Category: Rest and Recovery

On the road trip from Austin, TX to Borrego Springs, CA this year for the 12 Hour World Time Trial Championship, I found myself struggling with many conflicting thoughts and emotions.

I’d had a lot of time with my thoughts the past few months, since fracturing my pelvis the first weekend in August. Before the accident, we a full block of adventure right around the corner: Road-Tripping it up to Colorado for the CO Classic with Swisse Femme Equipe, then heading over to VT for the Race to the Top of VT and the Green Mountain Stage Race, then swinging through MD and VA to visit both our families before racing the Pisgah Monster Cross Challenge along the Blue Ridge Parkway in the Pisgah National Forest.

I’d been looking forward to that trip all year. My coach and I had been carefully managing my training and racing efforts in order to peak me for this late season block of racing, and I can honestly say that my fitness was at the highest point it’s ever been. Then “it” happened. A split second in the sprint finish of a weekly Crit that I race every single week – things went sideways in front of me, I went over my handlebars, and BOOM. Fractured Pelvis. Instant change of plans. No more CO. No more VT. Not visit to Mom and Dad. No shredding gravel along the Blue Ridge Parkway. All of that planning, carefully honed fitness and “peaking”. Out. The. Window. In the blink of an eye. On top of that, I’d really hoped to compete in the Zwift Academy again this year, and maybe even make it to the finals (after juuust barely missing them last year!), but I certainly wouldn’t be smashing trainer workouts out of the park, setting a new FTP, or TTing off the front of virtual races with a busted hip.

Those that know me personally can tell you – I’m about as Type A as they get. I categorize myself as Type A+. I am a planner. I LOVE planning. I do not like “rolling with the punches“, “flying by the seat of my pants“, “winging it” or “going with the flow“. . . .these things just don’t compute for me and my Type A, analytical brain. Sometimes life has a way of forcing you into the most uncomfortable places in order to initiate growth though. Maybe not growth as an athlete, but growth as a human being. More Patience. More Tolerance for the unknown and unpredictable. Learning how to slow down, enjoy living in the moment, and just rolling with the punches and going with the flow.

After fracturing my hip, I was non weight-bearing for a full 6 weeks. No exercise of any kind allowed, because my fracture extended from my illiac crest to just shy of my hip socket, and if I “pushed it”, the fracture could extend into the socket, causing displacement, and requiring surgery to correct. . .so you’d better believe that I followed Dr’s Orders 1,000%, and then some.

It was NOT easy though. Mentally, I felt like a basket case. Take someone that is fiercely independent, consistently getting 2+ hours of endorphins through training EVERY SINGLE DAY, and rip that right out from under them. Put them flat in a bed, unable to so much as sit up without assistance for a full week. . . needing assistance to drag a useless leg via walker 10 steps to the bathroom – needing assistance to sit down and then stand back up, and then needing assistance to get back into bed. That lasted for a week. . .but even once I was somewhat “self-sufficient” again, I had to keep ALL weight off my left leg, which meant dragging that stupid walker, and then after a while crutches, around with me EVERYWHERE. I couldn’t just run to the kitchen to grab a glass of water really quick between meetings. It was a 5 minute pain-filled excursion every time I stood up to do anything.

Then, when I started to feel better – still dependent on crutches and non-weight bearing, it got even worse. . .every fiber of my being craved exercise and endorphins. I was eating ~2,000 calories of nutrient dense food a day even because I knew this was necessary in order to fuel the healing that was taking place inside my body. . but I watched as my hips, midsection and thighs grew in circumference and got “soft”, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Cutting calories was not an option, because this would delay healing.

Complicating matters, I struggle with clinical depression and anxiety, and in my day-to-day life, I have it 100% under control through exercise, clean eating, and medication. . .I 100% forget it even exists and is a non-issue 99% of the time in “normal” life. But again – rip away my exercise and endorphins, and you’ve pulled 50% of my comping mechanisms out from under me. . add to that the weight gain and quickly diminishing fitness. . . . let’s just say that I was not a happy camper, and not fun to live with at all during this 6 week period.

AS SOON AS I was cleared to be weight bearing and get back on my bike though, I rolled up my sleeves and, working with Phil & Blaze at The Training Room, and my coach, Matt Seagrave, we did everything humanly possible to remedy the atrophy, strengthen my hip, and bring my fitness back up as much as possible in the 5 weeks that remained before the WTTC.

The first 4 weeks back on the bike were excruciatingly painful, from a patience perspective more than anything. I began to realize just how much fitness I’d lost. . . . I could barely pedal my bike without my HR skyrocketing and remaining pegged. . . my left leg quad was ~1 inch smaller in circumference than my right, and my L/R power output was 40%/60%. I had a LOT of work to do, but the caveat was that I couldn’t rush it without setting myself back to square one. It was so very hard for me to get on my trainer and just spin super easy for an hour per day. SO HARD. Harder than any max effort intervals or FTP test I’ve ever done.

My first outdoor ride with teammate Chelsea ended with me seated with my Slurpee outside of a 7-11, and entirely unable to stand up! This is friendship, people! Sacrificing your ride plans to ride at a sloth’s pace with your broken friend on her first ride outside in 7 weeks, and then breaking out your phone to film paparazzi-style  the joyous laughter at the end of the ride. . . despite my inability to return to standing. . . that was the best ride I’d had all year!

Help! I’ve Fallen, and I can’t get up! <– Click this link for Video to go w/ that soundbite.

For 4 weeks after being allowed to resume weight bearing, I wasn’t allowed to ride more than 1 hour at a time because my left leg would fatigue quickly, and as it fatigued, I’d rely more and more on my right leg, reinforcing poor form and imbalance. I had to get in more than 1 hour a day though. . .my fitness was IN THE TOILET (see pic below), and I had to get some volume back in order to start bringing my fitness back. This meant DAILY 2-a-days. . . getting up at 5am to knock out an hour before work. Working my 9-10 hours. Forcing myself to take an hour lunch break 3 x per week to go to The Training Room for PT. Getting off work, and knocking out another hour. Getting off the trainer, and doing 30 minutes of at home PT stretches. I was exhausted. I was grateful to be getting a regular dose of endorphins again, but spinning super easy on a trainer & doing 40 minutes of 1 leg drills a day is NOT exactly my idea of fun on my bike. I began to dread my training sessions. I didn’t want to get up at the crack of dawn to sit on a bike and spin easy. I didn’t want to get back on the damn trainer at 7pm after a long-ass, exhausting day of work and spin easy again. I wanted to WORK & what I was doing did not feel like work. But I stuck with “the plan” because I was DETERMINED to line up to race on October 27th.

On October 6th. . . 21 days before I’d be lining up to race a 12 Hour World Championship TT, I was FINALLY cleared to ride 2.5 hours in a single shot on my bike. It was glorious!! Granted, my fitness still sucked, and I couldn’t hold sh*t for power – but that 2.5 hours outside on my bike did my mind and heart a world of good, and reminded me how much I loved to train and ride.

The next week (Oct 8 – 14), we gradually increased my volume and intensity to see how my body responded. To my delight, my power #s started to come back up, while my avg HR came down. Still nowhere remotely close to my “peak”, but I started to actually believe that I might be able to “race” the full 12 hours! At this point, it was still painful to walk, so I was still using crutches to get around, but it didn’t hurt to ride my bike, so my saddle was my happy place, and I went from dreading those dang trainer workouts to looking forward to my daily training rides again 🙂

The next week, we left TX for the 2 day road trip to CA on Thursday. We laid over in Las Cruces Thursday evening, and I had an “easy 1 hour spin @ 160W” on my trainer. I set it up next to the van in the parking lot – the weather was beautiful – breezy and ~55 degrees. I jumped on my bike and started to pedal, but my legs were full of crap! I thought surely I must have a brake rubbing. . . . jumped off the bike and checked. . nope! WTH?!? Get back on. Start pedaling again. 120W and I’m sweating. Suck it up, take it up to 160W but I swear it feels like I’m pushing 200+. After just a few minutes, I’m sweating buckets – literally dripping from every sweat gland in my body. . and my HR is MUCH higher than it should be for 160W. By the time I finished the hour, I felt like I’d ridden 50+ miles at tempo. And the monkeys in my head started going nuts. . . .all of the doubts came rushing back in. What was I thinking? Why was I dragging Jamie all the way out to CA for this race when my body clearly wasn’t ready? Was I even going to be able to ride 6 hours? I went to bed discouraged with a heavy heart and legs.

Friday the 19th we drove from Las Cruces, NM to Borrego Springs, CA. After clearing Border Patrol about 45 minutes outside of BS, we turned onto the familiar road that led us into town. I was off work at this point in the afternoon, sitting in the passenger seat, gazing out the window, and remembering the thoughts/feelings/emotions swirling through my head a year earlier.

As we had descended into BS in 2017, I was full of desire, hope, optimism, and dreams. Earlier in the year I’d won my first National TT Championship (Master’s Nats). I’d gone on to win the TX State W P12 and Age Group Road Race Championships, and had just found out that I’d been selected as a Semi-Finalist for the 2017 Zwift Academy. My fitness was at an all-time high, and the world was my oyster. I had visions of winning the 12 Hour World TT Championship, and then being whisked off to Spain for Training Camp with Canyon/SRAM, and racing my way through Europe in 2018 dancing through my head.

In contrast, as we descended into Borrego Springs this year, I was fighting back feelings of insufficiency and fear. I was the defending 12 Hour World Champion, and wanted nothing more than to defend my title, and prove to myself that I could come back yet again, but the realist in me knew how unlikely winning the World Championship this year would be. I believed it was possible, but had hundreds of doubts swarming around me like flies that I had to keep swatting away. I didn’t want to let myself down. I didn’t want to let my coach down, who had worked so hard alongside of me to rebuild my fitness. I didn’t want to let my husband down, who had been SO supportive through yet another setback, and put up with my horrible mood swings resulting from lack of endorphins, and was driving me the 18 hours each way to defend my title. Friends and Family had been texting, calling, and posting on FB for weeks to reassure me that I could do this. . . but I had this sinking feeling that I was about to disappoint everyone.

We finally arrived at our AirBnb, unpacked, and Jamie and I went for a #BikeDate. I finally felt the blanket of pressure and fear start to lift. The weather was beautiful. I was here in this perfect place with my husband and our bikes, and I didn’t have to work for the entire week. I could ride my bike as much as I wanted. My hip was healed enough that I could walk without crutches *almost* pain free. My legs felt SO much better than they had the night before on the trainer in Las Cruces. It was going to be okay. Blue Skies, Sunshine, Wind in my hair, and a bike date w/ my hubby was all I needed. #Nevernotsmiling, #happyhappyhappy, Optimistic Little Miss Sunshine was back!

The week of Oct 22nd, I did most of my training rides on the TT course – getting to know wind direction, false flat sections, etc. I also got the chance to ride up Montezuma (The Glass Elevator) and Yaqui Pass while I was out there and loved EVERY SINGLE MINUTE of those breathtaking rides! Jamie and I went on several bike dates, and also made it out to The Spandex Stampede in Temecula and had fun hanging out w/ Tadd and Brett of Atom Composites for the afternoon, and learning more about the CA Gravel Scene!

Maddy, a friend that I guest rode w/ JL Velo at Redlands with, came up with a friend Thursday night, and we had a blast hanging out and catching up on Friday.

Friday afternoon rolled around, and I was relieved to feel a sense of peace about the race the next day. While I can’t lie and say that I didn’t want to win (I mean, c’mon. . it’s a bike race!), I didn’t feel that sense of dread or pressure that I’d felt as we’d driven into town the week before. I was thankful for the simple fact that I was able-bodied enough to be in CA, riding my bike up mountains, and lining up to race a 12 Hour TT just 12 short weeks after breaking my friggin hip! LOL

And you know what? My coach & I had done a pretty dang good job of ramping my fitness back up given the limited amount of time that we had to work with, and the many injury-related restrictions that he had to work around. . . so I was going to go out there and give it everything I had, and wherever that placed me at the end of the day, I knew i’d walk away content, having given it 100% of what my body had to give it.

So how did the race go? Well, my friends, family, and anyone that follows me on FB and IG already have the cliff notes version, but the full race report is coming tomorrow. Stay Tuned!