Injury and the New Year.

It's approaching 2 months since I've been on my bicycle. A twinge in my knee has frightened me enough to abandon my two wheeled refuge in hopes that it doesn't develop into a true injury. The first month is one that almost any sane cyclist welcomes with a fair amount of glee. A season that begins in January and ends in October is sure to wear on even the most dedicated strongman. By the time the Mayor's Cup was rolling around, I was completely and utterly burned out.

This was evidenced by a ride I did one week to the day after my last race. It was the longest stretch I had been off the bike in 9 months. As I made the turn onto Beacon street, a turn I had made hundreds of times this year, and began to climb towards Cleveland Circle, I was absolutely floored. I felt incredible. I hadn't felt this much snap in my legs in months. I had no idea that I was in such a bad way! I rode out and met my teammates Mike Shinall and Brian Crosby, who were both gearing up to race The Jamestown Classic (my first and last race last season, and one that I wish I was gearing up for too).

It was that ride that I hurt my knee. At mile 20. The back of my right knee started to ache. I finished the ride. I didn't pay too much attention to it, as knee aches have come and gone all season for me. Two more days off the bike, and then a very stupid Century ride with the team and two new recruits. Same issue, except this time, I finished 65 miles after my knee began to ache.

Stupid.

More time off the bike, Halloween, the Rally for sanity, and then THE CROSS RACE. The same twinge. The same pain when I bend. This would be the last time I touched a bike. November 6th.

So here we are in the new year. Still no improvement in my stupid joint.

It's worse than that though. My legs hurt. They are sore every day. As if I have been doing intervals. When I flex. When I go upstairs. When I go down stairs. When I am sitting down. Both my thighs, calves, shins. My muscles are dying. I can feel it. It is a constant reminder of a persistent loss of fitness.  It keeps me up at night.

I weigh 165lbs. 15 lbs heavier from the end of the season. Thats big for any Cat 2.

This is a backstory to a very large, very frustrating realization. I have become obsessed with bike racing. Books and other literature tell you that this is an inevitability, and a necessity to attain any form of success. Looking back on my season last year, I can say with absolute certainty that this is true. I logged 5876 miles on my bike since mid January of last year without any hesitation. That is more, I would wager, than I drove this year.

Yes, seriously.

While I am, for the most part, unapologetic for my absolute devotion and compulsion, I have realized that I have forsaken friendships. I have missed out on opportunities. I have maybe put too much stock in this one (albeit large) aspect of my life. All of my eggs are in this cycling basket, and with it suddenly unavailable to me, I have become somewhat of a recluse. Hours and hours of my day that are otherwise occupied by a focused period of time on the bicycle, have been replaced with feverous worry and anxiety. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't seem to translate the time and energy spent on being fast into anything remotely productive.

The New Year is a saving grace for many. It is a punctuation mark which can serve as a catalyst. I haven't decided what road to take just yet. My joints still ache. My mind still wanders. My heart still races when I think of going toe to toe with anyone. I know what I want to do. It's going to be a matter of if my body will allow it...