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Hoping for Better but at Least Getting to Share

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Okay, so there’s definitely disappointment when the sun is out, the view is spectacular and I didn’t ride. The last couple of days have been rough. Leaving San Francisco I couldn’t believe how bad I felt. My derailleur had an issue that made every crank at least fifty percent more difficult. When the mechanic fixed it, I shivered in the fog in Daly City. The temperature dropped at least twenty degrees exiting the tunnel down to the beach. There’s a chance that I might have a bug.

The next day I felt more like myself, though not completely. Riding through Monterey I heard one seal bark as I dodged people on the bike path. Seventeen-mile drive brought us through the grand landscape with Pebble Beach to our left and the rocky Pacific to the right. Despite the coastal scene I felt like I was in Central Park. The hills rolled instead of climbed and there was always someone just ahead, a rabbit to chase assuming that made me a greyhound.

I grunted up the hills knowing that I’d get paid back with a downhill. I like knowing that I will get paid back. Sure what goes up must come down, but rolling hills have a far greater payoff because I maintain momentum. The extreme climb and plummet of the steep hills make it seem that there is no downhill just climbing. Sometimes hard work like grunting through those last few miles pushes me through my malaise, but when I got out of the shower there was a pink mark on my towel where I’d sat. I had torn the skin from underneath my right ischial tuberosity or the bones that I sit on. When I got into bed I felt around on my right butt check since I sit more on my right side than my left. Optimism darkened to dismay when I touched a sticky part, obviously a fresh abrasion. These abrasions scare me because I’ve had friends who’ve had to have surgery from pressure sores and lie on their stomachs for months to let it heal.

The abrasion did, however, explain why my legs were jumping. My stomach has hurt, but it often hurts. My legs jumping indicated a potentially bigger problem. With some Duoderm and a little luck I’ll be able to ride tomorrow—hopefully avoiding the disappointment of arriving at the hotel and not having that vacant stare and fuzzy feeling earned over so many miles. I really enjoy this group from the Challenged Athletes Foundation and I missed sharing that moment with them yesterday.

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