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.

aspirations

I recently had a birthday...my 27th birthday to be exact. Time to grow up, right? I'm not convinced of that yet so we'll save that for another day. What's been on my mind more so is that I turn 30 in three years. I don't have any apprehensions with turning the dreaded 3-0, like many twentysomethings do. What reverberates in my mind is the associated physical peak that comes with this age. Most that know me well, know that I love competing. Upon college graduation and hanging up my track spikes, I've turned to triathlons to fill that void. I competed for a few years and did well, but had to take the last few years off due to nagging knee injuries. I recently took training up again and have started the ascent of the slow, painful climb to physical strength and endurance. No pun intended, especially given that I just rode the daunting hills out at Shawnee Mission park. My comeback tour actually begins there only a little more than a month away. I have also delved into the training necessary to be able to compete in an Ironman triathlon. For those that might not know, an Ironman consists of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a marathon, or 26.2 mile run. It takes an incredible amount of training to accomplish such a feat and I plan to do so by the time I'm 30.

I was in Wichita a few weekends ago to help my cousin celebrate his marriage. The next day I spent some time at another cousin's home. This cousin's wife, a mother of 4 children, recently ran her first marathon. It was the coveted Nike women's marathon in San Francisco. She was so proud of this feat that she created a picture book to tell her story. In this book, she wrote about how she had never run a mile in her life. For her own reasons of motivation, she trained and successfully ran an entire marathon. If she can accomplish this, I can finish an Ironman...if only my knees hold up.

There are countless miles and hours of training between then and now, but I know it'll be worth it. I can't imagine the feeling of crossing the finish line. It might take me 14+ hours, but I'm going to cross that finish line. And that feeling, when my entire body aches and burns, when exhaustion has completely overwhelmed me, is going to trump all the other feelings of accomplishment that I hold dear to me. That's the image that I've engraved into my mind for when I want to quit and am asking myself, "Why in the hell am I doing this?" More to come, but summer of 2009 will be the projected finale of this comeback tour.