So I swam to a spot that gave me a modicum of stability.
Then I remembered I could ride. So I got on the bike and peddled, as if I were actually moving.
It is then that I rediscovered that, to get somewhere, I had to work hard to get nowhere.
I've spent a little too much time not moving, mourning my lost athleticism and blaming a recalcitrant body part -- my foot -- for an almost unforgivable slide into decrepitude.
Sure. My foot hurts. It makes its presence known at the most inopportune moments, such as first thing in the morning, last thing at night and many times in between. But I have grown tired of growing and being tired.
A friend, likewise burdened with self imposed inactivity, suggested we do a little race. Ironman St. George, Utah.
last year. What is new is the idea of training indoors. Pulling myself out of this funk by moving as deliberately and as fast as I can, without really going anywhere. I'm working hard to get nowhere and everywhere.
The race is on May 5th. That means that all the bike riding will most likely be indoors, or at least the 3 to 7-hour junkets. There will be no open water swim practice. Last time I swam in a Saskatchewan lake before June, I altered my anatomy in a not-so-favourable way.
Then there is running. Over a month ago, I started running indoors, at the track and on the treadmill. Plodding, really, not running. The foot complained, but because it was well taped, that seemed to muffle it's annoying protestations. Following the runs it was less than unbearably painful, so that gave me some hope.
I'm slow. The ice doesn't help. But I'm running. There were times when I thought that I would never run again.
|New shirt, new 'do, new 'tude.|
I only have a few months to get race-ready and I'm looking forward to that experience. More than that, I'm eager to reacquaint myself with the guy that I left behind in self piteous oblivion last June.
Follow me here and I'll try not to get lost again.