Right when you think I should be busy blogging about all of the IMAZ training adventures, I took a blogging break.
I intentionally chose to spare the World Wide Web from three to four posts a week detailing my attempts at training, but mostly complaining about my knee and my forever changing perception of the future.
I felt like I didn’t have any value to add and would most likely be overusing three words: Knee. Hurt. Shit (or some other expletive).
One minute I’ll be up and think that everything is going to be ok (i.e. see last post), then the next thing you know I’m at mile 25 of a ride and balling my eyes out.
This past Friday, I finally ran a successful 9+ miles on Friday. I was pumped! Then on Saturday, I had a 3,000-yard open water swim and a 70-mile ride on tap. I was a bit nervous about the swim as I hadn’t been in the open water in a bit, but it turned out to be a breeze. I was completely comfortable in the water, didn’t experience any anxiety and just made my way through the water like it was no big thing. All of the swimming was paying off.
Fast forward an hour and a half and I’m 20 miles into a ride with a new cycling buddy and I’m trying to hold back my tears and look like a babbling idiot. Why is it doing this?! What is happening?! It doesn’t hurt while I’m riding, but the moment I stop, I can feel my knee tightening up back to the pain level of the early days.
I got to my car (the finish of the first loop), threw my bike into the car and had mentally decided that I would be backing out of the race. There’s no way I could do 112 miles and a marathon in two months. F*$#.
Right when I got to my car, my friend Jared called me as he got a flat and needed a ride. I sucked up my tears and went to meet him, Ilona and Coach Paul. I picked Jared up, we went to the bike store and while he was in the store buying new tubes, I was calling and interrupting Chicken Face on his vacation in a full-blown melt down. It was horrible. When Jared came back out, I sucked it up and headed back. By the time we got back to the parking lot, it had been almost 30 minutes and my knee had calmed down.
Coach Paul asked me how my knee was doing, and strangely, it was fine. Not perfect, but not having its crazy cramping issues. Given that my pain didn’t occur while riding, Paul wanted me to go back out riding and try to finish the ride. What my coach says, I do. So I went back out and was determined to see what would happen.
Have I mentioned how amazing Coach Paul is? Not only does he put up my crazy texts, emails and tears, but he stayed with me the entire ride and talked to Ilona and I the entire way through. The temps were quickly heating up, but I just kept it in an easier gear and tried to keep my cadence up instead of mashing through the ride.
While I could feel my knee slightly, it wasn’t as bad as the first 25 miles. Thus, I kept riding and successfully rode almost 65 miles – I was ecstatic.
Within three or so hours, I had sobbed like a baby and given up all hope, then reverted to the other extreme of maintaining some sense of sanity. I was (and still am) a mess.
Coach Paul assures me that I will get to the starting line, but every morning I wake up with a new idea of what’s going to happen. I’m afraid that everything I’ve worked for isn’t going to happen and I’m afraid of letting myself and everyone who has supported me down.
I’m going to continue training, rolling, icing, massaging, going to the chiro and going to the doctor (per my mom’s consistent requests). Tomorrow I’m going to get re-fit for my bike as I’m 99% sure it has something to do with cycling (I’ve never had knee pain in all my years of running).
The bruising I got from rolling out the exact injury area a couple weeks ago. I now no longer do that and I don’t get any bruising.
Here’s to taking each day one at a time and hopefully crossing the finish line come November 18th.