Sweat Box.

Last night I rearranged the piles in the trainer dungeon. I booted up Zwift and did the three hours worth of required upgrades that have been released since I stopped using it back in the spring. I dragged my heavy LeMond Revolution trainer back in from the car, where it had been pre-positioned in anticipation for the Tour of Anchorage. Actually, I never took it out after the Tour of Fairbanks. This proved to be a bad idea, so as soon as I was finished preparing the dungeon I had to crawl into bed with my best buddies, Percocet and Motrin.

 
This morning I got up early and got kitted up. It quickly became clear that maybe I didn't really need both straps of my bib shorts, because the left one was causing me to whimper a bit. It usually takes me a few days to get my routine for the trainer, so that everything flows efficiently. The placement of various things and the order in which I do tasks is just different when I'm stuck in the dungeon, so it took me a while to get ready. There might have also been some dread involved, because this was the moment of truth- can I turn the pedals over at all without causing significant pain?
 
The first move almost ended the workout for me. I wasn't careful climbing onto the saddle and twisted my body in a way that put pressure on the collarbone. As I curled up from the shock, I compounded it by grabbing for support with my left hand. Minutes later, when the pain faded, I started cranking away slowly.
 
Can I handle this? OK, push it a little more.
 
Can I sustain that? OK, see how long you can do it for.
 
Zwift is hard for me without sprints or other out-of-the-saddle efforts, but I knew what they would bring. I knew I could beat the times on the leaderboard, earning the prestigious/temporary/meaningless green jersey with a moderate effort. I didn't go for it. I'd rather avoid poking my clavicle through my skin.
 
When the hour was up, I felt pretty good (given the circumstances). A solid workout that left me no worse off than when I started.
 
Next I went to the doctor, who did some range-of-motion tests that had me nauseous and sweating. So much for feeling good.
 
I can ride the trainer and not die, and that's about the most positive news I could have hoped for. Little by little, I'll try to build up the intensity and maintain what I've worked so hard for the last few weeks. Hopefully I'll be off the pain meds soon. Marginal gains.
 
The first thing I need to get is a bigger fan, though. The cooling requirements in March are much different than those of July. I think I lost three gallons of water in that hour.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sprint Intervals.

Nostalgia.

Uniform Suckiness.