Injuries are part of the game in athletics and endurance sports are no exception. Most of the time, they amount to a short nuisance and a little bit of missed training time. Sometimes, the level of suckitude goes much higher. This, unfortunately, is one of those times.
Today was Ironman Arizona, which was supposed to be my second ironman race of the year. Instead, my Arizona experience consisted of spending quality time with the computer, tracking friends and watching them finish. Not exactly what I originally had in mind. Having said that, they did fantastic and it was a pleasure to cheer them on, albeit from afar.
As discussed in my last post, this particular ironman journey started last year when I went there to volunteer so I could sign up for this year's race. Actual training for this race started in late July when I got back onto the training horse after taking some time off from Ironman Coeur d'Alene. I was coming off a big PR in that race and a couple of other fast shorter races and was feeling good. I looked forward to getting back to some longer distance training to prepare to give my best effort on the Arizona course.
The "**** happens" part
Six weeks ago, I was in Yakima running in a community "fun" run following a series of high school races my daughters' high school team was racing. I had been looking forward to this race for quite some time because it was on a course I used to run in high school and I thought it would be fun to race it again almost 30 years later. My only concern was getting hurt. In fact, as I lined up at the start, I mentioned to one of my daughter's teammates that I didn't know how hard I was going to run and would just play it by ear. "I just don't want to get hurt," I said. I should have stepped off the course right then and there. Schmuck.
After easing into the race for a while, everything was great. It was one of those glorious races when everything was easy. I was running fast, but not anywhere near my limit. I was passing people at will. Most importantly, I was having a great time running that course after such a long time. I was literally smiling my way around the course. This race was going to be a good gauge of where my fitness was at leading into my last heavy training block before Arizona and I was excited about how it was going. I was on schedule to run the fastest three-miles I had run in years.
At the same time, I was being careful about where I stepped because I'm hyper-sensitive about running on uneven ground since I blew out my right ankle three years ago when I stepped in a hole while running. I was constantly scanning the ground for the best place to step. We came to a narrow part of the course with a chain link fence on our right and ground that sloped to the left off of the path. I caught the runner in front of me, but decided to wait to pass until the ground flattened out. Again, I was just being careful and didn't want to do anything stupid. I was actually feeling pretty proud of myself that I was playing it smart and not doing something stupid by trying to pass on uneven ground. I waited patiently until the path widened and the slope of the ground evened out. I took one step to the left to go around the runner, felt my left leg give out and I face-planted on the grass. Insert the expletive of your choice here. I ran through the gamut.
The "It sucks" part
It's amazing how quickly the mind can work sometimes. I had no idea what I had stepped on or what exactly happened, but I knew in an instant it was all over. My ankle was a mess. Arizona was out and I was facing months of rehab and reconditioning to get back to the fitness level I was at just seconds ago, if I could get there at all. I was stunned and I was pissed. Oddly, I was also rather matter-of-fact. I had fallen at the feet of one of the local high school runners who was watching the race. She alarmingly asked if I was ok. "No. No I'm not," I said calmly and quietly. It didn't hurt right away and I hadn't heard a pop or anything like that, but I knew it was bad.
Long story short, my daughters and the team helped get me and my stuff back to the van for the 3-hour drive home. I've been through this nasty ankle sprain drill before and I knew there's not much a doctor can do right away other than wrap it and brace it so I just wanted to go home and deal with the doctors there in the next day or two. That was not the funnest drive I've ever had since the ankle started to blow up like a balloon, but it went ok. We got home about 10 pm and by midnight it was hurting like crazy so I gave in and headed to the ER for x-rays and some pain meds. I came back four hours later with the meds, a boot, some crutches, and a preliminary diagnosis of possible avulsion fractures and "at least" a grade 2 sprain (partially torn ligaments). I wasn't surprised.
In the six weeks since, there have been visits to the orthopedist, crutches for what seemed like forever, the boot (still), and visits to the physical therapist. In the first days, I had to call my mom to tell her the family trip to Arizona was off. That was no fun because we had all been looking forward to that for a year. We thought about going anyway, but we also knew there would medical bills coming so thought it best to save for that. One silver lining in this is we hadn't yet bought the plane tickets for the trip so I was really only out the entrance fee to the race. Ok, and the plane ticket to get there last year to sign up, but let's think positively, shall we?
One of the suckiest parts was having all of this pent up training and nowhere to release it. When we train for an endurance event, we taper off in the last three weeks to let our bodies recover. Typically, by the time race day comes around, tapered athletes are raring to go with a ton of pent up energy. I was right there going from training at a high level to absolutely no training at all. I was not a happy camper. I finally got into the pool to do some swimming with a pull buoy so I just dragged by legs since I couldn't kick. To my surprise, it didn't help at all. I wanted to run. Just run.
The "then we have to move on" part
So now we've covered the **** happens and it sucks parts, so it's time to move on, right? Well, it's not that simple. We endurance folks are strange birds. We deal with adversity in the form of minor injuries, weather, equipment problems, etc., all the time and keep moving forward. But we don't quite know how to handle it when it's something bad enough that we can't just run through it. As I've told several people, I'm very well aware this is but a temporary small blip in a (hopefully) long life. I didn't suffer some horrible fate like so many other people have to deal with. I get that. But it does't mean I can't be angry and sad about it and that those feelings aren't valid. That's because I know none of us is guaranteed tomorrow and we should do the things we want when we have a chance. That's what I was doing. I was going after it. Since these races are so hard to get into, I also know it will be a long time before I have a shot at another one. I'm also getting older and there's no guarantee I'll ever get back to that same physical condition I was in before that one bad step. I told myself if I was going to move on from this bump in the road, I needed to be real about what I was feeling. What's real is I was truly pissed off and bummed and it got to me. Whether or not that's valid in the eyes of others, I don't now and don't care. It is what it is.
I'll admit I was down a few times in the last few weeks, but it's been ok most of the time. I haven't really been my normal self, but I haven't been a raging jerk either (I hope). As the Arizona race got closer, though, and I read about people getting excited to get to the race, I got pretty down. It finally hit me last weekend when I realized that during training I had been keeping myself in check mentally to not get overconfident since you never know what could happen on race day. In my gut though, I knew I was in the best shape in years and had a real shot at taking a ton of time off of my PR. I can certainly work to get back there, but I never know if I'll really be able to get back to that point again and it's frustrating as hell.
With that, I came into today with some trepidation about what I would feel. It actually turned out to be a pretty good day. I was able to track my friends and cheer them on and that helped in some strange way. At least there was a connection to the race. I think it was a problem just having that race still in the future and knowing I couldn't be there. Now that the last finishers crossed the line about an hour ago, I feel like I can turn the page.
So today, I started down a new path. My bike has been sitting in the garage untouched since the injury because I can't ride it anyway. It still has the sweat stains from my last ride a couple of days prior to the running race. I kept telling myself I should go clean it up and get it ready for when I get cleared to start pedaling on the trainer again, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Today, I went to the bike store to get some needed parts and start getting it ready. I don't know when I'll get cleared to ride, but I want to be ready when it happens. I also look forward to getting some better idea of when I'll be able to run again so I can start planning races. I know it will be a while, but it always helps to have something to train for. It's time to move forward and look ahead. Onward.
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