This past week was supposed to be a relaxing getaway full of sun, sand and saddle time. I keep telling myself, two out of three isn't bad. Looking back to recent history, I cannot remember the last time I had been so relaxed. Not a worry in the world once I stop worrying about my level of fitness and health.
The first day down here, I did some running on the beach. This wasn't your typical "let's go for a run" type of run. You all know I wouldn't say or do such a thing. Instead, it was just a few short pain free minutes (maybe 20) of throwing the frisbee with Todd. The following morning was a different story. My right hip flexor started to yell obscenities with my every attempt to move it. I tried to reason with it, explaining this was a family beach and those kind of words would not be tolerated. I even tried smacking it around a bit. That didn't work either.
With this slated to be a heavy mileage week in preparation of the upcoming ADK 540, I got on my bike and headed out for the better part of the morning. I wish I could report the ride was a success but it was anything but. I quickly became frustrated as I attempted to break the world record of completing the most missed turns in the first half of a ride. At the same time, the hip pain had now stretched all the way down the outside of my leg.
At one point it was bad enough to bring me 79.9% of the way to mentally breaking. Instead of crawling into a ditch to cry, I turned the wheel towards home and bagged the rest of the ride. The ride ended up, being less than 5 miles shorter in that direction. The original route would have been more scenic but without the mental fortitude it certainly wouldn't have been more enjoyable.
Fast forward through two days of extreme hip therapy consisting of hours upon hours of sitting on the beach perfecting all my amazing tan lines. What most people try to avoid, I usually excel. My crisp, sharp lines of differing color on my skin would make any cyclist proud.
Yesterday, I awoke and my hip had stopped yelling at me so I decided to take a few laps around the island. The plan was to ride for as long as I could go without feeling any pain in my hip. That lasted close to 4 miles. Frustrated, I finished up 2 laps of the island which are similar to extended loops of Westcreek but without any sort of change in elevation just flat, mind numbing miles. And yes, I do realize Westcreek doesn't have any real elevation change but it does require me to use the rear shifter twice every 6 miles. So I went back to the self-prescribed beach therapy.
It looks as if I will be giving it one more crack this morning when the other 8 members of the house take to the road for a few laps of back and forth action. If only the superpowers of the flat, straight roads could be used for good (hip numbing) instead of evil (mind numbing) my world would be perfect.
The first day down here, I did some running on the beach. This wasn't your typical "let's go for a run" type of run. You all know I wouldn't say or do such a thing. Instead, it was just a few short pain free minutes (maybe 20) of throwing the frisbee with Todd. The following morning was a different story. My right hip flexor started to yell obscenities with my every attempt to move it. I tried to reason with it, explaining this was a family beach and those kind of words would not be tolerated. I even tried smacking it around a bit. That didn't work either.
With this slated to be a heavy mileage week in preparation of the upcoming ADK 540, I got on my bike and headed out for the better part of the morning. I wish I could report the ride was a success but it was anything but. I quickly became frustrated as I attempted to break the world record of completing the most missed turns in the first half of a ride. At the same time, the hip pain had now stretched all the way down the outside of my leg.
At one point it was bad enough to bring me 79.9% of the way to mentally breaking. Instead of crawling into a ditch to cry, I turned the wheel towards home and bagged the rest of the ride. The ride ended up, being less than 5 miles shorter in that direction. The original route would have been more scenic but without the mental fortitude it certainly wouldn't have been more enjoyable.
Fast forward through two days of extreme hip therapy consisting of hours upon hours of sitting on the beach perfecting all my amazing tan lines. What most people try to avoid, I usually excel. My crisp, sharp lines of differing color on my skin would make any cyclist proud.
Like my new do?