The Mailman's Smarter
I'm a stupid little kid. Faced with the opportunity of riding in sub zero temps with all my gear and my new "extreme weather" tights, I rode in this morning despite the discomfort I was still feeling in my knee.
Actually let me back up a bit. My knee was feeling fine. I was feeling fine. The meds I took seemed to have worked their magic and I was ready to roll. At least until I went up and down the stairs a few times in last minute preparations before my ride. The pain came back, but I ignored it. I was all geared up and ready to go. To hell with the pain.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
Within a half mile I was literally screaming in pain. Did I turn around? No. I actually took a different route that was going to be longer. Was I cold? Couldn't tell. My knee hurt so bad I didn't notice. I thought standing up would help alleviate the pain - only minimally. Every turn of the crank, sharp screaming pain shot up from my knee. Even with no pressure on that foot, my knee was killing me. Fits of fury ran through me as I struggled to tolerate. I started to notice I was getting warm - really warm. Cursing myself and screaming out I moved along the wind swept roads.
My head started to throb. All the crap I had wrapped around my head caused me to hold it a certain way that made it ache. This sucked. I wasn't riding home after work. I was calling Jen and having her pick me up. This was the worst ride ever. Eventually I pulled my foot out of the pedal to rest it on the rear skewer and let the pedal spin without my leg interfering. I noticed something very strange when I did this. With every pedal revolution the bike felt like it was moving in two separate pieces. I thought I was going crazy. Was it hypothermia or pain induced hallucinations? What the hell was going on? It felt like it did the week before I realized my frame was cracked. Two frames in a year? I looked down at the bottom bracket and chainstays to see any extra movement. Nothing. I looked down at the steer tube for the telltale crack. Nothing. My head was throbbing.
I pedaled (one footed) on. Down the hills I would use the brake and rest my ailing leg on the skewer. Up the hills I pedaled. I only saw pain. At one point on a downhill, a cross wind caught me and moved me laterally two feet toward the icy shoulder. Wo! Steady.
Finally at the bottom of my commute, protected from cars on the bike path, I reevaluated. I slowed things down. I slowed things way down. I put my foot back on the pedal and relaxed. Slowly I let it turn with the crank. I relaxed my shoulders, my core, legs and my feet. I applied only the pressure necessary to move the bike forward. I was warm and didn't need to go fast. I started to feel things other than pain. I could feel my toes. I could feel my thighs flexing. I began repeating to myself "slow it down." "Go slow. There's no race. There's no hurry. Slow it down. Zen thoughts. Think zen thoughts. Relax it out. Relax out the pain."
It started to work. The pain in my knee went from grinding glass to dull throb to a simple sensation. Over and over I repeated my mantra. Slowly I cranked my way to work. Relaxing and enjoying the simplicity of going slow. I felt like I was going slow enough for birds to land on me as they flew by. The road was quiet. There were no cars. I was protected from the wind. I pedaled on. If I had to climb, I stood up only inches off the seat and pedaled smoothly - keeping everything relaxed. Sit back down and pedal smooth. It was beautiful. I couldn't tell it was cold and my knee was no longer screaming. Slowly I pedaled onto work. The throbbing in my head remained. Because of that, I was still going to let Jen take me home tonight. Then for some reason, I decided to loosen my helmet. Voila! The throbbing disappeared. My helmet was too tight. Every thing was now perfect. I rolled on.
At an intersection, as I waited to turn left, a woman driving the other way was staring at me like I was from outer space. I stared back and she whipped her head the other way to mind her own business. I got a chuckle out of that. After defeating my pain, I guess I got a little cocky. At the office I decided to head in the front door. A bunch of fat slobs usually stand out there smoking all day and I was looking for a fight. I wanted to hear the "You're crazy." I was ready. My mantra was gone. I made it. No need to relax anymore. I was all fired up with "You stand there all day sucking cancer into your lungs and you think I'm crazy?"
Lucky for me, no one was there. I walked in and went to work.
Actually let me back up a bit. My knee was feeling fine. I was feeling fine. The meds I took seemed to have worked their magic and I was ready to roll. At least until I went up and down the stairs a few times in last minute preparations before my ride. The pain came back, but I ignored it. I was all geared up and ready to go. To hell with the pain.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
Within a half mile I was literally screaming in pain. Did I turn around? No. I actually took a different route that was going to be longer. Was I cold? Couldn't tell. My knee hurt so bad I didn't notice. I thought standing up would help alleviate the pain - only minimally. Every turn of the crank, sharp screaming pain shot up from my knee. Even with no pressure on that foot, my knee was killing me. Fits of fury ran through me as I struggled to tolerate. I started to notice I was getting warm - really warm. Cursing myself and screaming out I moved along the wind swept roads.
My head started to throb. All the crap I had wrapped around my head caused me to hold it a certain way that made it ache. This sucked. I wasn't riding home after work. I was calling Jen and having her pick me up. This was the worst ride ever. Eventually I pulled my foot out of the pedal to rest it on the rear skewer and let the pedal spin without my leg interfering. I noticed something very strange when I did this. With every pedal revolution the bike felt like it was moving in two separate pieces. I thought I was going crazy. Was it hypothermia or pain induced hallucinations? What the hell was going on? It felt like it did the week before I realized my frame was cracked. Two frames in a year? I looked down at the bottom bracket and chainstays to see any extra movement. Nothing. I looked down at the steer tube for the telltale crack. Nothing. My head was throbbing.
I pedaled (one footed) on. Down the hills I would use the brake and rest my ailing leg on the skewer. Up the hills I pedaled. I only saw pain. At one point on a downhill, a cross wind caught me and moved me laterally two feet toward the icy shoulder. Wo! Steady.
Finally at the bottom of my commute, protected from cars on the bike path, I reevaluated. I slowed things down. I slowed things way down. I put my foot back on the pedal and relaxed. Slowly I let it turn with the crank. I relaxed my shoulders, my core, legs and my feet. I applied only the pressure necessary to move the bike forward. I was warm and didn't need to go fast. I started to feel things other than pain. I could feel my toes. I could feel my thighs flexing. I began repeating to myself "slow it down." "Go slow. There's no race. There's no hurry. Slow it down. Zen thoughts. Think zen thoughts. Relax it out. Relax out the pain."
It started to work. The pain in my knee went from grinding glass to dull throb to a simple sensation. Over and over I repeated my mantra. Slowly I cranked my way to work. Relaxing and enjoying the simplicity of going slow. I felt like I was going slow enough for birds to land on me as they flew by. The road was quiet. There were no cars. I was protected from the wind. I pedaled on. If I had to climb, I stood up only inches off the seat and pedaled smoothly - keeping everything relaxed. Sit back down and pedal smooth. It was beautiful. I couldn't tell it was cold and my knee was no longer screaming. Slowly I pedaled onto work. The throbbing in my head remained. Because of that, I was still going to let Jen take me home tonight. Then for some reason, I decided to loosen my helmet. Voila! The throbbing disappeared. My helmet was too tight. Every thing was now perfect. I rolled on.
At an intersection, as I waited to turn left, a woman driving the other way was staring at me like I was from outer space. I stared back and she whipped her head the other way to mind her own business. I got a chuckle out of that. After defeating my pain, I guess I got a little cocky. At the office I decided to head in the front door. A bunch of fat slobs usually stand out there smoking all day and I was looking for a fight. I wanted to hear the "You're crazy." I was ready. My mantra was gone. I made it. No need to relax anymore. I was all fired up with "You stand there all day sucking cancer into your lungs and you think I'm crazy?"
Lucky for me, no one was there. I walked in and went to work.
posted by JenBob at
9:58 AM
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