A Soggy Ride

Soggy weather or not, I found heaven.  This morning I shed the glances from other moms at the carpool drop off at my boys' school.  I wore 3 layers on top and bike shorts on the bottom.  I'm sure they were thinking, "That lady is nuts!"  But a little rain never stopped my running.  Who cares if traveling at 18 mph forces the water droplets to pelt my face and leave a constant stream of water running down my glasses?  The roads were empty and the animals were out en force.

I've never seen the Platte River this high.  It was spilling over the edges by a good 6 feet.  The water lapped the edges of the bicycle underpass.  But the sound of rushing water provided peace and serenity. 

The best time to enjoy a wildlife refuge is in cooler temperatures, when you can actually see animals.  The rain drizzled constantly, cooling my body efficiently, and finally proving to my husband that my $100 cycling rain jacket I bought two years ago was a great find!  I rode 17 miles around Chatfield State Park, keeping to the paths and roads that hugged the reservoir.  All of the clouds hung low and because I was one of a very select few weirdos who braved the weather, it was utterly silent.   

Those are vultures.

At one point, I rode along a dirt path atop the dam, admiring the 100 foot drop to either side of me.  Swallows swooped daringly in front of my bike by the dozens, greedily grabbing at the invisible insects.  They didn't seem to notice or care about my presence and instead protected me from a constant battering of bug juices on my handlebars.   

Several deer hunkered down in the woods, enjoying the peace, standing erect and proud like statues.

For once I wasn't rushed.  I didn't feel like I had anywhere to be or a speed to conquer.  Because of the quiet, my competitive spirit slept, finally leaving me to enjoy the ride.  I stopped often, watching the herons, vultures, deer, bunnies, and song birds.  My mind drifted and I had some time to process the news from last week.  My life is complete.  I can do everything except run, and while there may always be a hole begging to be filled, I am not in any hurry to undergo another surgery.   This decision needs more time.  I'm not giving up on running, just taking a planned break; and this time it will be my choice.

FYI clipless shoes aren't ideal for hiking.

Meet BlueBelle.  Today, I christened my road bike as a cyclocross bike.  She took it like a champ!

For one full year I have done physical therapy every single week. I've been in constant rehabilitation mode and not had the opportunity to enjoy activities.  Throughout the healing process I kept telling myself, "When I get back out there, I won't take it for granted."  By constantly wanting to run, I'm taking what I can do for granted.  I've worked hard to get to this point.  Last year I couldn't ride a bike or sit in a car for any period of time as the pain was unbearable.  I have my life back and I want to enjoy this summer filled with cycling, mountain biking, hiking, camping, Pilates, and swimming.  Surgeries come with risk and rehabilitation, no matter what a surgeon says.  They don't have to live with the consequences of their words.  I do.  For now, I am going to make my own adventures and ride on, rain or shine.


~Roadburner 

My Surgery Officially Didn't Work

One year ago I ran the Colfax Marathon for the second time.  Fourteen miles into the race I felt a strong pull on the inside of my leg.  It started in my groin and shot to my knee.  Each additional mile it pierced through my muscles growing worse, until finally around mile 21 everything went numb.  Crossing the finish line, the pain revived and walking became increasingly difficult.  I thought it was simply due to the race and things would recover after some much deserved rest.

I didn't run for three weeks.  When I returned to running, the pain returned.  Eight weeks went by and I couldn't run for more than a quarter mile without pain shooting down my groin.  So I sought the help of a physical therapist who did everything in his power to strengthen the muscles around my hip and groin.  Nothing worked.  Physical therapy seemed to make things so much worse, increasing the pain and inflammation to the point that I took on a strong limp just walking around the grocery store.  By August I'd seen two separate physical therapists and underwent a series of tests.  Everything led me to August 28, 2014 where I surrendered all doubt and let a surgeon reshape my entire hip socket and give me a new labrum to cushion the bones.  For a full month I was bed ridden.  I read my boys stories and helped them with their homework from my bed, while a machine moved my leg and a brace supported the structure.  Neighbors and friends brought us food and cared for our kids.  I was humbled and grateful.

Six months later I was supposed to be fully healed and able to attempt running again through a couch to 5K program, but the exact same groin pain returned every time I attempted running.  In every way I was stronger than ever.  All of this weight lifting and strength work defined new muscle in my legs, swimming kept my lungs fit.  But my groin still shot arrows of pain.  I went to a new physical therapist hoping a new set of eyes and hands were what I needed.  It helped a lot for two months and brought a lot of the inflammation in my hip down, but I still can't run.

It's time to face the facts.  The surgery didn't work.

If it worked, I wouldn't have the EXACT same pain every single time I returned to my sport.  So I started researching again and found other runners like me who'd gone through very similar events who had a sports hernia.  Essentially it is a tear in your abductor muscle that won't heal and every time you return to the sport that originally injured you, it will come back.  It will come back 90 years after the injury.  It never goes away.  Ever.  The only option is a quick 5 minute surgery where they cut the abductor away from your body.  Within 10 days you are back to a normal life.

I saw a sports hernia specialist yesterday.  "Your hip surgery was a waste.  You never needed it.  I'll put money on that.  What you have is a groin injury.  Not a hip injury.  I see this all the time in runners and it is really sad because you give up so much for nothing."  The doctor looked me straight in the eyes as he said this.  It's been a long year.  I've been patient and open-minded.  I've tried new things and put myself in new situations hoping it would make me stronger and better.  I've put faith in people that perhaps didn't deserve it.  And here I sat looking at a man with pitiful eyes apologizing for another man's mistakes.

I'm angry and so tired of this nonsense.  One full year of physical therapy, 8 months of rehabilitation and pain, and a false hope this would ever work.  But it wouldn't work.  My hip wasn't the problem.  So now here I sit with a new set of questions.  The doctor asked me if running is worth it.  "Have you considered never running again?  If you just don't run you won't need this.  If you want to run, I can fix you, but I fully understand after everything you've been through why you may want to wait."

Yes, I've considered never running again.  I've considered it every day for a year.  But I miss running.  I miss it so much it is stupid.  Running is after all, just a sport.  There are lots of replacements out there to get your buzz, why does it have to be the one thing that seems to reject me?  I love biking and I have 2 beautiful bikes.  One is a road bike that took me 21 peaceful miles yesterday along a beautifully paved river trail.  The other is a mountain bike that handles bumps and curves like a jaguar eager to pounce.  And while I love biking, it isn't the same as running.  Running is pure and transparent.  It isn't about technology and gears, it isn't about how big your tires are or how much your components weigh.  It's about you and a simple pair of shoes.  What is more pure than that?  When I run it is only my two feet carrying me places and nothing more.  It is independent and uncomplicated.  This time away for the last year has brought me to fully accept and appreciate that purity more than anything else.  I've worked long and hard at trying to find a replacement, but nothing exists.  Nothing is as simple as it is to run.

I ran 1.37 miles today.  I wanted my groin to hurt; perhaps as some sick sadistic punishment forcing the pain out of me, or maybe just to make sure I still enjoy it.  I ran fast and hard, making a point of passing another runner 100 yards ahead.  Screw taking it slowly and easing into things.  I don't know if I want to take my chances with another surgery.  The doctor told me I have a 90% chance of a full recovery.  If the surgery works, and he thinks it will, I will be able to run again with no limitations.  Have I come this far to quit trying?  Or am I so desperate for an answer that I've become childishly gullible and will accept any cure?  Either way, I miss my sport.


~Roadburner