The sun was setting. I put music in my ears and continued to pedal into the darkness. I had been pedaling since 5am, a time of day during which my water hose had froze within minutes. In March 2014 I had recently started bikepacking with the goal of racing the Tour Divide (TD) that summer. I had been training hard and was in the best shape of my life; climbing hills with some of the fastest ladies and leaner than I had ever been. Work and train. Train and work. That was my life and I was happy and strong. The inaugural Tour De Los Padres was my first bikepacking race ever and I was treating it as an training race for the TD. On day one of my individual time trial of the TDLP, despite having to climb two big mountains, I made huge miles thanks to the final big push in the dark on the bumpy, dusty Soda Lake Road in Carrizo Plains National Monument. I made it to my target destination of Selby Camp and quickly set up to sleep on the picnic table and was up and rolling again at 5am the next day. Everything was going to plan!
In the morning I was immediately beset by rugged and steep fire roads that had me off the bike pushing a lot, and the following singletrack turned out to be cow tracks that required constant diligence monitoring the GPS track to not accidently veer off-route.
Around mid-morning I was shoving my bike up an embankment out of a wash on a steep cow path and my knee buckle briefly; however, after that brief pain it felt fine and stable so I carried on. By early afternoon I was climbing the seemingly endless, but beautiful, Sierra Madre road and making my way to the location where I had stashed a resupply (allowed in the race rules that year). Once I reached my hidden container of goodies, I gobbled up the chips and Coke, stuffed everything else onto my bloated bike and was ready for a couple more hours of climbing. I was optimistic that I would make it to Painted Rock, the next water source, early enough to put in additional night miles from there. Push down on the pedals and Ouch! From the very first pedal stroke my right knee had a sharp pain on the outside of it. Hmm… take some Aleve, mess with saddle height, stretch — nothing seemed to alleviate the rather severe pain. I slowly limped up the road, watching the day slip away due to my slow pace and desperately wanting to make it to camp and water where I could try and “sleep it off”. At 10pm I finally arrived at Painted Rock and passed out in my tent. At one point in the night, not really awake, I tried to use my leg to roll myself over and yelled out in pain from my angry knee. This was not auspicious for feeling better in the morning. The problem was that I was about to enter the part of the route where I was deepest in the wilderness and it included a huge climb that was sure to aggravate my knee even more. I always carry a Spot tracker that has an emergency rescue SOS button, but my goal is always to be self-sufficient and to not put myself in a situation where I will need to use it. The possible solution was that a family was camped nearby, and I had passed their vehicle parked at a gate only 7 miles back – a possible way out. The bigger problem was that Quit is not part of my vocabulary, at least not in my younger days :). First I needed water and to think. The mother from the backpacking family walked with me to where she had found a water seep and I slowly limped along, trying to accept that my knee was not going to magically start feeling better. I also had to keep in mind that the real goal was the Tour Divide across the entire North to South length of the country in June and the longer I rode on an injured knee the longer the healing was likely to take.
The family very kindly offered me a ride out to the nearest large town. Ultimately, I slow pedaled back to their vehicle while they hiked out and then rode into town with them. It was such a heart breaking decision for me to abandon the race, and as we made conversation on the drive out I had to choke back tears numerous times. I felt so vulnerable and disappointed. On the positive side they were such lovely people and the mother kept holding me up as an example to her young teenage daughter about the things a woman can do alone in the world if she sets her mind to it. As always, bikepacking and making yourself vulnerable in the world allows you to see the best in others and fosters connection.
Today is four weeks since my foot surgery and it is coming along quite nicely. I started riding my bike again this week! There is still the feeling of a swollen lump in my foot when I am barefoot, but walking with good shoes does not produce pain. Since I was told 6-8 weeks recovery by the surgeon (and 8-10 by another doctor), I’m very happy with this progress and hope that in two more weeks it will feel like it never happened!
These two stories may be more related than they seem. After I pulled out of the TDLP it took months of seeing specialists before my PT finally declared that my knee had always been fine and that I was having referred pain from my long-standing back problems: I first received cortisone injections in my back when I was 21 years old. Even with a proper diagnosis it still took almost a year before I was able to tolerate long distance rides again without triggering pain in my knee. The Tour Divide never happened. If you are a regular reader, you may recall that during our December ride in Arizona my knee was giving me pain that was very reminiscent of the pain in 2014 during the TDLP. And, this week I was so excited to be starting short rides again and Boom! now my low back is having a flair up that results in a constant pain/pinch in my hip. While I was completely off my foot during initial surgical recovery I had increased upper body and core exercises – this is not the first time that it appears that doing more core exercises to strengthen and protect my back has actually resulted in aggravating my back and making it worse in the short-term. Sigh. I’ve been down this road so many times that I am not overly stressed about it; I trust that I’ll bounce back from the irritated back and the foot in a week or two, but it is still frustrating. This has been the story of my athletic life — just as I seem to be making real progress, bam I get shut down with a musculoskeletal injury! I am always amazed by the top athletes who also experience injuries, but always seem to bounce back from them so much more quickly than I do.
Meanwhile, we are having summer weather here. The garden is producing lettuce and peas. And we have kale, chard, arugula, beets, and wild flowers sprouting, as well. Inside we have green bean and cucumber starters; if we are going to have global warming we might as well try and make the best of it and see if we can harvest some early season crops. If not, we just plant some new seeds; I might as well be an optimist :). My IBS is also still an ongoing issue (I’m about to see a new specialist) so my diet is quite restricted right now, but that means I’ve been making delicious onion and garlic-free salsas and homemade granola.
If you are healthy and able, get outside and enjoy some fresh air!
I hesitate to tell you what you already know, but in case you are in denial Heather, you are getting older … bouncing back takes longer and longer as you age. That being said, I am glad you are on the mend. You are a badass womyn, just a little bit slower one in your healing. LOL.