BACK IN THE SADDLE

All right enough doom and gloom. Yes, my life sucks right now and my body is trying to call it quits, but guess what? I am not. Lets get back to the funny Derek shall we? I don’t have a lot to offer physically however my mind is still ticking the hours away. I cannot bury my head in the sand and pretend this is not happening or that it will go away. It is what it is! What I can do is try and make the best of my time while I can.

At the request of my physical therapists and friend Bruno to get riding again I decided to give it a try. Mentally I have been paralyzed with fear thinking it was going to be impossible to achieve. This Saturday morning after dusting off my Trek Madone 5.2 Discovery Channel version road bike, in preparation for a short spin, I stood there looking at the stunning blue shining carbon-fiber steed. “Wow! That sure looks like a nice ride”, I say to myself.

Once I rubbed the sparkles from my eyes it was time to suit up. Cycling shoes, helmet, jersey, and the dreaded cycling shorts. Ahhh, the shorts, there they were hanging in the closet. Black, padded, and uncompromising from what I remember. It was time to squeeze myself into them, or so I thought. Both legs in and up they go until they stopped cruelly.
Mercilessly I tugged and yanked until they were on. Ohh the pain, the agony of something that used to fit? I took a quick look in the mirror and was mortified. There it was 25lbs of pork fat jammed into a 5 lb casing, it was not a pretty sight. I could hear the Hillshire Farms commercial in the background…. GO MEAT!!!!

The humility aside it was time to hit the asphalt. I donned my cooling vest, Froggy wet towel and knee brace then guardedly walked the “blue streak” to the road. Daisy watching me with anticipation of a walk, but no, this was my event. After my adjustments compensating for the lack of feeling in my left leg and foot were made to my pedal clips, it was time. My left foot already clipped in I push off and straddle the bike. A few tense moments of balance issues later I was rolling. Now fully clipped and peddling slowly it was all coming back to me. It was just like the catch phrase “it’s just like riding a bike”.
I was doing it!! I was doing it, Ye-haw I can still do the things that I like.

Very quickly another unyielding sensation became very apparent. The seat or what cyclists call the “saddle”. Very small and never in the right area was now intruding into my “man Junk” and areas south. Again, not an appealing sensation however all a part of the game. I was struggling at first but fortunately for me my left butt cheek and central area are numb so it was easily manageable. I was “Back in the Saddle again”.

I headed for the end of my road with what I am sure was the biggest smile on my face that anyone could ever have. Feeling like I was flying at warp speed with the wind blowing in my face I check my progress by looking at the speedometer. What an emotional high I was on until that glance at my Speedo that read 9 mph. Ughhh I thought, is that it? Well at least I was on the road, not fast, not pretty, but on the path to a brighter day. I peddled to the main road and made a right turn towards the “Dead end” sign. As I passes the sign I could only say to myself its not a dead end for me!!! It’s an open road for me to choose how far I want to travel.

Reaching the turn around point I execute a flawless maneuver and headed the other direction. I am on the road to recovery, keep going, don’t let yourself quit, I listen to the voices in my head and keep pedaling. As I pedal I feel my legs speaking a language of their own. “Fire, fire, were on fire,” they scream. Relentlessly I push on to the end of the main road where I try to extinguish the fire by stopping and taking a drink in hopes of squelching the burn.

Personal “SAG” stop over and legs still smoldering its time to trek back to the house. I travel homeward bound reveling in my own joy about something so simple as a short bike ride. Each stroke of the pedal pushed me inch by inch onward. The cadence was enjoyable though be it not as fast as my heart rate. I was traveling the road alone.

Only three miles under my belt final destination ahead I ponder the ramifications of my excursion. How will I feel tomorrow? How are my legs and arms going to be? The gate is ahead and I slow to a halt. Dismounting then rapidly realizing my legs are now like two tree stumps. Hard and unyielding to movement I don’t panic but take my time and shuffle my way to the house. Disrobe and slide into the cooling waters of the swimming pool for stretch and cool down time. It was not far but it might as well have been a century ride. I made it my first attempt of climbing out of the well of hopelessness!!!

Derek

"Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever." — Lance Armstrong (It's Not About the Bike: My Journey Back to Life)