I’m only hoping it’s over now. I won’t bore you with the details about my
cute kid keeping me awake between 1 and 3 a.m. (and then again later in the
morning) or the stuff about my wife graduating college (huzzah!), but I will
bore you with the athletic-related stuff. This is a little long, so if you
don’t want to finish reading it, I’ll understand. Just drop by the blog
again in a few days–I’m sure I’ll have something else up.
Four summers (and almost five years) ago, about five minutes into a soccer
game with a bunch of people I hardly knew, some random player cut in front
of me and stepped on my foot. Somehow, with my foot still stuck to the
ground by this guy’s heel, I managed to fall forward almost flat on the
ground and twist my ankle in a way that ankles don’t normally twist. Now,
I’d sprained my ankle many many times before, but this was the mother of all
sprains. I quickly let out a very loud cuss word (which, I’d imagine didn’t
leave a very good impression on the conservative group with whom I was
playing soccer), and then commenced writhing on the ground clutching my leg.
When I got up from that injury and tried to hobble to my car, I found that I
couldn’t put any weight on my twisted ankle, so I hopped instead of
hobbling. I then learned how to drive a car with my left foot so I could hop
into the emergency room. The ultimate diagnosis: I’d torn ligaments in my
ankle but avoided damaging the bones. And yes, this was almost exactly a
month after I’d had my once-broken jaw unwired.
Odd, though it may sound, that injury is at least partially responsible for
me taking up cycling. It (and the jaw thing, which happened during a
football game) helped me realize that team sports were no longer for me.
And I should’ve remembered that on Saturday when my in-laws invited me to
join them for a pickup soccer game on the field right next to the one where
I’d creamed my ankle all those years ago. It’s funny how selective our
memories can be at times, eh?
So I went to play soccer, knowing fully that even if I didn’t get injured
I’d at least be sore for a few days. After about an hour of playing, half of
my younger in-laws had been hurt in one way or another and were occupying
themselves with different things on the sides of the field, so I offered up
an exit for everyone: "Do we have enough people hurt to call it a game yet?"
But the answer was, "No." So we played on.
Finally, after about two hours of play time, I went after the ball near my
15-year-old brother in law and planted my foot as the two of us came
crashing to the ground. I immediately felt some shooting pain in the right
side of my foot and the left side of my somewhat rusty ankle. Ouch. No
writhing this time, though, no cussing either, and, thank heaven, I could
even still walk on it. It’s still sore now, but after a few icing sessions
(and some time at the cold pool in Green Canyon), there are no signs of
swelling, and a lot less pain. On the flip side, my soccer muscles are
But yeah, I’m counting that as my final running workout before the
triathlon. I didn’t know it, but my final swim workout was probably last
week as well since the pool has since closed for the summer. I hope I still
remember how to swim by Saturday.
The funny thing is that my bike workouts may be temporarily suspended as
well. Last night, as I was riding home from work on my mountain bike, I
watched the wind blow a canoe trailer around the parking lot at the outdoor
rental place. I just about got tossed off my bike a few times too, so I was
a little curious about the weather report. Yesterday’s weather, I
discovered, included 37 mph winds gusting up to 53 mph, which is more than
enough to convince me to do my bike training indoors.