Thursday, June 11, 2009
I am paying for neglect. Neglect of my body. Last season I spent a lot of time working on core strength, doing push ups, pull ups, all that good stuff. After my little bicep tendon severing incident I lost impetus, push ups were out, so my pull up and sit up babies went out with the push up bathwater. Now I am weak and flabby and my core resembles the core of a twinkie. I wouldn't be whining about this but the lack of core stability has lead to some acute back pain. Could be other factors but I'd rather blame my doughy center. I made race weight and lost it. My flat may have slowed me down in NYC but the fat helped too.
As we were driving home from NYC Sunday, we pulled off at a rest stop so I could pee, which was highly abnormal. When I got out of the car my back seized, just lit right up like a Xmas tree doused in kerosene. I spent a couple days pounding the Ibuprofen, started feeling better, but still as if my lower vertebrae were pulverized and lying in a jagged heap just above my pelvis. Then I rode the Superfly into work today, planning to lead the group ride. Everything seemed alright until I went pull a wheel onto a bike, something sprung. Like I'd wound up a jack in the box then swallowed it, and it reached the end of its song before it reached the end of my digestive track, and POP GOES THE WEASEL its demonically smiling head burst through my lower back.
I hobbled around for a little while making myself useless then called in medivac. It was straight home to ingest some Omega 3s in the form of Sardines, slam more Ibuprofen, and get in an ice bath. The ice bath is something I have been neglecting to do as well. No more. Ice baths after every race or even hard training ride.
The Plan is still to hit The Stoopid 50 Sunday down in State College, PA. How can I pass up a race that has my middle name in the title? The spelling is different. If I have to get a massive Cortizone shot in my lower back, snort a bunch of Percocet, and stash eight balls in my drop bags, so be it. I know Chris Scott won't be drug testing (why do you think Floyd came out to The SMT100?).
Rolling down with Greg "The Leg" Montello, Harry Precourt, and Rob Stine from Rhode Island. Meeting up at a camp site with Tomi, Elk, Buck Keich, and others. Should be pretty entertaining, can't wait.
Posted by Big Bikes at 6:00 AM