!
Take time off that you need, you will actually be better for it. When I got acute tendinitis in my knee about 3 years ago, I was off the bike for about 3 weeks getting ART weekly, then spent 3 more weeks doing insanely slow ass boring rides on paved trails to make sure I didn’t aggravate the knee again. Then jumped into the 12 Hours of CM race with only 1 week of real riding in my legs and set PRs on every single lap I did on my team, to the point my teammate made me do a set of double laps so he could actually get some rest between his laps.