Injuries and illness, while a natural part of any athletes adventure (especially for spondy athletes), are not a topic that get much love on IG or in text threads with friends, but they are such a big piece of the mental health puzzle for those of us who ‘go’. This picture was taken one year ago Saturday. I was all smiles after finishing the Big Sky Biggie just seven days after a strong result and big effort at the York 38 Special—my fourth endurance event in four weeks, making for a big August. Sometimes when the going gets rough and we’re not feeling strong, we need to reflect on a time not long ago when we felt strong physically and mentally, and this picture does that for me. What a difference a year makes.
After two+ years of dodging COVID, it finally caught up with us and when it hit, it hit our house hard. On the morning we were originally scheduled to leave for Colorado for the Breck Epic, I woke up sick—after feeling off on the bike the day before. Feeling weak and depleted, I went for an early ride to see if I could shake it and came home knowing I was sick and assuming it was COVID. I climbed into bed and slept the day away and then the next morning, I tested positive for COVID. Kamiah never tested positive but had mild symptoms for a couple days prior (so mild we didn’t know she had it), but Amanda and I took it on the chin. Between my autoimmune and clotting disorder and my propensity to ride my bike for long distances, I’ve really wanted nothing to do with COVID.
I wasn’t prepared for how COVID would hit. It hit me like a truck—and for two weeks it’s felt like that truck is still sitting on my chest. August is always a big month for us with races and river trips. After pulling the plug on the Breck, we ended up canceling our annual end of summer Snake River trip (a treasured summer ritual) and then we had to pull the plug on one of my favorite local endurance MTB races, the Big Sky Biggie. I had been training with purpose all spring and summer and had some big goals and planned on popping off a fast and strong ride as I would be coming in with fresh legs this year and was hunting for a result, so it’s been pretty deflating and disappointing, but I’ve been accepting instead of fighting the loss, thoughtfully navigating this current challenge by embracing the reality of it all. COVID creates inflammation and its wreaked havoc on the cartilage connecting my sternum and ribs, leading do a diagnosis of Costochondritis, which is no joke (shout out to my wife who’s been dealing with this condition off and on for over a year); this combined with a thoracic spine injury from earlier this month and it’s been a rough and rugged ride. Rebecca’s Private Idaho will be a no go on Sunday, another race gone but not forgotten. My daughter has a double-header NICA race this weekend, so I’m super stoked about that and I’m already turning my focus to a 2023 redemption tour.
I’ve been off the bike, out of the water and weight room for sixteen days, and finally got cleared to sneak in a short ride (I’ve put in two easy saddle sessions, one on the mtb and the other on dirt roads, and it doesn’t seem like I’m ready to be back in the saddle just yet, so I’m back into ODAAT (one day at a time) mode and I’m just hoping I’ll bounce back soon enough to salvage a pedaly fall on the MTB as this time out of the saddle has required some seriously heavy lifting (mentally). It’ll happen, or it won’t, and I’ll do my best to navigate it with grace and grit either way, practicing delicate self care along the way, physically and mentally, striving to give myself grace when I’m not navigating the waves of emotion as well as I’d like.
I’m awfully grateful for Parts work (IFS), for the support of my wife and parents, for a daughter that gives me more purpose than anything ever has, for Dr. John Wimberly and for all the seasons of health and training that provide so much joy and sustenance.
With nothin’ but love, mwl