Minor Setback

It was not a great weekend for this triathlete. The training plan called for a 40-mile bike ride on Saturday. Nothing too unusual about that. Except that the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler (for which I registered in December) was the following day. Hmmmm.

Usually, this runner would take it very easy the day before a race. Naturally, I wanted to set a PR. Although I’ve only done one other ten-mile race (Army Ten Miler 10/08) I spent a lot of time thinking about how I would approach this race and was excited to get it done.

Saturday morning I drove out to the Plains for the group ride. It was WINNNNdy! I must digress to tell you about how my beloved bike, Ms. Piggy (a 2009 Trek Madone 5.1 – with hot pink handlebar tape) narrowly escaped the jaws of death, and I barely avoided a fatal heart attack. As I drove out Route 66, I commented to my new teammate that my bike didn’t look quite right on my (spare tire-mounted) bike rack. I studied my rear view for a while I dismissed the thought as paranoia.

So now we’re flying down 66 to get to the ride on time. And holy &%*&^& - I glance behind me and see Piggy is dangling. I mean, hanging by - I don’t know - a thread!?! I can’t even remember what exactly I saw, but my heart stopped. We pulled over to the (very scary) shoulder, and jumped out without getting run over. BOTH of the rack straps had become detached and the poor girl was THIS close to death. Seriously. She had gradually twisted herself off the rack and was barely hanging on. It is a freakin miracle that I didn’t lose my precious bike that morning. I think that my new teammate didn’t engage the strap correctly, and that the other side detached because it couldn’t handle the weight of the bike and loosened the strap. Deep breath. Not a good start to the day. The good news is that I my bike didn’t meet her demise and I will triple check the straps from now on.

Somewhere in the first part of the ride, my leg started to hurt. The area behind my knee just started really bothering me. As I rode on, it kept getting worse and worse. And worse. And by the time I finished my 33 miles (it was supposed to be 40) I was so totally grateful to be finished. It hurt to walk.

I asked a few teammates and my coach, but no one had anything constructive to offer other than I should go to the doctor. Gee, thanks. I started becoming really concerned about whether I would be able to race the next day. I drove the hour home, quickly showered and changed, and turned it around to head to packet pickup and the race expo. By the time I got out of my car, my leg hurt to the point of causing me to limp. Ouch. Not a happy camper.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. When I woke up, the few steps to the bathroom were painful. Jogging in place also really hurt. I thought about Kerri Strug, and how she worked through a broken ankle to capture the gold. But I’m not an Olympic athlete. I gave it a lot of thought, and to make a long story short, there was no Cherry Blossom 10-miler for me this year. I always say that the goal is the race in 2050. I want to be healthy and strong when I am in my 70’s. That means making good decisions now. There’s always next year.