Its been almost seven weeks since my ankle rolled and I heard that ever so troubling POP one mile into a race in St George, UTAH. Since then I have been practicing my patience during its snails pace recovery. A couple weeks ago my ankle was healed enough to be able to start cycling again.

This isn’t my first rodeo, let me tell you, but it sure feels like it is.

My first cycling adventure was around the local neighborhood and as I was climbing up I felt as though I would just tip over from lack of momentum- I was slow, my heart was beating right through my chest and I almost choked on my buff covering my face as I was gasping for air and it was a mere ant hill. Since that initial wake up call I’ve been finding my groove again, taking it step by step.

Last week I began riding on the San Gabriel Riverbed again. Stumbling onto the entrance of the trail I was flooded with memories of the exact trail from over 10 years ago with my dad. We rode a ton back then as he was training to cycle his first century race in Lake Tahoe. I can’t tell you if I really enjoyed cycling back then but what I can tell you is that I really enjoyed sharing the miles with my dad. Those many- many moons ago I didn’t know of Strava- did it even exsist? I didn’t have a data collector gps Suunto watch on my wrist. All I had was my dad to tell me “We are going straight” and when I’d ask for how long his reply would be “Until I say it’s time to turn around”. I had no idea where we were going but I was always up for the ride.

Since stumbling onto the riverbed last week, I somehow convinced my dad to dust off the bike and share a few miles with me. After years of begging him, all it took was a few weeks of COVID-19 shelter in place with my mom and sisters to jump at the opportunity to get out of the house, mask included of course. We’ve ridden twice together so far and I couldn’t be more proud of his enthusiasm to get back on the saddle even on days that I do not ride with him- 75 years young and all. A couple of decades since first riding together, we spun down the San Gabriel riverbed once again. On our first ride we visited my Abuelito and said hello from a safe distance. My Abuelito will be turning 100 years young in less than two months and I can’t wait to be able to safely celebrate his birthday sometime soon-ish.

Patience.

Oh how I’ve practice my patience. After almost 7 weeks (this Saturday) of being off my foot(literally not being able to walk the first two weeks), I’m ready to get back to running. With first spraining my ankle and then the safer at home quarantine, I’ve been going quite stir crazy. The first couple of weeks were spent feeling rather helpless, not being able to do a simple task like walking Juniper or walk normal period. The pity party didn’t last too long and I began to seek out things I could manage until my foot regained mobility. Unfortunately feet stink, literally and figuratively. It’ll take time to build again using strength, mobility and balance exercises. I’m thankful to even have a bike to ride! My road bike was my dad’s old bike he gave to me when I was 18, and I also have a somewhat new gravel bike. Cycling is expensive, no doubt, but thankful to have most of the gear necessary to just be outside. I struggle with comparing my running ability to my cycling strengths, or lack of. Something that’s been a constant challenge is learning to be kind to myself as I embark in a new sport, or re introducing a sport I have been inactive in for sometime.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Any tips, tricks or words of encouragement are always welcome.

S