a more human knee
My one and only job and objective today was to get my knee to be a more human knee, and a lot less volleyball. As I spent all day and night icing it down I think I succeeded — now it looks like a human knee swallowed a softball , so there is a semblance of a human joint there now.
Seriously, the swelling has subsided significantly so that I’m able to bend the knee, where my range of motion was severely limited yesterday, and the pain is significantly alleviated, too. So in that sense a day off was a success. But only repeated use will provide the proof.
This happened to me last year when I was biking the first half of the Atlantic Coast / East Coast Greenway Trail. After a two day stretch of 130 miles, including a 77 mile day in to Melbourne Beach, my knee blew up like it did yesterday. Some people thought my ride was over after 450 miles. I took two days off with ice and anti-inflammatories and minimal walking, and proceeded to bike 1,000 more miles without a similar incident, and finished half the route.
I knew it might happen again this year because the Spinners have a tight schedule with minimal days off and a couple of instances of consecutive long days planned. I hoped it wouldn’t recur, but alas, it did. Now I get an opportunity to reset and reconsider the ride — what will become: “my ride.” Here are things for me to consider:
Lack of a deadline: I loved, truly enjoyed, the consensus building of a group of 4-6 people having to come to a general agreement on issues of lodging, meals, timelines, etc., but sometimes the loss of complete autonomy felt constraining—and nowhere more than in the deadline of a June 5th finish. I no longer felt I wanted to miss that museum, or that interpretive historical marker, because we had said ferry to catch at a specific hour or certain mileage to make. This is one thing one must adapt to, and I wasn’t completely successsful at it. I’d never gone 15 days without taking an off day, recall I was biking for a week from Georgetown, SC before I met the group in Jacksonville, NC, making up the gap from where I left the route in the south last year. I (my knee) requires a day off every 7-10 days, so I biketour without a hard schedule, just a loose idea of when I’ll be done. This was a bit challenging for me.
Weather: On occasion I’ll take an extra day off due to severe weather, be it a nor’easter, record rains, or record heat. A set schedule without days off precludes that ability. As someone who had a hospitalization with acute renal failure from dehydration, after summiting Mt. Katahdin during a thru hike of the Appalachian Trail (2001), and then wound up in the emergency room again twice on two other thru hikes (2004, 2010) requiring saline IV’s — despite hydrating well — I take the heat very seriously. And after feeling mildly dehydrated yesterday in the early record heat, 94 degrees, and staying out too long on a 77 mile day, I probably would have erred on the side of safety and taken a very short day 25-35 mile today (early in the morning). So already, even if my knee was perfect, I could see a stagger between me and the main group developing. It was already developing when I couldn’t reconcile some of the off-route lodging options.
Recovery Time & Space: One of the things about riding solo, and having complete autonomy, is being able to recover without justification, and more importantly — without the guilt that I may be slowing down the group or causing consternation. I’ve done numerous group rides and none of them have gone beyond 9 days. As more time passes more differences become apparent in riding styles, personalities and proclivities that may not jibe with your own. That becomes more challenging, not easier for me, as time passes. As an only child I was used to solitude and space — and sharing a room with three others or a house, bathroom, bedroom, et al., with five others is, admittedly, challenging for me. And sometimes I need the space and room to air out my saddle sores, snore without guilt, explode my panniers out, drape drying clothes all about, and charge all my stuff first instead of deferring as I do. I find this challenging too. Sometimes you just gotta ice your knee out multiple times daily in bed in comfort, and sometimes all day while others move on.
I didn’t leave them, they didn’t leave me, this is just when we started to “ride our own rides.”
I spent 7-seasons on the Appalachian Trail (2000, ‘01, ‘02, ‘04, ‘10, ‘12, & 2014) and one thing you heard ad nauseum was true — you have to “hike your own hike.”
Starting today I’ll be back riding my own ride — and missing Scott, Richard, Bobby, Jeff, Lois, and Ashley as convivial riding partners enjoying the good sights and sounds, and commiserating through the 32mph headwinds and sideways rain. That camaraderie is hard to come by — and it’s golden!
But I won’t miss the predetermined schedule, the proximity when you’re craving space, the haggling about who will travel to whom for dinner, or the sharing of bedrooms.
And this heat, too, shall pass.
Day 19:
Start: East Windsor, NJ
Finish: East Windsor, NJ
Miles: 0
I’ve always been keen to combine the Atlantic Coast Route with the East Coast Greenway — I did it often last year, when I rode a combination of the two over 1,400 miles. I’m going back to it starting today. I’ll be combining the East Coast Greenway and the Atlantic Coast Route starting today. I’m keeping mileages low — including another off-day in New York City… because… New York City!
I’ll make my way up the island to Stamford, New Haven, Simsbury / Hartford, Mansfield, and then a straight shot home for a few days off in Jamaica Plain (Boston), before resuming up to Lubec and probably Calais, Maine — the northern terminus of the East Coast Greenway — and then bike a few miles in Canada… because… Canada!
That’s the plan. The knee will comply… (pretty please?)
What I’m Reading:
over the fixed images of memory, a scaffold weighs
its shadow, in the shape of a pendulum
pendulum pendulum
— María Auxiliadora Álvarez / “11”
thee istsfor manity reader 