In Which We Race From the Back
It’s a catch-up post. And here’s all the catching up that’s fit to post:
Doctors sometimes are wrong. MRI’s are rarely wrong.
The doctors said something important torn, but the truth was I only had a micro-fracture.
I waited. I rode. I healed.
A man named Vince at Northlake Physical Therapy fixed me with electricity, ice, exercises and sheer determination of his incredibly positive nature. He’s gold, man. I owe him.
I’m good now though I lost a step.
I’m good now though running through sand still doesn’t feel very good.
I’m good now though I dropped my chain today and had to claw my way back through the field.
This is cyclocross – it comes with all these variables. Good and bad things happen. You keep pedaling.
Good and bad people happen. You keep pedaling.
In other news, life also happens. A long-lost cousin dies of cancer and though you probably have no real reason to, you feel the disturbance in the force. You shudder a little bit because he was in his early 40s and he left behind a wife and kids. You feel it.
I’m working too much now. I wake up in the morning and ride from 6-8, work from 9-6, write from 7-10. Sleep like dead. Repeat.
I’m taking a machete to things now – hacking back the excess to get a clear view forward. Make a little breathing room. Find a little quiet.
Mostly I just want to race my bike.
I found a little anger to work with and I’m nursing it.
I’d cut somebody to get a few days of solid rain.
When it comes I’ll be ready. Let’s slide and attack and charge and flail a little bit.
Life’s messy but mud is pure.