CrossGeek

When will I ever get it through my thick noggin that Rome was not built in a day? Or that I’m not Rome? I am sort of famous among my friends for pushing my pace just a little too hard, or going a few miles too far. I’ve trained like that for 20 years. Everyone seems to know it except me. Inevitably, I wind up injured from these indulgences.

It feels good to go hard, and even though I know the consequences of that action, I somehow always believe that my body has become stronger and can handle it. I don’t know if it’s the endorphins or what, but I am exceptionally skilled in the destructive art of pushing my body beyond its capabilities. Doing this while recovering from injury, however, seems like the work of a master nincompoop.

I know full well what happens when I do this. One season, I pulled, tore, and strained muscles left and right all season long. Just as I would reach peak racing fitness, I’d strain a muscle. During one team time trial, I could not get off the bike after the finish because I had torn both hamstrings. I didn’t feel it at all when it happened during the race. Instead, I was treated to copious amounts of pain every time I had to walk during the next four weeks.

My old coach used to get incredibly frustrated with me because I strained muscles so often. Just when he was about to see the fruits of his labor, I wound up injured. Darn near every time.

I went to see my PT, Erik Moen, a week ago because my wracked neck muscles were prohibiting normal sleep. I couldn’t ride because of the pain, which also made it harder for me to sleep. His new PT, Jason Steere, did some amazing work on my neck muscles which shepherded me to a blissful twelve hours of sleep, and nine more the next night. Erik told me to ride 45 minutes per day. 45 minutes, no more, for the next couple of weeks.

I did as he said, churning out 45 minutes the next day, and another 45 the day after. It felt great, and I got tired enough to sleep well both days. A couple days later, I was feeling pretty good, and I met a friend for a ride. I knew I needed to turn around after about 20 minutes, but just like every year for the past 24 years, I thought, ‘Ahh, I can go a little further today.’ I wound up riding for eighty minutes, and I felt great the entire ride, but by the time night rolled around, my sad neck muscles were stiff and sore. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since. My chiropractor just straightened me out, so I am once again ready to ride.

45 minutes, no more, for two weeks.

My good friend Jerry Baker has always said it’s better to go shorter today so that I have the energy to ride tomorrow. He says it’s better for the body to ride every day and slowly build endurance than to ride long one day and spend the next four days recovering. Makes good sense.

Tomorrow’s ride? 45 minutes, easy. Maybe one of these days I will figure out why my brain goes numb on the bike, and then follow the advice of wise friends.

One thing I have learned over the years is that cyclocross is so hard that it is the perfect discipline of cycling for me. It’s the only one where I am physically unable to push myself to the point of injury. Gotta love ‘cross.

Hope JP gets to race World’s.