On March 18th, riding high from recent improvement, I got back on the mountain bike and did some very light trail riding. I'd spun around the neighborhood and ridden part of one super gentle trail the week after getting busted up, and both had been pretty uncomfortable. This ride, however, felt ok. Every little bump was a uncomfortable, and breathing deeply especially hurt, but it wasn't undoable.
On the 19th, I felt like giving Dirty Sheets a try, and I ended up running into Patrick Jones at Cochran Mill. I chased him for maybe half of the route, before he went off to do an extra loop that I definitely didn't have the stamina for. It wasn't any worse than the day before, even with the extra distance. Wowards the end I felt a pop in my back, and the busted rib back there hurt for the rest of the evening, only to feel a lot better than it yet had, the next day.
Adhesion tearing loose, maybe? Who knows?
On the 20th, I went for a "run" at Heritage. It was my first "run" in over 3 weeks, but I'd been jogging back and forth on the bocce court at Siracusa's a bit, and it didn't feel like I was shaking my torso apart, so I figured... maybe. At first, it seemed to turn out great. No PRs, but 10:36 miles were kind-of average for me there. I was expecting way worse. That evening though, my right ankle felt fragile and the next day it hurt terribly, like I'd sprained it.
On the 22nd, I tried spinning it out on local roads and the Silver Comet, but it didn't help. I just had to take a few days off.
On the 26th, I did an easy spin on the Dirty Sheets again. No Patrick this time.
That turned out to be a great day!
I discovered a toilet in the woods.
My second favorite thing to discover in the woods, the first being a boat.
The roads were serene. The sky was overcast, and the temps were perfect.
I also noticed a chimney up in the woods, that I'd never seen before.
Double-sided, no less.
And a dangerous old well nearby too.
I ended at Cochran Mill Falls, and it was really raging from recent storms.
My ankle didn't feel any worse after all of that, but it wasn't better yet. It was actually pretty much fine on the bike, but walking around enough would eventually piss it off, and jogging was out of the question entirely.
On the 28th, I rode Thomson Park, the Silver Comet side trails, and North Cooper Lake Park with no less discomfort than I felt just existing. I ran into Steve Spence at North Cooper Lake. He was actually recovering from a knee injury that he'd recently sustained skiing. Goodness.
On the 29th I hit the Vomet trails along the train tracks. Also, ok.
During all of this, I'd been doing half or 3/4ths of my morning routine. On the 30th I went for the full thing and didn't suffer. That afternoon, I hit Nickajack Park and the trails on the south side of Nickajack Creek.
On the 31st, I rode about 22 miles on the Comet with Beatriz.
That was actually really fun. I hadn't been on the road bike in forever, and other than sitting on the rivet, chasing Patrick, I can't remember the last time I'd ridden with anyone else. It's also really trying hard to be spring now, everything was just starting to leaf out, and there were azaleas blooming everywhere.
On April 1st, I helped my youngest move all of their remaining stuff out of Kathryn's house. Up and down the stairs all morning with busted ribs and a questionable ankle wasn't my idea of a good time, but Kathryn somehow had 800mg Ibuprofin tablets, and they really helped. In fact, the next day, my ankle felt pretty normal. I remember that from the skateboarding days. I'd sit around for weeks waiting for an ankle to heal, and it felt like it never would totally get better, but at a point, if you'd just push through it, then it would be fine from then on. It's like it was inflamed while healing, healed slightly out of place, and needed to get adjusted back into place. Or something. IDK. Used to happen all the time, and just happened again recently.
I had a bocce doubleheader that evening, and it was great to have a working ankle for it. We lost both games though, so maybe not so great after all.
Through all of this, my ribs didn't feel materially better. I'm sure they were healing, because I could do a little more every day without any additional discomfort, but they hurt the same amount, sleeping was still murder, and I still had that constant intercostal cramping. Previous times, they'd just gotten steadily better. This time has been different.
No comments:
Post a Comment