fuuuuuuuuck meeeeeeeeee (a.k.a., The Whiney Post)

Prognosis is in......Slightly torn achilles tendon.

fuck.

Yesterday, my primary care physician was somewhat incredulous that I wasn't actually in pain, and scheduled an apt for me this morning with an orthopedic surgeon he knows that has a number of athletic clients.

This doctor, at the Leahy Clinic Orthopedic Surgery Dept., said no riding for at least two more weeks and 'normal' training will have to wait a month to commence, Provided I wear this during most of my waking hours:




Yup, that's my foot.

For the next month I an to eschew any activities that involve any sort of stress on the achilles tendon. This pretty much rules out any aerobic activities whatsoever. Even though she said I can ride in two weeks, she said I must do whatever it takes to restrict the movement of the tendon, and she suggested I try to find a way to ride with the boot. I asked about taping the ankle up really well, and her response first to make a disapproving frown, then said If I tried it, to be very cognizant of discomfort. Not pain, discomfort, and if I felt discomfort to stop immediately. If I don't wear the boot, according to the orthopedist, I stand a chance of creating a nodule on the tendon which will result in chronic tendonitis. Even still, she said no outdoor riding until I see her again in one month. Then she'll re-assess the knot on the tendon (actually visible) and make a recommendation from there.

I guess I'm going to be restricted to the machines in the gym. I can do quad work with a leg press, as long as I put all the force into the heel and don't flex the ankle. I can do leg flexion work as well (hamstrings, glutes), and of course there's nothing restricting me on core work. There's a new Yoga place that just opened up across the street from work, I can try that too.

The irony of this is that I spent six hours on my commuter bike this weekend, prepping it for this year. I had actually planned on riding in this week....weather permitting (I hate cold rain). I rebuilt the rear hub including the freehub, new chain, cassette, and a long overdue replacement of the index gear in the rear shifter (gotta luv that about campagnolo, a $40 indexing gear and it shifts like new).

Well, I was seriously wondering how much riding more than commuting I was going to be able to do this year, just because of other issues in my life mostly relating to that money pit in manch-vegas. I guess the decision has been made.

The Conspiracy Of One

It's worse that I thought.

After rest/ice on the achille's tendon for the past week, I attempted a ride sunday morning. It went from feeling absolutely no pain or discomfort in the past few days to a searing, stabbing sensation in less than 20 minutes. This was spinning an easy gear (39x16) with no hills.

fuck.

Now it's a day later and it's painful to walk up stairs again. I'll be calling my doctor this morning.

Yew Know Yew Wont Suuuuum!!!!

I can't believe I forgot to relay this little tidbit about the trip to georgia:

The day we got there was gorgeous. In fact it was the only nice day of the whole trip. As we were driving to the cabin, we had to pass through intersection in the local town. The Cheerleaders from the school had set up a fund drive in the middle of the intersection, selling dozen-boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts. They had actually stacked dozens of boxes in the middle of the intersection, hawking them to drivers. In their little colloquial drawl, the largest girl - presumptively a generous patron of Krispy Kreme donuts, was chanting "You know you want some", which sounded more phonetically like the title of this post.

It became the tagline for the rest of the trip.

finally getting to it

It struck me how this blog was supposed to be about cycling, yet to this point there has been absolutely _NO_ monologue about cycling.

Today, I will change that.

I recently came back from a week long trip to the mountains of north georgia, ostensibly a winter training camp. Seven men drove in a 25' motor home for 15 hours to a luxury cabin in the appalachian mountains, stayed for the week, then did the return trip.

We had:

A notorious and successful cat 3 (almost cat 2) who is possibly my regions best and most prolific race promoter.

Four master/3s of various abilities

A cat 1 and former member of the Junior National Team, albeit non-active for the past few years.

Me

Here's how the days of riding broke down:

Day Total Time Distance Avg. speed Elevation gain

1 2:16 35.69 15.7 4307

2 5:28 79.91 14.6 7560

3 4:20 66.13 15.2 7520

4 6:00 76.01 12.7 10998

5 3:33 54.75 15.4 5624

6 2:31 35.44 14 4422

Total 24:08:00 347.93 40431

Yup, that's right, 40 thousand feet of climbing in 6 days, almost 11000 of it in one 76 mile day.

To be fair, I didn't ride the last day, so I _only_ got 36,000 feet in.

"only".

I ended up straining my achilles' tendon on day 5. I certainly wasn't just that one day that did it, as I could feel it after the 11000 foot day. But it was enough to hobble me off the bike. It's been a week, and after resting and icing the ankle, I no longer have any pain for the first time. I'm going to try the stationary trainer tonight and see if it holds up.

Over the past 20 years, I experienced several recurring maladies which have conspired to keep me off the bike for a time that were _not_ results of crashes. Neck, shoulder, elbows, hands, back, knees, toes, quadriceps, even penile numbness, have all occurred more than once. Never have I had my achilles tendon flair up. And on this trip, I had slight cramping of the quads, but none of the other afore-mentioned pains, except for the achilles' tendon, which has never happened before.

These are two pictures of the driveway:


Come to find out it's about a 43 % pitch, No, that's not a typo, it's a 4, followed by a 3, the percent. Imagine riding 'home' to that after a 76 mile ride and 11000 feet of climbing.

Day two was the worst. Cold and rainy. I've never shivered that much on the bike. The only saving grace that day was being able to climb, since that warmed us up.

Here is the profile of the monster day (day 4):



Stats: 6:00 hours actual riding time
76.01 miles
10998 feet of climbing.

There was only one day where the temperature was appreciably above 50. That was day one and it was fucking beautiful, ~70, high thin clouds, no wind. The best we were able to muster after that was cloudy and in the 40's.

Epilogue:
It was overall a good time and we had fun. There was only one minor incident of people nerves flaring which was quickly resolved with apologies. And then there was the 'Boiled Egg Incident'.

One of the guys has a penchant for hard boiled eggs after a long ride. Whatever.

So on day 5 he puts a pot on the stove in the morning with 1/2 a dozen eggs in it.

Then we leave.

For over 4 hours.

We come back to a house filled with smoke, and exploded eggs _everywhere_. Some of the hard boiled bits landed a good 20 feet from the stove.

Of course, the guy whose name the house was in went ballistic. The rest of us pretty much waited outside until the yelling stopped. We were all laughing about it a few hours later.

I was clearly the least fit of the group. There was only one guy I was able to consistently beat to the tops of the climbs, and even then he stayed with the leaders a few times and beat me to the top. He weighs 215, I weigh 140. I suck.


Well, The better weather is approaching, and I'll be able to start riding to work in the next couple of weeks. That's the best training of all for me.

More on riding in the coming weeks!!!

Stick With Chocolate.

Stick With Chocolate

So yesterday was valentines day. Being the dutiful father and husband, I picked up cards and gifts for my wife and daughter.

Wife - A card from the 'love' section rather than the cheesy classless plethora of unimaginative, pink, sappy (or otherwise low-brow humor) valentine card section, and a small bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream.

Daughter - The card hunt was much more difficult, but I found a 'friendship' card that didn't sound like it came from one of her 12-year-old friends. Then, a small book called 'dadisms - what he says versus what he means'. A tongue-in-cheek review of quips and euphemisms that dads say to their kids. I though it was cute.

She didn't. While not totally dismissive, I got a quizzical sideways glance, an arrested smile, and an 'ooooooookaaaaaaayy'.

The wife was more appreciative. I'm not sure where I got the idea she liked an occasional Bailey's on the rocks. I'm sure I've seen her with a small snifter or old-fashioned glass on a chilly night.

But then again, maybe not.

She thanked me, followed with "I don't get it".

(sigh)

I expressed minor frustration, and relayed our daughters reaction.

"Well, what did you expect" she quipped. "it wasn't chocolate"

It wasn't. Indeed.

I should have known better. Earlier in the week I came home from work and found the two of them snacking on one of those legal-enveloped sized bars of Lindt (with hazelnuts) and watching American Idol.

They were giddy.

Note to self: Stick With Chocolate.

My Previous Life

This will be one in a series of random recollections of things I thought I would capture here for posterity:

Circa 1992 - My career as a field service engineer for a medical electronics company.

I was visiting Boston City Hospital to install an audiometric diagnostic system. Since there was alot of equipment to be moved, I went to unload the minivan at the loading dock. I was going to try and be courteous, by unloading the equipment, then moving the van to the parking garage right away. I was advised against this by the receiving clerk. He said I should move the equipment to where it was going right away. He didn't mind that I left it there, just the he said he didn't want to hear about it if I came back and things were missing.

Ok, up to the audiology department then. When I got there, I informed the department manager that I was there and asked if it was OK that I leave the equipment in the hall outside the exam room.

She was a professional black woman, obviously well educated, but also obviously a product of the local community.

"Leave it if you want, but I'm just tellin' ya, you all need to watch yo' goods. Here's the key, put it all in the room."

The van was left in the dock for over a 1/2 hour. No one seemed to mind that,not even the drivers waiting to get in.

apathy?

I should blog, or not.

I should get back to work, or not.
I should give a fuck, or not.
I should care, or at least pretend to care, or not.
I should........., or...not.

I should do alot of things. But I don't. Lately it's for no other reason than I just don't fucking care. The apathy is so intense, it fails to even approach the illusion attempting to put any thought into it whatsoever. A significant factor is the oppressive level of futility. When you truly believe there is nothing you can do about it, you cease to fucking care. That's where I am now.

So where do I go from here? How do I give myself that kick start to get my act together? To give the illusion to my co workers and family that I _am_ acting in the best interest of those involved? As if I really cared?

I know it's the right thing to do....Caring. I know that if my apathy becomes palpable enough, there will be repercussions. Long term implications of what a certain 12-year-old girl who (I think) looks up to me will take from ' when daddy stopped caring'.

Like it or not, I have a legacy
I'm responsible for,

and unless I want to end up responsible

for a trainwreck like this:

I'd better stop acting like this: