Patient vs. patience. I am much better at being the former, and don't possess much of the latter. Which is unfortunate in almost all situations, as the two go hand-in-hand. Injury requires A LOT of patience, usually much more than I have (ironically I haven't figured this out yet, despite all the time I have spent broken). Currently I am 7 weeks into a 16 week recovery-NOT EVEN HALF WAY-and I am about to rip all my hair out. In fact, if my bike wasn't stuck in a shipping yard in California right now, the temptation to ride would be so great I would probably have to have it locked away at Bike Rev.
Patience is something I have never really had, though I'm sure it would be of great benefit on several occasions. If you didn't catch the Queen reference in the title, it's the first line from the song "I want it all" which paints a picture of an angsty teen chasing their future with relentless pursuit. That might as well be me. I want it all, and I want it now. BUT, I'm not usually in pursuit of instant gratification, and it's not that I don't see the importance of patience-I do (mostly). What it all boils down to for me is time. There isn't a whole awful lot of it and being patient means taking time. I don't like waiting, for anything really. It's just the way I am. I get really excited and over-zealous about almost everything, and don't like "wasting" time. If I can go get it, I will.
Back to bikes though. Frankly, I'm impressed with how patient I've been since I hurt myself. It may be due to the fact that I don't currently have a mountain bike to ride (my road bike is starting to look like a white unicorn with a glittery mane though) but my patience has grown thinner in the last week. Why? Because the first race of the EWS was this weekend in Rotorua and the weather in Flagstaff has been beyond glorious. Not only were loads of my friends down in New Zealand racing, but it just seems that everyone except me is riding. This is obviously not the case-I have friends who are also recovering from injury so I'll stop the woe-is-me. I'm ecstatic for everyone that got to go down to NZ and race, for my friends out traveling the world with their bikes, for all my friends near and far who get to go out and ride. I'm just jealous. I just feel like I'm missing out, loosing pace, wasting time.
That is a pretty pessimistic statement for me. So I suppose what I should really do is reexamine what "wasting" time really is, and then ask myself if I actually ever "waste" my time. Fortunately, the answer is no. I'm never actually wasting my time. I keep myself very busy and very entertained, except when I don't want to be busy or entertained. Since I've hurt myself I actually haven't gotten fat or turned into a couch potato. Actually, I've been doing most of things I've always done, except ride a bike. Gym. Trainer. Run. Work. Chill. Plus, I'm a full time student, and surely I could occupy myself with homework and studying, but I save that as a last resort.
I guess I should also find a way to make friends with patience. How ever do I do that you ask? I'm just going to start thinking of progression instead of patience. They are very interconnected, and I like the feel of progress more than patience. Progress makes me think I'm going somewhere, even if it is slowly. Patience makes me feel like I'm sitting around doing nothing. It's also a lot easier to apply progression to my recovery, and then to biking. It is taking time to get better, but I'm making progress. It will take time to get back to full-tilt on a bike, but there will be progress every day. Nine more weeks, I think I'll make it.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Monday, March 16, 2015
Grace: a working definition
Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with bikes
Grace: a controlled, polite, and pleasant way of behaving.
Mondays are not anyone's favorite day of the week. However, I like them well enough; though I like Friday, Saturday and Sunday more. My typical Monday is nothing to complain about: I have class from 8am-10am, then a big long break from then until 4pm when my dreaded physics lab commences. I fill that time gap with coffee, food, and friends, and it makes for a pretty dang good day. But this Monday was more glorious than the others. Why? Because I woke up in Hawaii with my whole family and my best friend. The day has been full of sunshine, bathing suits, good books, paddle boarding, and pina coladas. And dislocated hips.
No. Not mine. My 90 year old grandpa's. This is not terribly surprising, I swear he has dislocated each of his hips 9000 times. Just not while we are on vacation in Hawaii. What's even less surprising is the way he handled the whole situation. It went something like this:
Grandpa and Jane go for a walk on the beach
Grandpa sits down in beach chair
Normal conversion
.
.
.
"Hey grandpa, are those sandals hurting your feet?" (Because his foot looks quite odd)
"Well, I popped my hip out. But it's okay, let them finish paddle boarding!"
"What?"
Everyone comes rushing and we call an ambulance, all the while grandpa is sitting there talking like everything is fine, telling us we don't need to call an ambulance and apologizing profusely about making a mess of the day.
This is the way my grandpa operates. He never wants to inconvenience anyone, even when he is in grotesque amounts of pain and his hip is out of place. He just carries on with a smile on his face. He doesn't throw a pity party about how it's going to be difficult to get around for the rest of the trip because he always knows it not the end of the world. That is dealing with complications gracefully.
Every morning I wake up, I come downstairs, and I ask my grandpa how he's doing. He always responds, "Well, I'm here so I suppose I'm pretty good!" and the proceeds to make oatmeal for me and himself. It doesn't matter that he probably got up three times to pee in the middle of the night, or that he has to move cautiously all the time, and carries (key word being carry, because he doesn't ever touch it to the floor) a cane. At 90 years old, none of that really matters to him, he's happy to be here in whatever capacity. That's thinking gracefully.
Everyday my grandpa works out. Why? Because 16 months ago he had a stroke that affected his balance. Unlike most 89 year olds, who at that point, though unhappy about it, would have given in to their old age, he was not okay with being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his time here. He was not okay with not being able to live in his own home, navigate the grocery store, walk up the ten thousand stairs in my house, and play his great-grandkids. So he went to an intensive rehab hospital and now everyday he walks on the treadmill for at least 45 minutes, at various inclines and speeds, rides the stationary bike for at least 15 minutes, writes the alphabet with a swiss ball for his balance, does overhead presses, chest presses, biceps curls, kettle bell squats, and leg extensions. That's living gracefully.
Grace is something I think about a lot. I repeatedly tell myself to be graceful (it's a work in progress). I'm not sure how long it took my grandpa to become as generous, kind, and graceful as he is now, but I know he has been like that for at least the last 20 years. According to my mom, he's been that way for at least the last 49 years. He is a special human being, one I emulate, adore, and look up to for everything. If there is any human who could encompass grace in it's entirety, it is my grandpa. We're in Hawaii and he is in the hospital on a massive amount of ketamine (stuff sucks), getting his leg wrenched back into place, and he will surely wake up smiling. I hope I can be that graceful by the time I'm 90.
Grace: a controlled, polite, and pleasant way of behaving.
No. Not mine. My 90 year old grandpa's. This is not terribly surprising, I swear he has dislocated each of his hips 9000 times. Just not while we are on vacation in Hawaii. What's even less surprising is the way he handled the whole situation. It went something like this:
Grandpa and Jane go for a walk on the beach
Grandpa sits down in beach chair
Normal conversion
.
.
.
"Hey grandpa, are those sandals hurting your feet?" (Because his foot looks quite odd)
"Well, I popped my hip out. But it's okay, let them finish paddle boarding!"
"What?"
Everyone comes rushing and we call an ambulance, all the while grandpa is sitting there talking like everything is fine, telling us we don't need to call an ambulance and apologizing profusely about making a mess of the day.
This is the way my grandpa operates. He never wants to inconvenience anyone, even when he is in grotesque amounts of pain and his hip is out of place. He just carries on with a smile on his face. He doesn't throw a pity party about how it's going to be difficult to get around for the rest of the trip because he always knows it not the end of the world. That is dealing with complications gracefully.
Every morning I wake up, I come downstairs, and I ask my grandpa how he's doing. He always responds, "Well, I'm here so I suppose I'm pretty good!" and the proceeds to make oatmeal for me and himself. It doesn't matter that he probably got up three times to pee in the middle of the night, or that he has to move cautiously all the time, and carries (key word being carry, because he doesn't ever touch it to the floor) a cane. At 90 years old, none of that really matters to him, he's happy to be here in whatever capacity. That's thinking gracefully.
Everyday my grandpa works out. Why? Because 16 months ago he had a stroke that affected his balance. Unlike most 89 year olds, who at that point, though unhappy about it, would have given in to their old age, he was not okay with being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his time here. He was not okay with not being able to live in his own home, navigate the grocery store, walk up the ten thousand stairs in my house, and play his great-grandkids. So he went to an intensive rehab hospital and now everyday he walks on the treadmill for at least 45 minutes, at various inclines and speeds, rides the stationary bike for at least 15 minutes, writes the alphabet with a swiss ball for his balance, does overhead presses, chest presses, biceps curls, kettle bell squats, and leg extensions. That's living gracefully.
Grace is something I think about a lot. I repeatedly tell myself to be graceful (it's a work in progress). I'm not sure how long it took my grandpa to become as generous, kind, and graceful as he is now, but I know he has been like that for at least the last 20 years. According to my mom, he's been that way for at least the last 49 years. He is a special human being, one I emulate, adore, and look up to for everything. If there is any human who could encompass grace in it's entirety, it is my grandpa. We're in Hawaii and he is in the hospital on a massive amount of ketamine (stuff sucks), getting his leg wrenched back into place, and he will surely wake up smiling. I hope I can be that graceful by the time I'm 90.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Livin' la VIDA loca.
I am so so excited to announce that I am fortunate enough to have the opportunity to be representing VIDA MTB Series as an ambassador! This is incredible to me. As an ambassador I'll be involved not only with clinics, but I will also be doing a lot of outside promotional work for VIDA and women's cycling as a whole. I get to work with a great program and amazing women who are passionate about the sport of cycling and determined to create a healthy, beautiful, and strong women's cycling community. I am happy to already be good friends with a lot of these rad chicks. You can check out all of the VIDA Ambassador's profiles here.
Another exciting tidbit: I will also be working with VIDA as a coach later this summer when my dang arm heals! Unfortunately I will not be able to ride for the Sedona or Valmont clinics, but will be headed up to Colorado in June to get my IMBA coaching certs! Afterwards I will hopefully be appearing a few clinics :)
If you don't know about VIDA, check it out. Register for a clinic and come meet the amazing women behind the program! If you are attending the Sedona clinic, I'll see you there!
www.vidamtb.com
Another exciting tidbit: I will also be working with VIDA as a coach later this summer when my dang arm heals! Unfortunately I will not be able to ride for the Sedona or Valmont clinics, but will be headed up to Colorado in June to get my IMBA coaching certs! Afterwards I will hopefully be appearing a few clinics :)
If you don't know about VIDA, check it out. Register for a clinic and come meet the amazing women behind the program! If you are attending the Sedona clinic, I'll see you there!
www.vidamtb.com
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Down, but not out.
Yes, I did just use that oh-so-cliche saying as the title for this post. But the name fits perfectly with the concern of this post. One of the few definitions of cliche is "something that has become overly familiar or commonplace." Well unfortunately, me being hurt is overly familiar to just about anyone that knows me. Here I am again, maybe more than slightly broken.
My tendency to be covered in bumps, bruises, and scars is not a new one. I broke my arm at my elbow when I was three, they put me in a cast and I was immediately trying to figure out a way to climb the fence in my back yard and any tree in sight. I think I broke each of my pinkie fingers twice before I was 10 from crashing on my bike, jumping out of trees and off of swings, or sledding. I broke my other arm when I was eleven when I crashed on my bike. I cut my cast off with a pair of tin-snips and was back to climbing two weeks after. Court burn and dislocated thumbs were abundant from years of volleyball. However, most of my injuries were relatively minor until I blew my knee to pieces racing the downhill at U.S. Nationals in 2011. Two surgeries and seven months later I returned to sports and my knee has been happy ever since.
I finally quit ski racing in 2013 and immediately started riding and racing mountain bikes. The cross-over between ski racing and biking is massive so I picked it up rather quickly. Unfortunately I also decided that going fast downhill was what I liked the most, so I immediately started flinging myself down fast, steep, and gnarly stuff without really having ever acquired the skill to navigate safely. Luckily it wasn't long before I started riding with the guys from Bike Rev and I began to build my skill set. Three years into my biking career I'd like to think I'm a pretty good rider.
That doesn't seem to matter though--there is no avoiding injury. Its the nature of the beast. I was a pretty good ski racer who had a lot of success. But I crashed all the time, I got hit in the face by gates, I was covered in bruises, and I tore almost every ligament in my left knee. Now I am a pretty good biker. Still, I crash a lot, I have a lot of scars, I'm typically covered in cuts and bruises, I've been to the ER and plastic surgeon for stitches numerous times, and every ENT and Ortho knows me by name. Despite what everyone thinks, I am not just an out-of-control maniac who just tries to go as fast a possible all time no matter what. Yes, I like going fast, but I am not an idiot. It's also not bad luck. Shit just happens. It's just part of being an athlete.
That being said, not every athlete is going to have a serious injury. Lucky me, I'm on super-surgery serious-injury number two. Almost four months ago I crashed and completely dislocated my right elbow. Ulna and radius. Fortunately for me, I didn't break any bones or have any serious tissue damage as far as the doctors could tell. I had a pretty short recovery: I was off my bike for 7 weeks and then right back to it. Bikes, gym, yoga. Until a couple weeks ago when a crash, if you could even call it a crash, landed me back in my ortho's office. I dislocated my right elbow again. Though the dislocation was not nearly as severe, I somehow managed to tear the anterior bundle of my ulnar collateral ligament and tear my radial collateral ligament off my humerus. Now my humerus is not sitting in the cradle of my ulna correctly and I'm having reconstructive surgery next Wednesday.
When it happened I knew it was bad. I didn't know it was this bad. So you can imagine my shock when my ortho told me how severe my injury was and how long the recovery was going to be. I was thinking maybe a minor surgery to tighten things up and then 6-8 weeks off. Nope. Try reconstruction, an autograph from each of my forearms and 3-6 months off. I was heart broken and it has taken me three days to come to terms with it. But the fact of the matter is that there is no avoiding getting my elbow fixed; it will be better in the long run. I know that the world isn't actually ending and that I'll be back on my mountain bike before I know it. I know I'll come back stronger, faster, and more motivated. I know that I'm not going to get fat. I know I have the support of my family, my friends, my coaches, my doctors, and my physical therapist. How do I know this? Because I've here before. Twice.
I have come to terms with my injury, my surgery, and my recovery. I have found peace of mind looking at the track records of some of my biggest idols. Lindsey Vonn sustained serious knee injuries two years in a row and came back this year to break the record of most world cup wins by a female and took third in the super-g at world championships just a couple weeks ago. Aksel Svindal tore his achilles tendon in October and missed three months of the season, had a week of training going into world champs and got two 6th place finishes. Bode Miller had back surgery at the beginning of this season, missed three months, made it to world champs and was set to take the win in the men's super-g before crashing. All of these people are physically and mentally tough, that's why they made it back. That's why I know I'll be back. May 20th is the goal.
On the brighter side of things, I have some super awesome news to announce regarding this season. But it has to wait a couple more weeks ;). For now, I am thankful for my family, my friends, good doctors, the fact that I'm still on my parents health insurance, and the fact that I am twenty years old. I'll heal quicker ;).
P.S.: I really just wrote this to convince myself that I'll be fine. It worked. So if you read this, thanks :)
My tendency to be covered in bumps, bruises, and scars is not a new one. I broke my arm at my elbow when I was three, they put me in a cast and I was immediately trying to figure out a way to climb the fence in my back yard and any tree in sight. I think I broke each of my pinkie fingers twice before I was 10 from crashing on my bike, jumping out of trees and off of swings, or sledding. I broke my other arm when I was eleven when I crashed on my bike. I cut my cast off with a pair of tin-snips and was back to climbing two weeks after. Court burn and dislocated thumbs were abundant from years of volleyball. However, most of my injuries were relatively minor until I blew my knee to pieces racing the downhill at U.S. Nationals in 2011. Two surgeries and seven months later I returned to sports and my knee has been happy ever since.
I finally quit ski racing in 2013 and immediately started riding and racing mountain bikes. The cross-over between ski racing and biking is massive so I picked it up rather quickly. Unfortunately I also decided that going fast downhill was what I liked the most, so I immediately started flinging myself down fast, steep, and gnarly stuff without really having ever acquired the skill to navigate safely. Luckily it wasn't long before I started riding with the guys from Bike Rev and I began to build my skill set. Three years into my biking career I'd like to think I'm a pretty good rider.
That doesn't seem to matter though--there is no avoiding injury. Its the nature of the beast. I was a pretty good ski racer who had a lot of success. But I crashed all the time, I got hit in the face by gates, I was covered in bruises, and I tore almost every ligament in my left knee. Now I am a pretty good biker. Still, I crash a lot, I have a lot of scars, I'm typically covered in cuts and bruises, I've been to the ER and plastic surgeon for stitches numerous times, and every ENT and Ortho knows me by name. Despite what everyone thinks, I am not just an out-of-control maniac who just tries to go as fast a possible all time no matter what. Yes, I like going fast, but I am not an idiot. It's also not bad luck. Shit just happens. It's just part of being an athlete.
That being said, not every athlete is going to have a serious injury. Lucky me, I'm on super-surgery serious-injury number two. Almost four months ago I crashed and completely dislocated my right elbow. Ulna and radius. Fortunately for me, I didn't break any bones or have any serious tissue damage as far as the doctors could tell. I had a pretty short recovery: I was off my bike for 7 weeks and then right back to it. Bikes, gym, yoga. Until a couple weeks ago when a crash, if you could even call it a crash, landed me back in my ortho's office. I dislocated my right elbow again. Though the dislocation was not nearly as severe, I somehow managed to tear the anterior bundle of my ulnar collateral ligament and tear my radial collateral ligament off my humerus. Now my humerus is not sitting in the cradle of my ulna correctly and I'm having reconstructive surgery next Wednesday.
When it happened I knew it was bad. I didn't know it was this bad. So you can imagine my shock when my ortho told me how severe my injury was and how long the recovery was going to be. I was thinking maybe a minor surgery to tighten things up and then 6-8 weeks off. Nope. Try reconstruction, an autograph from each of my forearms and 3-6 months off. I was heart broken and it has taken me three days to come to terms with it. But the fact of the matter is that there is no avoiding getting my elbow fixed; it will be better in the long run. I know that the world isn't actually ending and that I'll be back on my mountain bike before I know it. I know I'll come back stronger, faster, and more motivated. I know that I'm not going to get fat. I know I have the support of my family, my friends, my coaches, my doctors, and my physical therapist. How do I know this? Because I've here before. Twice.
I have come to terms with my injury, my surgery, and my recovery. I have found peace of mind looking at the track records of some of my biggest idols. Lindsey Vonn sustained serious knee injuries two years in a row and came back this year to break the record of most world cup wins by a female and took third in the super-g at world championships just a couple weeks ago. Aksel Svindal tore his achilles tendon in October and missed three months of the season, had a week of training going into world champs and got two 6th place finishes. Bode Miller had back surgery at the beginning of this season, missed three months, made it to world champs and was set to take the win in the men's super-g before crashing. All of these people are physically and mentally tough, that's why they made it back. That's why I know I'll be back. May 20th is the goal.
On the brighter side of things, I have some super awesome news to announce regarding this season. But it has to wait a couple more weeks ;). For now, I am thankful for my family, my friends, good doctors, the fact that I'm still on my parents health insurance, and the fact that I am twenty years old. I'll heal quicker ;).
P.S.: I really just wrote this to convince myself that I'll be fine. It worked. So if you read this, thanks :)
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