“Not ridin’…”
By choice, though. Well, not “choice”. More “required”.
I seriously doubt that this post will continue in a three-syllable-per-sentance format for the remainder of the missive, as, though it would certainly be a good excercise, the format would become quickly tiresome - though in a perhaps Hemmingway-esque manner - before anything important got related.
(Clauses are my friend…)
Today marks two full weeks of being off the bike - no easy pedaling, commuting, running a quick errand, loafing on the trainer or heading into the hills. I expect that I’ve been a little less fun to live with, but at least have the dog to walk and a little gym-time-on-other-muscles to help clear my head. As I lamented (whined about?), I missed the Lion of Fairfax, Carlos’ Mixed-Terrain Ride, the Pilarcitos Brisbane CX race and a number of really nice days. My new Hilsen is wondering in horror just what kind of sick household it has been delivered too, where bikes hang for weeks without being ridden. Luckily, it’s in the stall next to the Quickbeam, so things should be going something like this,
AHH: “I’ve only been ridden a few times. Now, we’re just hanging here and he only comes in to look at us before he goes to sleep. I would’ve been better off going to a shop!”
QB: “Don’t worry. This is an aberration.”
Yeah, so, anyway…
Since TV shows now seem to require recaps even though you’ve only been gone for the length of a commercial break (and because I’m probably a little bit pissier this morning, let’s call it what it is - the commercials pause for show breaks…), I might as well bring things up to date: My mid-right calf twanged on a ride a few months ago. Painful, and noticeable as it was a sudden change, but it lessened quickly and I finished the ride. Except it stayed sore and noticeable, worse when I dropped my heel a bit and used more power. As I was running more in anticipation of CX season, it didn’t hurt, but felt sore and tightened up pretty good after my plodding ended. Then as I felt good running and started adding “speed work” (a relative term…) it said, “Nope. Not in the contract.” and left no question as to “running through the pain”. Took a week off running (but kept riding), as the first CX race loomed, and then went out to practice dismounts and trots two weeks ago last night to see if that layoff was enough. It warn’t. Riding home hurt more than it shoulda, too. Since it hurt only when my knee was bent, that seemed to indicate the soleus muscle. Most of what I’ve read said that a couple weeks off would either fix it or it was serious. So, no riding or running. Which is more or less where we are now. I’ve got one more massage/ultrasound session today for good luck, and may even take a bike down off the rack this weekend.
There’s a Pilarcitos race on the 21st, which may be a bit of a suffer-fest, given my current fitness level. But, we gotta see if everything holds together first. That’s in the future. Gotta just take a small bite and chew what’s on my plate right now.
These two weeks have been kinda goofy. It feels a little like the end of summer vacation, when you suddenly wonder where all the time went and how come nothing got done. But, I figured I’d be bouncing off the walls by now, due to lack of ride-time. Not so. Felt kinda loggy and tired for most of it, so maybe the timing was good and I was fighting something. I do know that during a weekend class I had, it seemed as though my brain wasn’t quite there either. I guess if you notice it at the time, that’s a good sign…
But, the end result is that the bikes didn’t get teched, the galleries were only fitfully updated and pruned, and the piles-to-deal with still lie in wait. It’s the kinda thing that could get you a bit depressed, given the influx of grey days and the first fall rains.
On the other hand, walking doesn’t hurt a bit, so the little dog - Hula, not Tashi - has enjoyed some longer than normal routes which start a bit earlier in the day. Though it has had me snapping cam-phone photos of dubious quality, the pre-dawn walks seem particularly helpful in spurring writing. Well, more or less.
I get these moments of clarity as the little dog trots along, sniffing, pulling, pausing and peeing. Sentances reveal themselves which give pleasure, which seem to have just the right combination of detachment and intensity, description and suggestion. Occasionally, there’s a clear and Important Thought. Too often, when I get home, they don’t directly translate to paper or screen. It’s frustrating, but a challenge I do enjoy.
Out on the walks, these topics and sentances are brightly colored fish that swim and flutter tantalizingly close.
You grab one and carefully nurse it home. It seems vibrant and powerful and upon returning, you throw it in the tank. But, somehow the colors aren’t quite as intense. Occasionally, it recovers from the shock and slowly begins to swim. With careful and watchful feeding, it gains some strength. Most however, wobble slowly and mostly float suspended in the water, until they begin to bob up, their color faded and gills ceasing action. You feel bad, because you want them all to make it.
Then again, some days you feel that it’s all a too-simple game - itself a distraction. You can look up, way up above your head and see the shining hovering circle that is the surface. Way up there. Beyond the breath you have, maybe. And you realize that maybe you’re just screwing around, playing with fish, instead of trying with all your might to reach the surface.
That’s not helpful either. I’ll discard that thought and remember in the words of those wiser than me, “Keep Pedaling, It Will Get Better.”
and so, with a smile to face the day…