The Crusty Crunchy Clavicle
Ahh, yes, this is why you came today? This is why you paid your ticket? To shale your head in disbelief as I spin yet another tail of race-ending injury?
“Why?” you ask, “Don’t you ever learn Chris?”
I prefer to see it as the universe stepping in and restoring balance…
Right after we talked last time I was heading into the end of a 2nd big week of training. I ran a nice 5X3min hill workout on Friday, Rode two and a half hours on my bike Saturday in a cold rain, then knocked out 21 miles on the trail Sunday morning.
Badda Bing, Badda Bong, 6 weeks out from the event and I was absolutely positive I was going to crush it.
When I got my schedule from coach I was a bit surprised that he was loading in yet another big week. That would be 3 straight. I had one of those, ‘Are you sure?’ moments, before I remembered that my job is to shut up and do the work.
Monday was a core workout.
Tuesday was a 12 mile zone 2 run.
I planned to get up early and do that run in the trails behind my house. I rolled out of bed and had to wait until the sun came up enough for Ollie and I to see what we were doing. The days are getting shorter as we ride the big downhill rollercoaster into winter.
Because, at my current glacial base building pace 12 miles in the trails is a good 2 and a half hours.
I remember thinking about how fatigued my legs were and how I was probably going to fall a couple times. The trails behind my house are very technical. Lots of roots and rocks and single path.
But they are and always have been my happy place. Especially early in the morning. There is no blessing, no baptism that purifies the soul like a long trail run in the New England woods early on a cool morning.
Did I mention the leaves are starting to fall? Yes they fill the rails in and cover the hazards.
But that’s not why I fell. I fell because I was fatigued.
I was six and a half miles in, cruising down a long hill and I caught a toe. What does ‘caught a toe’ mean. Well if you have decent form you are landing on your forefoot and dragging that trailing foot forward for the next foot plant. You’re leaning forward a little bit. Like you’re falling and putting the feet down to keep up with that infinite fall.
The problem is when you are fatigued. When you drag that foot forward, you literally drag it. You don’t lift it high enough and it catches on something.
It wasn’t the leaf cover. It wasn’t the dog zig-zagging in front of me. It wasn’t even a root or a rock or a stick. It was just a random bump in the trail that caught my toe.
I knew I was going to fall as soon as I caught the toe. I had time to process the thought, ‘looks like I’m falling.’ And in this time, I believe Jeff Foxworthy used to call it an ‘ignosecond’ I decided I would tuck my shoulder and roll with the fall. This way I could bleed off the momentum with the roll.
Smarter than sticking out an arm and breaking your wrist, right? Smarter than slamming my chest into the trail and breaking a rib, right?
I’ll just roll, pop up and keep going.
I used to have this dog. This dog would jump up into the back of my truck. When the dog got old it didn’t realize that it couldn’t jump into the back of the truck. It would just run at the truck and impale itself on the gate.
You see, in the dog’s head it envisioned how it used to leap into the back of the truck. The dog forgot its legs could no longer jump like that.
So instead of the shoulder roll that I pictured in my head, I didn’t make it over and slammed the point of my shoulder into the ground with all the momentum of that hill.
After that, I did roll a little, but when I finally came to rest I knew it was probably broken.
I stayed there on my hands and knees in the beautiful dawn forest screaming in pain into the forest floor for a few moments.
I knew from the pain that the shoulder was badly hurt.
My circle of friends like to share x-rays of broken shoulders on social media. You’ve all seen those pictures. It’s a classic and common cycling injury. The one where they have all those pins lined up to hold the shoulder in place. That’s the picture I had in my mind.
I walked home.
Some people have asked me, “What did the dog do?” Well, the answer is not much. Ollie isn’t cursed with the empathy gene. He patiently waited for me to right myself and walked home with me.
I got myself to the doctor. I told them they probably want to take a picture. And sure enough, my clavicle was broken. But, good news it’s a clean, non-dislocated break. So it’s broken but the bones stayed in place so we didn’t need surgery or pins.
I went to the orthopedic the following day and the prognosis was, yup, you broke your clavicle. Let’s put your arm in a sling and come back for another picture in two weeks.
And that’s that. I can’t run. I can’t use the arm. And I’m stuck and useless. Hopefully the follow up appointment will show enough healing to let me start doing something.
I canceled my trip and my race. So no Mamba 100K on my birthday.
I’m really happy with the fitness I was able to accumulate in this cycle and the way I was able to reach my goal weight. And really the race was just a proxy to drive that behavior, so I’m calling it a win.
Not being able to move your dominant arm is a constraint. I’m discovering a plethora of daily, simple tasks that are now incredibly hard, including many of your basic sanitary functions, like taking a shower or putting on a shirt.
And there was/is the necessary emotional let down. As experienced as I am with this dance I still had to wade through the cycle of loss.
Now I get to se what the doctor says next week and how soon I can take off the leash.
I do have more time to work on my other goal of finishing that first book – so that’s what I’m doing.
It’s a strange and chaotic world my friends but I have my share of gifts and blessings and joy. I’m way ahead in the balance.
I ride this wave and move on to the next big thing.