REBOUND

One of the BEST things I’ve done is read the book REBOUND by Carrie Cheadle and Cindy Kuzma. If you are injured, run and get it right now. Oh, wait. If you’re injured you might not be able to run. [Order it HERE.] I’ve actually been reading the book, listening to the book and have subscribed to the podcast. I’ve joined the Facebook group and even interacted with other athletes on the page. I’ve printed out the worksheets and actually used them. I’ve downloaded a set of guided meditations they include and actually used them!

In this phase of NOT training my body, the best thing I can do is train my mind. As they say in the book: recovery is now my sport and mental recovery is just as important as the healing that’s going on in my body. This injury has had a big impact on my heart and mind.

I’ve already learned some big lessons working through the book — big lessons that will serve me in life - maybe more than will serve me in triathlon. But, because life is full-circle, I know that the drills and skills are not a one-and-done effort. So, maybe I’ll work through a few of my favorites here.

Until then, join me in the high school basketball chant: R-E, R-E-B, R-E-B-O-U-N-D, REBOUND! GET IT! GET IT! REBOUND!

WEEK NINE

I’ve skipped a few weeks, but thought I’d catch up on my progress. I saw Dr. Boyd last week and he seemed pleased with my progress. My extension is still good and my flexion is much better. After weeks of being stuck at 105 degrees, I finally measured in the teens (116/113/113). I was surprised when he said I could bike more - and even move it outdoors. I’m not ready for that yet, but this means I get to progress my duration on the bike. On Tuesday, I did 30 minutes total on the bike. A 15 minute Peloton ride with Denis Morton (80s hair bands, yes, please!). Then, 10 minutes strength. Then, another 15-minute ride with Jenn Sherman (90’s power women) and another 10 minutes of strength. It felt like a real workout!

My biggest frustration: I have only been cleared to walk one lap around the track. That’s a quarter mile and I normally walk Sunny longer than that. I thought by this time I’d be cleared to walk at least a mile. In theory, I know I could do it without much soreness. On the day of the Tour de Blueberry (as coordinator), I walked over 7500 steps over the course of the day. But, I don’t want to damage my meniscus repair and have a setback. So, for now, I’m on the elliptical. I can gain endurance even if I’m not running.

For rehab, Dr. Boyd said that I’d start to focus on single-leg activities. I’d already started on balancing with bands and single leg calf raises. This week we added single leg at 40# on the leg press and single leg with the rope slaps (my made-up term).

Here’s what my rehab workout looks like:

Warm-Up:
Bike 5’ + Elliptical 5’
Gait Drills
Heel Raises x 30
Extension Band x 30

Set I:
Leg Press at 80# - 3 x 10
Single Leg Press at 40# - 3 x 10
Single Leg Bands with Wide Rows, Bicep Rows and Lift Lowers - 3 x15
Front & Side Step-Ups on Step & BOSU with 8# weights - 20
Wall Slides - 3 x 15

Set II:
Single Leg Rope Slaps 2 x 30
Sit-Stands with 10# Weighted Ball 3 x 15
Squat Punches with Band Front & Side 30 each

CoolDown
Patella “Massage” & Stretch
Ice & Compression

Sit-Stands with a Kettlebell

Peloton Instructor Emma Lovewell. My longest bike ride (arms and intervals) on June 9, 2022.

Single Leg Rope Slaps on the Fat Mat

BACK TO THE START

They say be careful and take your time. And I feel like I am. But, my comeback is urgent. In order to keep my name on the list for Kona WC, I have to complete an Ironman this year! The great news is that my team knows this. My family knows it. My surgeon knew it going in. My physical therapist knows this. My training buddies know this. They are all keeping me in check. They don’t let me get cocky.

But, my goal is a big one and I am scared. I’ve signed up for Ironman Florida in November. And, as the weeks post-surgery add up and the weeks until the event count down…..I get a little anxious.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. I’ve maintained enough fitness for so long that I was essentially Ironman-ready year-round. I’ve never really taken a huge break like this. I have never come to a complete stop. My winter off-season was usually full of swimbikerun. My swim routine with the YDUBTRICLUB got me up and at’em on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 5:30am for 3000-4000 yard swims. The annual Tour of Sufferlandria in February would prompt me to get on my bike trainer in December and January. My Disney ultras in 2020 and 2022 always had me on a regular run schedule.

I would cut back, but never stop. I believe in the ad that says: a body in motion stays in motion. I like to maintain. I like consistency. I don’t like the stop-start.

This has been a stop-start. I am starting over. It is scary and daunting. I’m trying to use it to my advantage. I keep thinking of a text to my friend Melissa early on: I am using this time to start over. That kind of challenge is kind of exciting.

I am trying to reframe this as a fresh start. I feel like a newbie again. I am using the knowledge that I’ve gained from 10 years of iron-distance races to my very first race! So….here we go!

I CAN'T EVEN

My most negative thought has been I CAN’T EVEN. It started early after surgery and it still pops into my head at least 50 times a day.

It started with: I can’t even get off the porch if there’s a fire! That was probably the first time I was left alone and couldn’t get my walker up and down the steps by myself.

I can’t even walk Sunny.
I can’t even make dinner.
I can’t even dance at a PHISH SHOW.
I can’t even drive.
I can’t even carry the laundry basket across the house.

As I’ve been progressing with my activity, it’s turned into more of a training focus:
I can’t even walk around the block.
I can’t even pedal a full revolution on the bike.
I can’t even swim a lap.

The trailing thought to each of those is: so how in the world am I going to do an IRONMAN?

I am surprised when I hear it. Why am I being so negative? I get angry when I hear it. Why are you thinking that?! Can’t you control this thought? I get sad when I hear it: What if it’s true? What if this is the new normal? That first time I thought it sent me into a spiral. I was all alone. I felt trapped in the house. I think cried for 30 minutes and let all the can’t even thoughts flood my brain.

I am doing better - the spiral is not the black hole that it was that first week. I have learned to think (through the help of THIS AMAZING BOOK: I can’t do this YET. But, maybe I can do it in two weeks.

Each time a thought pops up, I think:

I can’t swim 25 yards, YET. But, my goal is to do it in two weeks.
I can’t pedal, YET. But, my goal is to do it in two weeks.

I even started putting it in my training calendar. If I don’t make the goal….I simply move it forward two weeks. I’ll let you know how that goes.

TTFN,

Beth

WEEK FIVE

Today marks five weeks! I can’t believe it’s already been five - and I can’t believe I’m only at five. [I think I say this every week.] I am excited about the little wins each day…..but, I also want to be so much further along. Dr. Boyd cleared me in the pool - light aerobics in the deep end and easy swims with no kicking. He also reminded me to stay off it more and ice more each day.

I admit it: I have been doing too much. Not only did I go to two concerts last week (where I stood for the majority of each show), but I’ve also been standing while teaching Pilates or Flow Motion. I am really good about doing my physical therapy exercises — I did my workout on a plane! — but, not as good as staying off my feet when I could be. I am on my feet a LOT.

My mantra has become RECOVERY IS NOW MY SPORT. And recovery includes icing and staying off my feet. I’ve even entered that workout into my Training Peaks calendar! At PT, we’ve added wall ball squats and leg presses and one leg balance exercises. And today my flexion score was 90 degrees! Linda says that on Friday we are going to do a full pedal revolution on the bike. I have my doubts, but I also know that she knows.

WEEK THREE

Three weeks out from surgery and things ARE progressing. I promise myself that every day. I am still working on my flexion and as of yesterday, I was at 68 degrees. In PT, I’m continuously adding on to my exercises. Yesterday, I moved from the NUSTEP to a real spin bike (more on that tomorrow), and I moved on to the gait drills that I did before surgery. I did about 8 steps of each with the parallel bars as a support.

This week, I also graduated from my walker to a cane. Best of all, I am able to drive. Even better than driving is that I am driving Honey’s fancy Benz! There’s a lot of freedom in both as I’m finally able to teach. I’m adding in a few appointments each week to get back to my full load.

Here’s what my PT looks like:

NUSTEP Pedal for 10’
SPIN BIKE for 5’
Knee Flexion off the Table for 5’
Calf Raises x 30
Band Extensions x 30
Leg Raises x 30
Supine Abduction x 30
Pillow Squeezes [Straight and Bent] x 30
Heel Slides x 30
Tens for 10’
Ice + Pump for 20’

CHECK OUT THE LINK to see my bike progress. Do I think I will be able to ride my bicycle by November? No. Will I? Yes

SHORT TERM SACRIFICE FOR LONG TERM GAIN

A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I was a Mary Kay consultant. I never had a pink Cadillac, but Mary Kay was good for my soul. Being a consultant taught me a lot of business and life lessons. One of my biggest take-aways was SHORT TERM SACRIFICE FOR LONG TERM GAIN.

Sacrificing one hour to call clients on a Saturday or a few hours to hold an appointment on a weeknight meant that I had reorder clients for many months to come. Sacrificing a week away in Dallas for a business conference, meant I had a year’s worth of education, affirmation and motivation to grow my business.

This mindset obviously set me up for IRONMAN training from the beginning. Flash forward from Mary Kay to MDOT and the lesson is obvious every Saturday morning. I get up at 4:00AM, pack my bike, pick-up my friend and drive 40 minutes to ride my bike 50/60/80 miles when I really could stay home and sit on the beach. The long term gain is that I can do an IRONMAN with confidence that I will finish the bike within the cut-off time and be fit to run.

This theme has been following me throughout my injury journey. Our upcoming book club selection is THE INFINITE GAME - which is more about a business philosophy - but applies to any life choice. Will this decision benefit the long run? Does it justify the ultimate cause? The timing of that book was perfect. I even found a quote in my calendar for May: WHAT YOU DO TODAY CAN IMPROVE ALL YOUR TOMORROWS.

I think I could have done an IRONMAN even with my ACL injury. In fact, I weighed the options of doing IM TULSA and even IM St. George and THEN doing surgery. But, the truth is, I could have caused more injury to my body training and racing on a torn ACL. My ultimate goal is not the one race this year - or even getting to KONA. My ultimate goal is to continue this sport (in all size races) for many years to come. Had I continued to train, I could have ruptured the ACL or mutilated my meniscus or damaged my hip or feet.

I need this surgery to extend my triathlon adventure. I am trusting the sacrifice the lack of training now for the ultimate race in the future. I have to trust the timing and the process and the outcome.

REHABILITATION REPORT WEEK 3

re·ha·bil·i·ta·tion

/ˌrē(h)əˌbiləˈtāSH(ə)n/

noun

noun: rehabilitation; plural noun: rehabilitations

1. the action of restoring someone to health or normal life through training and therapy after imprisonment, addiction, or illness.

This week has been a good one for rehabilitation. I am getting stronger every day. The biggest evidence of this is my knee flexion. At the start of the week, my PTs measured me at 44. On Wednesday, I measured a 52 and by Friday, after hanging my leg off a bed or table several times a day, I was at 60. And Linda will not give me anything more than I deserve. Her words. Not mine.

I’ve learned big lessons about the goniometer and because my extension is good, I can now focus on my flexion. I think that when I started after surgery, my bend was in the low 30s. I am aiming for 120 degrees.

I also graduated from my walker to a cane! I don’t know why this seems like such a big deal - but it added a lot of freedom. I still use my walker to carry things around the house, but the cane is a little more versatile.

I also had my second post-op appointment with Dr. Boyd. He said things were going very well. I told him I’d finally gotten up the nerve to look up the meniscus repair and wanted to know which type of procedure he used. Of course, he not only explained it, he pulled up a website that showed how he stitched together the meniscus. Freaking amazing. And….I was able to watch it while Kayla took out the stitches. Mainly because it was animated and not LIVE.

POST IRONMAN BLUES

My sister nailed it. I called her late yesterday afternoon and complained that it had been a sad day. I listed out all the whiny, annoying, tear-inducing-for-no-reason things that had happened throughout the day. Including:

• I had a bad dream and a muscle spasm that resulted in a sore knee.

• I didn’t want to do my rehab.

• I took several comments from Ace personally.

• I lost an athlete.

• I can’t even leave the porch by myself!

• I had to clean up this, that and those all by myself!

• I haven’t taken a shower in a week!

• Blah. Blah. Blah.

She reminded me that I had compared surgery day to an IRONMAN event and that all this was was POST IRONMAN BLUES! I forgot about those! I forgot that there’s often a let-down after a big event. Sometimes it is immediate and sometime it’s delayed.

The post IRONMAN blues are a well-documented phenomenon. Athletes in training spend every waking moment thinking about their race; training, planning, worrying, drawing up various scenarios in their head, and spending most of their disposable income on products that promise a faster time. This is completely natural and I’d be concerned if an athlete didn’t give much thought to their race. However, after we cross the finish line and the elation has subsided, many people end up with a large M-dot shaped hole in their life. 

This is often inevitable, but affects different people in different ways. Some people feel a bit empty for a few weeks, others feel destitute, comparing everything they do to the completion of their race. The latter often find it harder to enjoy the simple things in life. LIFE AFTER IRONMAN

I guess the same can be said for this surgery. I spent every waking moment thinking about pre-hab, worrying about outcomes and drawing up various scenarios in my head. The fear leading into it and the elation of a successful surgery have subsided. Now, I’m faced with literally three holes in my knee.

The article referenced above says to reconnect with friends you neglected during training, finish a project that you didn’t have time for during training and set your sights on another event. I did that. I reconnected with one of my newest athletes about her recent race. And, I started working on TRI ECHO - which is both a neglected project AND an upcoming event. I also asked for help getting to and from rehab on Wednesday. I washed my hair in the sink and I watched a campy-funny-silly movie.

I know that this is all part of the journey and I’m looking forward to what’s next.

SURGERY DAY PRE-OP PANIC

It has almost been a week since surgery and I am doing better than expected. My pain is lower than I thought it would be and my spirits are high. I have survived two rounds of my rehab and my post-op appointment was encouraging.

I do keep flashing back to the day of surgery and how freaking afraid I was. I wonder if I was as nervous at the start line of my first Ironman as I was last Wednesday. I doubt it. I had prepared and trained for that day in October of 2013 and could control most of the possibilities that could arise on the swimbikerun. But this was out of my hands. This surgery was a leap of faith. It was in the hands of a very skilled surgeon but there were a thousand what ifs.

I felt okay until I got into pre-op. They had to take my blood pressure three times. It was like 140/102, then 130/90 and then 140/95. Nurse Hannah asked Nurse Jane: which one do I record? I pretty sure they made one up. I got a mini lecture about getting my blood pressure checked when I got home. The words hypertensive and stroke didn’t do much to ease my mounting anxiety.

They did all they could to calm and soothe me. Warm blanket. Little jokes. Hair compliments. They turned off the overhead lights. When Nurse Jennifer came in to place my IV, we made small talk. I used my meditative breathing like my friend Amy has taught me. I looked the other way. I barely felt it. When Jennifer patted my arm and said, okay, all done. I paused for a breath and asked: May I have a tissue? She exclaimed: Oh, No! Did I hurt you?

No, of course not. I am just a scaredy cat. And suddenly, all the tears came. All the pent-up sadness and uncertainty and madness and blame and relief and grief seeped out. It felt good to release it all. I had a few epiphanies that day that I might share later, but, for now, I’ll just say that this: I do not love pent-up sadness and uncertainty and madness and blame and relief and grief. And all of that has everything to do with Ironman.

Once I was able to cry and once Neal came in from the waiting room to hold my hand, my blood pressure came down (a little). The anesthesiologist and the nurse anesthetist came in and then Dr. Boyd. And finally, I was wheeled away to the surgery ward.

WIPE OUT!

It was a slow fall. After a long day - the first day - of skiing in Aspen. For the first time all day, I fell down the mountain (instead of up) and when I did, my right leg landed under my left. And I knew. My right knee threw up. It felt like: BLIP. And I knew that something was wrong.

It was the perfect recipe for an injury. We had been up since 3AM (which was my normal 5am wake-up on the east coast). We’d been in boots since 8:00, on the slopes since 10:00. We’d been on three buses. We had a late champagne lunch. I’d danced at C9. It was the last run of the day. The ski patrol was all around. They’d been skiing all around me for the last mile in their red coats. Backwards. I remember Timmy. I know he meant well, but his encouragement felt like he was rushing me.

I was 200 yards from the bottom of the mountain and I knew better than to get on my skiis and within a few sideways steps, knew better than to walk down the mountain. I humbly asked for the snowmobile.

I was able to walk, but knew that my knee was already swelling.

That afternoon, determined not to break my one-mile-a-day run streak, I headed over to the condo fitness center and climbed on the treadmill. I ran 100 meters and walked 100 meters until I reached a mile. I think it took me almost 30 minutes.

That night I stayed in while everyone went to dinner. I iced my knee. And made scrambled eggs. In the process, I closed the freezer drawer on my thumb. I laid down in the kitchen and cried.

The day after, we woke at 3AM again. I cried more to Ace. I was embarrassed and angry and mad and sad. He told me to hold tight…that we’d find out more when we got home. It was sore and swollen, but I was able to walk and run on it.

I was able to enjoy the rest of the trip (without skiing) and continued my mile-a-day streak on the treadmill each day. I was hopeful that I had just bruised it and that even if it were an ACL or meniscus injury that it was low grade and I’d be able to train and race as usual. The waiting began.

Barbara + Ace + Me on the second bus of the day.

Halfway into my run. I was a mile in - but had not run a mile yet.

Seriously?