The fire in your quads when the pace becomes close to unbearable and you fight for which part of you makes the choice as to slowing or pushing ahead, your head, your heart or your lungs.
We, all of us for whom a ride, run, swim is more than a casual Sunday pastime know the pains of searing lungs, flaming legs and roaring hearts. But these are pains we endure, if not welcome with enthusiasm born of the knowledge that the more we endure the better we become.
It brings with it, also a kind of narcissism. We are fit, and hard and part of a community which prides itself on pushing limits.
And so it was with all this in mind that I would train out on the road and would sometimes pass another athlete or ride with a fellow cyclist in some sort of distress from injury or illness. I would think to myself, "Wow, poor bastard. That must suck." Safe and secure in my armor forged by training and more training. We are so easily detached from what might be...
But at work last week, a day or so before being released from my sling a customer, mistakenly thinking he was funny asked one of my employees to, "Go tell the Gimp to come talk to me."
I was so incensed, so angry and indignant that I walked off the floor asking another manager to deal with the pigeon brained customer as I was in no state to do so properly.
Yeah, I was P-I-S-S-E-D!
A day or so later I was out of the sling and went out for my morning walk/run. On my worst race days I would end up running for 5 minutes and walking for 30 seconds. On this day I walked 5 minutes and ran staccato like for 10 or 15 seconds.
The scar tissue in my leg keeps me hopping/limping along while I have to keep my right arm close to my chest so as to minimize shoulder movement. I hop along keeping eyes down or on my GPS watch so as not to see the faces of any I pass or the cars shooting by as they stare at the gimp.
I am self conscious for the first time.
I am angry at the hurt, ashamed of my progress and the staggering impact of the pain that limits me to a degree I have never before accepted. I'm the guy who starts trouble on the ride by going off the front while the others talk about last night's dinner. I'm the guy who rushes to every town line sprint! I am the guy that pukes rather than stop no matter how tough the climb.
I am dangerously close to the abyss. And then perspective slaps me hard across my self indulgent face when I come across a book about Mark Zupan who said this;
“Most people fear pain. I've learned that not feeling pain is a much more frightening proposition than feeling it. In fact, there are times when I'm playing when I actually enjoy it.”
― Mark Zupan, GIMP: The Story Behind the Star of Murderball
Oh, he is a former Olympic level athlete who was paralyzed in an accident and went on to become a Murderball champion...
It is tough some days. Every day that I drive to work and pass a cache of cyclists on the road I feel the hole in my heart and miss it. Every single minute of it...
But my condition is temporary. And as when we train for Gran Fondo, Lake Placid, West Point or a swim around NY, I will endure this pain as well. And be stronger for it...
Eric J
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