The road to recovery is probably much easier if you are a patient that listens to your doctors.
My doctor’s suggestion: I should be swimming and follow the instructions of my last blog entry.
Unofficial report: I have been swimming since the 4th day after my Achilles was booted. I could not resist. It was like a drug addict going cold turkey. I was feaning and swimming was a must. The good news is, the pain is gone.
In fact, about a week after the boot, I could actually see my Achilles again and I was walking down the stairs pain free.
Last week, I got back on my bike for the first time in three weeks. I was freaked out the whole time, thinking that I was going to reinjure myself. With every tweak or twinge, my mind was racing. I was able to ride 30 miles and get off the bike without pain.
So fast forward to this week, where I have been swimming and biking more regularly. I was ready to go out on Saturday and test myself with a longer ride. I wanted to ride at least 50 miles. I woke without pain in my ankle and the weather was great.
The ride was going swell for the first twenty-four miles. I had made my way out to Vermillion and was feeling strong and relatively fast.
On mile 25 I descended a hill and started climbing an overpass. As I approached the top I saw an expansion joint, but I had no time to react and before I knew it I was flying upside down through the air with my bike over my head still connected to my feet. That is worst feeling in the world – knowing you are just along for the ride.
Then came the pavement with my hip first and then my elbow and then my head. Then came the sliding down the concrete.
After the initial agony, I cursed out the sport and said I was done with the whole thing. Yes, I looked like a crazy person yelling at my bike on the side of the road.
In classic Scott fashion, I did not have any ID with me, had left my cell phone at home, and was now laying on the road in Vermillion. I gathered myself and got my bike together. It initially appeared I had been battered worse than my bike, so I decided to keep riding further west for a couple miles.
I then tried to shift my small ring of gears and noticed that I had snapped the shifter when I hit the pavement. Mind you, it was snapped clean off and it was solid alloy. I must have hit harder than I thought.
So after about 28 miles, I turned around and headed home. Looking down, I noticed my elbow and my knee were now bleeding from the road rash. I also knew my hip was a road rash mess.
I made it home on two gears and in good time. So 55 miles later, except for the crash, it was a great ride and I had no pain in my Achilles.
Although, I have begun to question whether someone is trying to tell me something or least whether there are such things as signs?
Editor’s Note: He somehow neglected to mention that he went out on another ride yesterday evening. Since he had immediately taken his race bike to the bike hospital, he was on his road bike. That left our bedroom a bike-free zone. I took a little time out of my busy schedule to appreciate the beauty.
My doctor’s suggestion: I should be swimming and follow the instructions of my last blog entry.
Unofficial report: I have been swimming since the 4th day after my Achilles was booted. I could not resist. It was like a drug addict going cold turkey. I was feaning and swimming was a must. The good news is, the pain is gone.
In fact, about a week after the boot, I could actually see my Achilles again and I was walking down the stairs pain free.
Last week, I got back on my bike for the first time in three weeks. I was freaked out the whole time, thinking that I was going to reinjure myself. With every tweak or twinge, my mind was racing. I was able to ride 30 miles and get off the bike without pain.
So fast forward to this week, where I have been swimming and biking more regularly. I was ready to go out on Saturday and test myself with a longer ride. I wanted to ride at least 50 miles. I woke without pain in my ankle and the weather was great.
The ride was going swell for the first twenty-four miles. I had made my way out to Vermillion and was feeling strong and relatively fast.
On mile 25 I descended a hill and started climbing an overpass. As I approached the top I saw an expansion joint, but I had no time to react and before I knew it I was flying upside down through the air with my bike over my head still connected to my feet. That is worst feeling in the world – knowing you are just along for the ride.
Then came the pavement with my hip first and then my elbow and then my head. Then came the sliding down the concrete.
After the initial agony, I cursed out the sport and said I was done with the whole thing. Yes, I looked like a crazy person yelling at my bike on the side of the road.
In classic Scott fashion, I did not have any ID with me, had left my cell phone at home, and was now laying on the road in Vermillion. I gathered myself and got my bike together. It initially appeared I had been battered worse than my bike, so I decided to keep riding further west for a couple miles.
I then tried to shift my small ring of gears and noticed that I had snapped the shifter when I hit the pavement. Mind you, it was snapped clean off and it was solid alloy. I must have hit harder than I thought.
So after about 28 miles, I turned around and headed home. Looking down, I noticed my elbow and my knee were now bleeding from the road rash. I also knew my hip was a road rash mess.
I made it home on two gears and in good time. So 55 miles later, except for the crash, it was a great ride and I had no pain in my Achilles.
Although, I have begun to question whether someone is trying to tell me something or least whether there are such things as signs?
Editor’s Note: He somehow neglected to mention that he went out on another ride yesterday evening. Since he had immediately taken his race bike to the bike hospital, he was on his road bike. That left our bedroom a bike-free zone. I took a little time out of my busy schedule to appreciate the beauty.
