Bike Time: 21 minutes (11 minute warm-up, 10 minutes of forward motion)
Distance: 1.13 miles
I might start out all future entries like Bridget in Helen Fielding's Bridget Jones' Diary. She starts her journal entries with her weight, calories consumed and alcohol units imbibed. Instead, I'll list the time and distances I've spent on a stationary bike. I have no desire to list my weight. I know I've gained weight since my accident, and I don't want it quantified. I was at lunch with my friend Eleanor who is psychologically incapable of lying. I said I think I gained fifteen pounds, and she said, "Why of course you have!" I am still eating the same amount of food I used to and I have the same appetite, but my activity level is way less even though it feels like ten times the effort to do activities of daily living. Going to the grocery store feels like climbing Little Si, minus the endorphin rush from exercise, a serotonin boost from the view and a sense of accomplishment.
Speaking of simple physical activities, yesterday at physical therapy, I made it all the way around on the stationary bike. Turning the crank all 360 degrees was a major accomplishment, even if I was doing it backwards. I am supposed to ride the exercise bike for ten minutes a day, even if I don't make it all the way around and just swish back and forth. I am supposed to have zero resistance so I don't damage my repaired knee. I will eventually work my way up to 45 minutes, and then increase the resistance.
Yesterday afternoon, Jack and I went to the university's athletic center, and signed me up for a quarterly membership. I feel like I am cheating on the University YMCA, but I was going to die if I had to go there and look out of the cardio room at the same three beige houses again that are across the street. At the Intramural Activity Center (IMA), Jack found me a quiet bike in a corner that overlooks Lake Washington, the sports fields and Laurelhurst. This is infinitely better. I read an article that looking at trees improves healing. I'll buy it.
Today, I went to the IMA and was rocking back and forth on the bike. After about three minutes, I was able to spin around backwards. I figured out if I pointed my toe down, I wouldn't have to bend my knee as much and I could still get around. This is crappy form if you are a real cyclist or are riding on a road. I did it anyway.
After spinning backwards for awhile, I decided to try going forward. I don't know why going forward was so much harder than going backward, but it was. Finally, I made it over the top of the curve! Yay! And then I had to do it again. Boo. I was going so slowly the bike was registering that I was taking a "pause" from working out. Really, LifeCycle? I am trying my hardest here.
After the first few circles, I had a feeling of deja vu. Back in the 1990's, Jack and I did the TOMRV, or the Tour of the Mississippi River Valley. It is a two day bike ride -- 106 miles out the first day and then 76 miles back the second day when we did it. I managed the first day just fine. The second day was harder. I was at about 70 some-odd miles, when I turned a corner and saw a three mile stretch that was all uphill. I could have looked at it and said, "On the bright side, there is probably a three mile downhill on the other side," but my optimism had left me at mile 25 when I fell over on a killer hill trying to change gears. My bike didn't want to shift, my chain fell off, and I hit the ground. I was pissed. About twenty miles later when I saw that three mile grind, I said forget it. My butt had been in the saddle for a total of 175 miles in two days. My legs felt like they were going to rebel if my brain made them go up that hill. My brain found my legs useful and didn't want them to leave me. I am done, I thought.
Today on the bike, I felt like I did at the end of the second day of the TOMRV looking at that three mile hill. I was pooped and I wanted to get sagged* in like I did twenty plus years ago. Except this time, I was at the beginning of the ride, not at the end. Unlike at the end of the TOMRV, I kept going. I had no choice. I plugged away for ten minutes. I started to feel better, but I was ready to end when the timer rolled around to 9:58 on the bike. Before the surgery, I was riding 50 minute a day, and going between 10 and 12 miles. (Before the accident, I could ride from the U District to the Redhook Ale Brewery in Woodinville and back. I am trying not to think about that, but maybe I should. I suppose Lindsey Vonn didn't forget about her Olympic victories while she was recovering from her torn ACL.) Today, it took about ten minutes to warm up to ride 1.31 miles in ten minutes. In the warm up, the bike didn't keep time. I kept looking at my watch to check the time, but it didn't register. I didn't want to admit that what felt like an epic journey was only three minutes. I knew how long I biked because Jack jogged while I rode, and he tracked the time.
It felt good to move my legs. After the IMA, Jack and I went to the grocery store. I hopped around and picked up a few things while he did the main shopping. What should have been a modest adventure wiped me out for the rest of the afternoon and I napped.
With this injury, I haven't had much to look forward to. My dad said that life is easiest when you have something to look forward to, like a vacation or event. But I am looking forward to getting back on the bike tomorrow.
* "Sagged in" means the cars and vans that support the ride drive around and pick up tired and injured bikers and people with bike problems. They picked me and my bike up and drove me to the finish line.
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