achilles tendon injury

July 9, 2014

A Zen Lesson at the Pool

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I slid over to the YMCA for a quick 35 minute swim at lunch and when I’m getting out, who do I see? The Cyrus of East Nasty!

Most of the blame for my triathlon addiction goes to Jim, but Cyrus was a huge influence on my running. He has the kind of poise and confidence that could convince you to warm up for a half marathon with somersaults.

So, he’s climbing in the pool as I’m sitting on the edge and I cannot resist tapping his genius with a few questions about my sore Achilles.

“You training for something, Cyrus?,” I pried as a set up question.

“Yeah, I’m gonna do a little sprint,” he answered with no sign of weakness.

“That’s cool, you ready?,” I asked knowing he was.

“Well, I haven’t been on a bike since Ironman,” he replied to my disbelief.

(To my best recollection he did Ironman Louisville at least 3 years ago).

“Haven’t seen you out at East Nasty lately,” he scorned while pulling on his swim cap.

And the table was set!

“Yeah, I’ve had some problems with my Achilles.”

“Oh, yeah, seems like I fight that once a year. Always when I haven’t been running much, then go too far.”

Aha! That is exactly what I did, so I am inching closer to him on the edge of the pool in full suspense of his magical remedy.

“Uh, so, what do you do about it?,” I asked with a casual face, but a beating heart.

“Well, I do a little ice, and roll it out with my stick, but honestly . . . ”

And this is when I knew the good stuff was about to flow.

He tilted his head in kind of a way that says, “I hate to tell you this,” then calmly admitted, “I usually just run through it.”

And there it was, the answer I was hoping for. Well, kinda. I quickly told him my latest remedy for a nagging bout of Plantar Fasciitis was to “Refuse to acknowledge its existence.”

He shook his head in agreement, pulled down his goggles and said, “Every human being is the author of his own health or disease,” before disappearing under the chlorinated sky.

The whole conversation felt like a random meeting with my Zen Master. I stared at the ripple of his waves, then slowly climbed to my feet and went about my day.

July 7, 2014

What H.S. Basketball Taught Me About Ironman

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If you’ve ever watched a Duke game at Cameron Arena, you know what basketball meant to my high school. Beloit Memorial dominated Wisconsin by winning 7 state titles and our “gym” was one of the most electric sports atmospheres I have ever seen.

Opposing teams loved and hated playing at the 4th Street Arena. The crowd was rabid and there was never an empty seat. Parents, jocks, geeks, thugs, and rebels alike went bananas over basketball. It was the only game in a blue collar town . . . us against the world.

The PA Announcer gave an apathetic introduction of the visiting team, then the lights dimmed and he’d launch into a spirited rant, “And NOW, here are YOUR Beloit Purple Knights!” The crowd would erupt with pre-ordained chants and you couldn’t help but get goosebumps.

It was bone chilling stuff and I lived for it as a child. Players wore purple blazers on game days and I watched in awe as future college stars and NBA draft picks electrified Friday nights in my otherwise sleepy town.

I made the team as a junior, but never played. In fact, I never even dressed for games, until one week I had a tremendous stretch of practice and elevated my status to 7th man going into a showdown with conference powerhouse, Madison Lafolette.

I was literally shaking when I put on that uniform before the game. I was uncontrollably jacked to get on that floor.

We stood in the tunnel waiting for the sophomore game to end and one of the seniors said he wanted me to lead them out. That gesture gives me chills till this day.

When the band (which is still kicking ass) launched into Chicago’s 25 or 6 to 4, it was our cue to run out, circle the entire court, then go into our layup line. The house was packed, and I was soaring.

My long hair flopped on my warm-up collar and I did my best not get distracted by the faces in the crowd. It was surreal. A freak show and I led the pack.

Like a open water swimmer, I came around the last buoy and sighted the goal. I was so pumped I contemplated throwing down the first dunk of my life. Thankfully I thought better of it, but exploded off the hardwood with more force than I’d ever generated in my life. That’s when it happened.

I landed with a thud and was suddenly limping toward the back of the rebound line. The ultimate high was replaced by a dark sorrow when I realized I’d blown my Achilles.

I fought through warmups and my coach obviously didn’t notice because after our pre-game huddle he said, “Mikey, I want you to sit here right next to me.”

Talk about an embarrassing moment. He was really going to play me!

I confessed my injury, then slid to the end of the bench to watch the cheerleaders. It was the first and last time I wore the purple blazer for Beloit Memorial High.

The Epilogue

Now, what seems like a million years later, I am once again nursing my left Achilles. I’m not sure how I healed it back then, but I remember it being a major pain in the ass.

I’m pretty sure there’s no shortcut and rest is the only answer, but I can’t afford to rest right now. I have a little thing called Ironman Louisville hanging out there in 47 days.

Three things are about to happen:

1. A bump in swimming and low intensity biking.

2. Lots of rolling pin/foam roller and massage.

3. An onslaught of fresh juice that includes bell peppers and cucumbers.

The latter is courtesy of the Juiceman, Jay Kordich, who claims peppers and cucumbers are loaded with silicone which is good for lubricating tendons.

I’m obviously concerned, but think I can manage this problem if I play it smart. I pushed too far on my run yesterday because I was being stupid and wanting to prove to myself I could finish before I started.

Unlike that one and done basketball game, I have a second chance at Ironman and my high school lesson reminds me to be patient. Ease into the day and don’t blow it all on the first layup.

July 3, 2014

My Wild Nightlife These Days

Icing Ankles — Yes, I know I need to shave.

So, last night I went wild with a Seinfeld rerun, ice, and a steak. Nuts, I tell ya. It was the one where George pulled a pre-emptive break up with his girlfriend. What’s really crazy is, I pay $180/month for cable and that’s about the only thing I watch. I understand that is not logical, but not much in my life is these days.

Legs feel good. Feet and ankles, not so much. I can honestly say this is my biggest concern right now. A small tweak in my Achilles, and a lingering heel pain. I’m getting more optimistic, but I need to figure this out.

April 10, 2013

Dejected. Reflected. Redirected.

The following is another guest post from our inspiring coach, Robbie Bruce. I am continually amazed by his passion, and even more impressed with how he re-directs fires that appear to burn out of control.

Dejected. Reflected. Redirected.

A few of you may be aware that I have been suffering from a severe case of Achilles tendinitis over the past 2 weeks. The same kind that sidelined me from running in 2011 for almost 3 months. So, rewind almost 2 weeks ago. I had the best 2 bike and run workouts of my life with New Orleans 70.3 just over 3 weeks away. I proved to myself that the fitness I knew I needed to accomplish my goals was there. In the bank. I woke up Saturday morning. Legs and arms trashed from 4,000 yds, 70 hard bike miles and 10 hard miles of running in a 24 hour span. I was staring at a 4 hour ride, yet, I was pumped for it. Which spoke volumes to me about where my mind was. I knew as soon as the ride started the cards the triathlon gods were about to deal me. I barely made it an hour because the pain was over a 10. I sat there for maybe over an hour….. thinking “This cant be. Im here. Im ready. Why? Why now?” Took Sunday and Monday off. Hit up PT on Tuesday for some therapy. No running or biking for the week. I was cleared to ride this past Mon/Tue and my swim has improved drastically since its all I was able to do for 9 days. Today was affectionately named DDay. I got to run. The chance to run. Cleared to run. Its 80 and sunny out. Who wouldn’t wanna run. New Orleans in next weekend and if I could even run pain free and slow I was in. Doing it. Parked my truck. Said a little prayer to the running and triathlon gods and took off. 1-2-3-4 steps,,,, Oh shit I’m back. Here I come. 6-7-8… That didn’t feel right…..14-15-16….. walking. Pain at an 11…… Water bottle hurled maybe 500ft…… Done. Walking back to my truck. Head down. Defeated….. What now? Where too? Sat in my truck. Keys not even in the ignition for air. Text a few close friends about my failed attempt and sat. I will say. I am SO VERY lucky to have such amazing friends who are so supportive and positive when all I see is failure, discontent, with no resolution in sight. The theme of responses was “Regroup. Re plan. You got this.” I hit the shower at the YMCA.. Oddly enough alot of my best thinking and thoughts are in the shower. (no comments please :)), but I swear if life were one big shower Id be a philosopher or author or something. Anyway…. my shower turned into an almost 25 minute prunefest of thoughts and planning. Right forearm over the top of my head as my forehead was pressed against the tile. I felt a lot like I did after I lost the Football State Championships my senior year. You just let the water pour over you. Close your eyes and just think back…… I formulated a plan. Got my thoughts together. Mind still racing as I got dressed. Wondering how and what do do? I put my shirt on, looked down……… Ha. It said, “ENDURE.” Made me smile. That’s it. Just “endure.” See it through. You got this. Then I thought back to when I was at Ironman Louisville. Totally dejected on the bike after feeling ill and sat out on the bike. I remember the picture Season took of me. :attached below:: it SCREAMED DEJECTION. AND DEFEAT. Then I remember what happened after. I just decided to endure it. Just endure it and see it through. A few months later after just deciding to endure I had my best race ever at Augusta. Walking downstairs to get to my truck. I passed an elderly lady struggling to just make it up the stairs and a younger gentleman in a wheelchair coming into the gym……. What was I doing with my head down. It could be so much worse. So much worse. Then I got ill and pissed. I usually do that when I get really motivated. In a “this wont stop me way.” The triathlon god Zeus maybe trying to shut me down. Deject me. Discourage me. He wants a war. Hes got one. I’m pretty sure a battle from Poseidon (Ποσειδῶν, Poseidōn)(who I will all as myself. In no God but he suited me best) God of the sea, rivers, floods, droughts, earthquakes, and the creator of horses; known as the “Earth Shaker”.The horse and the dolphin are sacred to him. Right now Zeus is reigning over on of my sports. But hes in for a battle. My battle plan is the following:

– I will swim for as long and as hard as possible every week. I will get so fast. You will not even get close to catching my feet. I will gain time.

– I will bike as long and as much as I need to. The bike is my weakest so I will focus on my strength and my weakness during this undetermined down time. I will get better. I will get faster.

– I will drop more weight. I am down 10 lbs in the last 3.5 weeks. I will cut more which will make me a faster and more efficient runner when I am finally able to run. It will make me faster all around.

– I will hit the StairMaster (if cleared) as much as I can. In pants and a hoodie. Ill get mentally stronger, physically stronger, and lighter. Ill be meaner too.

– Ill do as much therapy that is required. Ill have needles shoved in me. Ill do endless clam shell exercises till I start spitting out pearls like a damn sprinkler.

– The times few hours I might miss hanging with my little man training, Ill use to take him out with me on my new paddle board. Enjoy more time with him. Which makes everyone better all around.

– I’m not going to plan on “racing” until June (Kansas 70.3) or July (Munice 70.3). I don’t wanna focus on short term possibilities but instead long term realistic goals. A miracle could happen and I might toe the line at NOLA but the same possibility looms that I may miss Gulf Coast. I’m OK with that. Because no matter when I come back. Im coming back with a mother@#*&$ng vengeance.

– In the mean time. When Im not biking or on the StairMaster. Ill be focused on this:

http://www.panamericanmasters2013.org/. I swimming the best in FOREVER. I have time to focus on it and I am familiar with the course. This Tennessee boy is headed down south to play with some of the best.

That’s it. Getting better is always a fluid situation. I could recover much earlier or a lot later. Who knows. I however do know that in the mean time. I still have goals. I will still be working and training hard. I will still be focused and when I come back 100%. Move out of the way. So if you see me don’t tell me “I’m sorry your hurt.” I’m not hurt. Ive redirected. Don’t pitty me bc I’m not going to pitty me. Ive got this. So the question is……. For all of you 100% healthy people…….. Whats your plan? Are you focused? Are you giving it 100%? If not. Start now because before you know it. The chance to give it may be stripped away from you. Then what?