Gear, Gear, Gear

Anyone who does triathlon will understand the unnerving appeal of better, newer gear. I have so much gear already, why in the world would I need any more? Well, the wily capitalists at work (Cobb, you're amongst them!) are constantly coming up with catchy and useful gee-gaws, lighter, faster, more hydro/aero-dynamic.... It's endless. Even though my credit cards are constantly pushing max, I can always rationalize buying something. I've already pre-ordered one of Cobb's new helmets from Rudy Project (had to sell of six jerseys to try and finance that), but now I've also acquired a SportCount lap counter/timer for long track and swim workouts, and also ordered a transition mat and a hydration belt from Triathlete Sports. (Not two hours after placing they latter order, I received an online coupon for 15% off Black Friday orders! Arghhh!) And who knows what else is out there? I can easily lose count. And all this for someone who only does a few sprint races a year! Is there a version of AA for gear-addicted triathletes?

I. Give. Up.

I really do. I give up the hope that I will ever "fix" my back. I have run the complete gamut of available assistance, from orthopedic sports medicine to massage therapy to chiropractic. Nothing--nothing--helps. The latest effort involved the chiropractor plastering kinesio tape across my upper back. I rode with it today. And like clockwork, 70 minutes into the ride, I started feeling pain--like being stabbed in the back with a burning brand. Sometimes it would ease--particularly when I turned out of the wind--but otherwise was approaching intolerable. Perhaps it was worsened by the damage to my morale, knowing now I could not race Conroe next weekend. (I can hardly swim 1.2 miles and then bike 55 miles in a race when I can barely ride 25 in training.)

So I am not a happy camper. I have to resign myself to only being able to ride long distances recreationally, stopping every hour or whenever necessary to give my back a break. Not, not happy......

Same Old Story

I have not ridden my bike once--not once!--this entire week. The few days we get decent weather, such as yesterday afternoon, I have meetings and work and cannot ride. I did get in a good run on Tuesday and a swim today. (I really enjoy running now that the temps dip down into the fifties.) After my swim (and another meeting!) I went to see my massage therapist, Meredith Wauqua, and she really put the hurt on my arms and upper back. Later this evening, I felt rather pummeled and sore, but she knows her business so I can't but expect it will all be for the good. Tomorrow it's back to the chiropractor to get some kinesio tape for my back. The plan was for me to then ride my bike in the afternoon, but as we are expecting floods, again, I doubt I can ride before Saturday. (I just hope it doesn't force a shift in the Friday soccer game to a turf field! I want Pat Hartley.)

...but if it's workouts you want?

...then there isn't a great deal to report! The rain has played disaster with bike training. I'm lucky if I can ride two hours a week--and those two hours are hardly quality. Oddly, the more my back receives treatment, the worse it seems to get ?? Perhaps it's just my expectations are raised and disappointed, making it seem worse. I do get in one 1500 yard swim per week and a couple of runs. Insufficient training, to put it mildly, for an aquabike in two weeks. Not to mention that the cost of traveling even as far as Conroe appears prohibitive. Truly, since October 3rd, when my mother-in-law suffered her stroke, I've had a lot of other things on my mind. Even now that she's passed, my focus has not returned. Perhaps it's time to just accept "off season".

I Love History

No, this is not a blog about cycling or triathlon. I've about decided I can't just segment my life into one blog about this and another about that. It's all of a piece. So tonight's subject--my affirmation--is: I love history.

PBS showed an episode of "The American Experience" on the Great Crash of 1929, followed by a documentary on Herbert Hoover. (This Thursday is the 80th anniversary of the Crash.) Watching it all I realized just how much I love and enjoy history. I love just knowing. I always have. I like reading something and realizing, "Aha! So that's why that happened!" or "So that's what that means!" It's like unraveling a semi-secret language--the language of human experience.

I think that's an element that gets lost in teaching. I feel so constrained by the lack of time--the rush to cover as much as possible (quantity) versus covering a few things deeply (quality). We just don't have time in the survey to delve deeply enough to personalize events. Additionally, students are of an age where they haven't gained enough life experience that would enable them to relate to the variety of persons and situations.

In any event, it's nice to have time now and again to get back in touch with the shear enjoyment of the subject. It's too bad my students, by and large, don't share the enjoyment. I just hope some day they will have the opportunity to revisit some of the events and recall them in a different light.

Exit Sunscreen, Enter Embrocation

Seems like riding in ninety-degree heat was just yesterday. Seems like riding in the early morning, sun coming up over the treetops, was heaven. Now, it's drag my bum home to catch a few hours of daylight in the moderate temps of the afternoon. No Epic Ride with epic scenery; rather, the monotonous shoulder of Highway 80.

Today the weathermen predicted only a slight chance of rain, so in spite of doing a swim workout earlier I knew I had to get in a bike ride, no matter how short. It was hard getting out of the house because, paradoxically, there were so many bicycle-related "goodies" that came in the mail and via UPS to tempt me to stay in: two bicycle magazines and a Tour de France DVD; also more chamois creme, and--how timely--my first tube of embrocation.

I've read about these creams and salves and other skin elixirs used by the pros. They are supposed to warm up the muscles, etc., on brisk days on the bike. There are so many days when leg warmers are just too much, but bare-legged is not enough. So, even though I had no idea if they really worked or not I was willing to give it a go.

Unscrewed the cap, tore off the foil sealant, and sniffed. Hmmm. Kinda smelled like my favorite skin cream but with a kick of bitterness I couldn't place. Well, at least it wasn't patchouli oil. I squeezed some out and applied it to my legs and even to my arms for good measure. I did not feel a rush of warmth like Icy Hot or some such, but I guessed I felt...something. Anyway, when I got on the bike, going down Lee's Hill, nothing would have kept the chill away, but that was just for a minute. Out on the road I felt fine--bored, but fine. I really motored, cruising at 22 mph, which clearly indicated the presence of a tail wind. I knew it would end at Crow but I enjoyed it while I could. Heading back into the wind, even as I groaned inside, I told myself "This is making me stronger. This is making me stronger." The carrot was making it to the next turnaround so I could enjoy a sweet six back to Crow. The last turn into the wind was tougher, but I made it. I passed the hour point here and was pleased to see that, even with my warm-up, my average speed was near 17 mph--abysmally slow by King William's standards, but not bad by mine. ;-)

Made it back home by 5 p.m. Time to dive into the bike mags. Much as I'll try to make them last, I'll probably have them read cover-to-cover in 10 days. (By the end of the month I'll be reading the classified ads.)

Medical Mysteries Continue

All my training, on the bike anyway, seems one long investigation into the medical mystery surrounding the muscles spasms in my upper left back. I started with an orthopedist/sports medicine doctor. She diagnosed...muscles spasms. Er, yeah. Kind of knew that. Origins? Who knows. Solutions? Lidocaine shots after the fact, that only last an hour. Next stop: massage therapist. Some progress there. She was able to tell me that I had limited mobility in my left scapula, probably from scar tissue. Combined with what the doc said, things were pointing to some lingering damage from a bike wreck (MTB) I had in 2002. But while the massage helped some, it was/is not enough by itself. So finally I went to a chiropractor. And there we stand. I keep riding and providing him with feedback. The pain begins as pins-and-needles in the supraspinus muscle, and somehow the fatigue here activates the rhomboids for postural needs--a purpose for which they are not designed--and this leads to some kind of nerve impingement and finally the stabbing pain. (Needless to say, once things go off kilter in one area, it pulls everything else down the spine and into the opposite leg out of whack--hence all the problems with my lower right leg.)

So I am a "work in progress." I keep cycling, pushing through the pain, though I am still short of my 54 mile goal. (I could make that, but I worry that I would literally not be able to use my left arm at all--a dangerous situation when you need to brake.) The chiro will keep refining his adjustments, and I will keep applying the Biofreeze. (Eau de Parfum du Biofreeze. Chanel No. 5 it ain't.) Perhaps we can get to the point where some combo of kinesio tape might stabilize something up there.

Anyway, I am certainly learning a lot--and not just about muscles. My chiro also set me onto some liquid vitamins which are great (Intramax), as well as a really nice way to get my Omega 3s (Coromega). I should be a shining picture of health and energy. But the past few days I have been best by fatigue. I think I need a week on the beach somewhere sunny. I need the sun! I am like a tropical plant photosynthesizing directly from the sun's rays. Passing through the autumnal equinox is really shutting down the rays. Even when I get out, the sun is on the downside, wan, anemic. (Yeah, I know. This isn't Michigan or Seattle and I should count my blessings.) I would just like to find a beach somewhere and bake in the sun and surf for a couple of days.

Dream on!