I spent the first two weeks in Michigan recovering from the crash. My shoulder is still pretty buggered up and I start each night hooked up to one of the therapy machines used on the horses. Unorthodox but effective. It's not fully healed but definitely going in the right direction.
|I guess the camera needed more coffee too!|
I had to replace my front derailleur and my helmet from the crash. Both items were replaced with purchases from the coolest local bike shop in Michigan, Einstein Cycles, and the helmet was a much nicer one that it's dented predecessor. Of course the derailleur is a Dura-Ace because that is what Seabiscuit sports all the way around.
I also picked up a new set of running shoes since both of my current pairs have more than a years worth of mileage (not so bad when you consider the amount of time spent injured) on them. They are not shot but I wanted to try something lower profile so I wanted to add it to the rotation while these are still in good working order. No reason to set myself up for injury by waiting until the current shoes are destroyed and having to abruptly change.
Today, I brought the bike into Einstein's and dropped it off. I had found an inexpensive (ahem) power meter used and it was arriving today (YAY!). While I was there, I asked them to replace my cleats since they were totally destroyed and barely held the pedal. They had gotten dangerous. In the process, we discovered a crack running across the bottom of the shoe. They told me to replace the shoes, though I could use them until my size was delivered. Fine, do that. Then he picked up the other shoe to remove the cleat....
|I believe this qualifies as EPIC!|
Um, yeah. Everyone got a good laugh out of the fact that a "stiffness index" of 8 was not enough for me. DW thought it was pretty sweet that I managed to crack my shoes. He said that if I wouldn't put out so much power, the shoes would last longer. I am thinking he was being sarcastic. Needless to say, I was not allowed to buy cheap shoes!! Talk about things adding up!
Emotionally, I have really been all over the map. I hadn't mentioned it here because I felt a little awkward but I have been dating someone since I returned from Florida at the end of the winter. I broke things off Friday night. WHY? In part, because of triathlon. This truly deserves its own post and it will get it very soon. I am still a little unsure of myself here but to sum it up, triathlon had caused friction in the relationship. I chose triathlon.
The reason runs deep and dark and it is very complicated. I believed I was starting to see some red flags and chose to avoid them rather than investigate further. I have posted about the physical side of some of my struggles (digestive issues and the like) but I have not posted a big part of the picture up until now. I have a lot of trauma in my past, some of it centered around very toxic relationships. The healing process has been long, difficult, and confusing, but I believe I have come out the other side healthier, stronger, more free than I ever thought possible. The choice to pursue triathlon was a part of this process.
It was doing something for myself, at first, just for fun. As I delved deeper, the training itself became a vehicle for healing as it demanded a level of self-care, belief, strength, and confidence. It also gave as it demanded, rewarding me with the very thing I had to give in order to succeed. I remember the day that DW told me that I either learned to do these things or I could kiss triathlon goodbye. It was the slap in the face I needed. I had to take the healing to the next level. Those of you who have been reading this blog for a long time have been along for that ride, whether I shared it or not. I evolved.
In this relationship, I don't have any idea if I made the right choice with regards to the man. I know I made the right choice with regards to putting myself, my health, my happiness at the top of the priority list and pushing away someone who might jeopardize those things. It was a moment of strength I did not have the last time around. That is due, in large part, to the changes that training has brought about in me.
I am not afraid of being alone. I am strong enough.
Still, something like this is hard. I am not sure which hurt more: losing him or losing the possibility he represented. While I worked on my first horse, I thought about it. When I moved my ladder to do his forelock, I finally felt it all. I sat down on my ladder and cried. Bear (who a few short years ago was pretty traumatized himself. I spent a lot of long, slow hours working with him so that he would stand to be braided) dropped his head into my lap. I laid my forehead on his and cried my eyes out into his forelock. He never moved a muscle until I was done. I was so grateful to have a friend that night.
|Bear, the recipient of extra cookies on Saturday.|
I went for my long run today. It was good. It was fast. I felt free.