overcoming setbacks

Here it is, Saturday afternoon, a little more than 24 hours after having received news that many would consider disheartening. News that, if it would become true, would temporarily alter my life to a degree that I wouldn't be able to do some of the things that I'm most passionate about. Many would take this news as justification for self-indulgent dwelling on such a misfortune, but I'm not just anybody.

I saw an orthopedic specialist yesterday morning about this nagging pain in my left knee. His diagnosis is not what I was hoping to hear: a possible meniscus tear on the outside of my left knee where the IT band attaches to the knee. The only resolution to such an injury is surgery. Surgery that would result in a brace, crutches and the obvious suspension of any athletic activity for the rest of the season. Doc made an avid point that I must discontinue running until we could be absolutely certain that no additional damage would be done...not an easy thing to tell an athlete in training. And what was my response? No running? Alright, I can accept that on an interim basis.

This morning I rode 45 miles in two and a half hours. This is my longest ride to date this season...by 15 miles. It's going to take a lot more than a bit of daunting news to deter me. If anything, it's just encouragement to push even harder. The ride this morning was amazing. The temperature was perfect, the slightest breeze cooled me, and my legs felt awesome. A ride like this is the sweetest escape. Everything else in life just melts away when you hop on the bike and get into a groove. The only thing present is the rush of air from my rhythmic breathing, the roar of wind over my helmet, the slight sound made from bike tires gliding over pavement, and the occasional bead of sweat that slips down the bridge of my nose. I look down and see the wind rip the bead of sweat from the tip of my nose and send it crashing into my bicep. All I see past the glistening sweat on my forearms in the foreground are two legs steadily pumping and a tire that is spinning feverishly over the grey pavement. I look up again and all I see is a seemingly never-ending road and the faint silhouette of casual walkers and runners at the park. Occasionally, the outline of another cyclist will appear on the horizon. My natural reaction is to tuck a little tighter to the bike, push the pedals a little harder, and attack until I overcome the unknowing athlete. Some are more difficult to chase down than others, but the pursuit will continue until my pride has been satisfied. I'll steal a peak over my shoulder on occasion and will see other cyclists peel off the route, seemingly nearing completion of his or her workout. I will continue on. The most difficult question I face on the bike is, "Do I ride another lap, another 4.5 miles?" The answer is always the same...yes; push until you can't go any further. I have a long ways to go until I can finish an Ironman, and that training isn't going to complete itself.

Tell me I can't finish 140.6 miles. Tell me my body can't handle it. Tell me I'm not good enough. And then just sit back and see what happens. I will find a way.