I had a lucky “rare” break of the distal side (outer third) of the scaphoid. Much better blood flow (for healing) and it is very nicely aligned. No screw, six weeks in the cast (I paid the extra $36 for waterproof because duh), and no limits on my activities. That said, I attempted to pull my brake lever in the garage upon returning home, and yeah, I won’t be riding outside unless I don’t care about the whole stopping bit (Wanted: A sweet velodrome). Something tells me the doc knew this when he said I could ride.
So that’s all pretty cool. I’m still beat up in general from the crash, but I should be able to run and rock the trainer soon!
No lengthy race report here because typing is too damned slow. I went up to MD to participate in this one, which is unique in the fact that it has a 1.4-mile gravel section. Coupled with the rains we’d had all week and the fact I couldn’t sleep the night before, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it.
Anyway, my race went pretty well until the end. I felt pretty strong coming into the finish, found myself in a tight position, tried a bit too hard to find daylight for the sprint, crossed wheels with a friend in front of me, and down I went at 30mph. Adrenaline got me right back on my feet and a quick examination of my bike told me it’d be quicker to run the final 300m than to get the wheels spinning again. I hoisted the bike on my shoulder and made my way to the finish to come in 27th of about 50 starters. Not too bad a result considering.
I got cleaned up by the onsite medic and decided that my wrist likely needed to be looked at; I’d never broken a bone and the pain in it was a new type to me.. I was pretty certain what the result would be. About five hours after the fall, I was out if the Virginia Hospital Center with a diagnosis of a broken scaphoid. My season is pretty much over :/
The scaphoid is commonly broken in falls of this type, but its treatment is surprisingly irregular. Due to its location, it receives very little bloodflow and therefore takes a heck of a long time to heal. Increasingly common is to have a screw inserted to ensure proper alignment as well. Given what I’ve read I think I’m looking at 2-3 months of inactivity, but I’ll know more when I meet with an orthopedist next week.
My bike is fine once my bar tape is replaced, which comes as a pleasant surprise considering a friend who was behind me said it flew spectacularly. I’ll get that taken care of so I can hopefully retain some of my shape in preparation of cyclocross season on the trainer.
I didn’t manage to take anyone else out, which is pretty great. I don’t know what exactly happened to cause my tangle, but in order for the result to be what it was means that I had my bike where it shouldn’t have been. A painful lesson this time, but another nonetheless.
I’m pretty road rashed, but that pain is minimal in comparison to my wrist. How a bone the size of a cashew can hurt so much amazes me. I made it 31 years without this pain and I’d be happy to go another 31 following this. For those of you who haven’t ever busted anything, I’d describe it as the worst headache you’ve likely ever had, but in the part you broke. It’s a deep, painful throb that just won’t go away and rears its head [to a much greater level] every now and then for no apparent reason.
Mad props to Heather in advance of what’s looking to be a lengthy period in which I’m worthless for most intents and purposes. She was a trooper upon my arrival home after the race and is certainly going to have her hands full with the most minute of things to help me as I learn to get along with one hand.
Alas, with the season most assuredly over for me and with my options for entertainment limited to one hand (luckily, my good hand), I foresee a lot of reading getting done in the next few months. Any recommendations?
This month marks Mom’s 27th anniversary (month) with glioblastoma multiforme (Grade IV/the worst brain cancer). She’s now more than doubled the average lifespan for those afflicted and continues to go strong.
Back when she was diagnosed in 2011, some of her friends discovered that the brain cancer research race was just a few months away and in DC. They became team captains, recruited a bunch of folks, we raised a lot of money, and the Race For Hope 5k has become a yearly tradition and will continue to be.
This year, Mom was fresh off an appendicitis so she was unable to run like she did last year, but was able to provide some much-needed encouragement at the finish. I’m certain that she’ll be spotted sprinting down Pennsylvania Avenue again next year.
My race… Running has been an afterthought as I’ve been focusing on the bike racing thing, which has been a mixed bag. I’m getting about eight miles in per week, which is barely enough to consider myself a runner. I know, you’ve heard this story before, but a fact is a fact and it’s very much worth mentioning because cross-training really does work better than most would lead you to believe.
In the middle of last week, I stepped onto the track for the first time all year to do a mile time-trial; I had no idea what the outcome would be, but it’d guide me in selecting a pace for the race a few days afterward. The result was staggering. My GPS says 5:07 and the track said 5:30. Considering traffic, I’d say it’s safe to assume my actual time was somewhere between the two. Regardless, even the “slow” time is at least 20 seconds faster than I thought I was capable of. If it really was sub 5:10? Damn. I’m approaching my high school abilities (4:43 best) without running.
And then my allergies hit. Both Thursday and Friday I should have stayed in bed. I didn’t, and think I only prolonged the suffering. As of Friday, I wasn’t running the race. Miraculously, I began to feel quite a bit better on Saturday. By Sunday morning, I was near 100%. Sitting here Monday, I’m back to about 90%, which means running yesterday likely wasn’t the best thing for my long-term health, but I digress… I was good enough to race yesterday.
With a sub-6 handily under my belt and my adult PR being a 6:02 pace (18:47) about four years ago just before my hamstrings blew up, I decided that I’d shoot for sub-6 and see what happened. My last 5k was 19:08 back in November. Over the past couple of years I’ve slowly approached where I was when I was in my “adult prime,” but I was still a good bit off and with no speed work under my belt this year, I was probably getting a bit silly, but what have I got to lose? If there’s ever a race in which to pain yourself for a short bit to see what you’re really made of, this is probably the one… That pain is immediately minimized when you glance around at the survivors and realize how happy they’d be to trade shoes.
So sub-6 it is. Funny I should end the last paragraph on “shoes.” I’ve used the same pair of racing flats for around six years now. They likely only have about 150 miles on them as they’re solely (no pun) used for racing, but they’re old… Without taking a good look at them, I laced up and hit the door. Upon arriving at the race, I noticed there was a lot of loose gravel in the right one. I empty it and in doing so “see the light.” The light that is a result of a four inch separation between the upper and lower on the outside of my foot. Ugh. I don’t think it made much of a difference running-wise, but I made my way to the concierge at The Willard and wrapped my foot in packing tape. Duct tape would have been way classier, but beggars can’t be choosers. I now sounded like a box being cut open with every step, but I felt more confident that my shoe wasn’t going to continue to rip into two.
The race begins and I make my way toward the front. In having done quite a few charity races, I know there’s a lot of folks up front who shouldn’t be and the traffic will cost me precious time. Not today. I find some open road with about 20 folks in front of me, check the watch to zero in on my pace, and hit cruise control. After about half a mile, I found myself running comfortably with another man. We were clearly working off each other so we began to chat. The conversation was about as meaningful as one can be at 5:55 mile pace, but I did manage to apologize for my clicking shoe. Like me, he actually liked how it was keeping the pace. We ran together another mile or so before I pulled ahead. Mile #1: 5:56. Feeling good.
Mile #2: 5:51. In last year’s race, this is right where I began to lose my strength. This year, I felt great despite the headwind shooting across the pool in front of the Capitol and straight into us. Others clearly didn’t have the strength that I had and I began to pick them off. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… And then I fell comfortably into a gap that I would hold for the rest of the race.
Mile #3: 5:49. Negative splits? Hell yeah. This feels good. Except it doesn’t. It hurts like hell. And then I see Mom and the crew, realize how little it really hurts, take a peek around (nobody close, front or back), and continue to cruise to the finish for a finish time of 18:25 (5:55 pace). 15th overall and 2nd in age-group (the 1st guy was top-3 overall so he doesn’t count… hehe) Note: Races are usually a bit longer than the prescribed distance due to traffic, not taking the absolute best line around each corner, etc. (that explains my miles all being faster than my “overall race pace”).
An adult best by 22 seconds and a minute faster than last year. Hell yes. My first time running a sub-6 5k since high school. It’s looking to be a great running season, which I’ll continue to train for primarily by cycling. Next goal? The 17s. At that point, I’ll need to pull out my records and see what my “youngster best” was.
My next race is possibly a training criterium this Wednesday in Greenbelt followed by a road race in Poolesville on Saturday. I need some sleep and Claritin…