I get knocked down.....but I get up again

....you ain't never gonna keep me down. Or so the song went (if I remember correctly from my post-rugby match drinking days)

And post-rugby match is exactly the way my body has felt since I face planted on Wednesday 😢

It's funny, what I love about writing these blogs is that I'm planning them in my mind all week (that can be a great distraction during long training sessions). But by Wednesday I was beginning to worry it would be a bit of a boring week, just a review of all the training sessions I was ticking off as planned. Until about 8am that is.

 I'd ridden that morning with the Trifitness crew. A really solid ride back into strong headwind, made harder by the indoor 2hr session I'd done in a 35C tent on Tuesday as part of the sodium study I'm involved with. 

I was absolutely frozen when I finished the ride - the wind had been bitterly cold. I stood by our heater for a few minutes, but decided I'd better just get my 30min run off the bike done, and then I could warm up.

The face plant

My feet were frozen, and I couldn't really feel them as I ran. I couldn't have been any more than about 4 min into the run, when a paving stone jumped up out of the ground and tripped me!!! I went down very very hard. Hit my hands and knees first, but I guess the rugby instincts kicked in and I immediately rolled on my right shoulder. I sat on the footpath, a little stunned. Checked my knee was ok, and there didn't seem to be any major damage. I walked a few steps, started jogging, and thought I must be OK. Finished the run, but felt what seemed like a little stitch in my right chest area, towards the end. I was in a bit of a daze the rest of the day, went to work, but wasn't very switched on. 

I went to the pool that night, and by then the chest was quite sore. But I wanted to know if it was even feasible to turn up to swim squad the next morning. Oh at this point I should mention that Johnny, my swim coach had returned from the UK and on Tuesday we had discussed how we would fine tune my swim in the next few weeks to get every extra percent I could for race day. "Icing on the cake, so to speak".
Hmmmm - best laid plans........

Well I swam about 1.5km, mostly single arm, and realised that a squad session in 12 hrs time was ridiculous. I messaged Xavier when I got home, told him the situation and he advised me to take the next day off completely and let everything settle down. This is why I need a coach. Many people follow online programs, and I'm sure they can work really well. But I would have tried to do the swim and run come what may, if it hadn't been for Xavier advising me not to. I did go for a walk, just to get some fresh air, but with deep breathing still hurting, I can't imagine that I could have run. Still, I was looking at the positives - I could easily have broken a collar bone the way I fell, or really hurt my knees. A bit of muscle soreness wasn't the end of the world. 

On Friday I got up, and the pain across my chest seemed less, although all the muscles in my right arm and shoulder felt tighter. I thought an easy swim might help to loosen them, so I hopped in the pool. Er no. Very easy swimming, with limited breathing was kind of ok (still, every stroke hurt), but even single arm with the good side hurt, and breathing deeply was even worse. I realised then that I'd probably damaged an intercostal muscle (between the ribs). 

Intercostal strain - hoping for a faster healing time than that!

Of course, this was a self-diagnosis, but us vets love to diagnose our own injuries! I managed one hour on the wind trainer and at least I could grip the brakes, so felt confident I'd be able to ride the next day. I loaded up on anti inflammatories on Friday night and hoped that another night would help settle it down. But I changed my ride plan just in case - I would ride out to the foot of the hills, about 90min, and Pete would drive out so there was a car in case I had to abort. Then I would do hill reps until my 5.5hrs was up. 

Saturday dawned, and as forecast, it was dry in Melbourne. But the "few showers" in the east turned out to be heavy rain, and by the time I got to The Basin, I was soaked. My chest had been really painful (like nauseating pain) for 30 min, but had eased up a bit as I got going. But sitting in the cafe at the bottom of the climb, and seeing the state of the cyclists who had been up the top, I realised that with a less than 100% functional right side, descending in the wet and cold could be dangerous. Pete arrived. There were tears. I think I said "if I have to train through another shit winter like this again, I just won't do this sport". Then I pulled myself together, and came up with a plan. I'd ride home, and depending on the weather when I got back, either complete the 5.5 hrs on the windtrainer indoors, or change clothes and head north (where it seemed drier) to do laps of Kew. That's what I ended up doing. I think mentally that has to be the hardest bike session of any race prep I have done. Just being so wet and cold, but also in constant pain, and unable to get out of the saddle on climbs, or push the descents made it seem more like 11hrs. I tried to run off the bike, and managed 15 min, but every breath in AND out felt like someone was stabbing me in the chest. It didn't get any worse, but I was wondering if I could tolerate that much pain for 2h 45 min during my long run the next day.
Fortunately I had a follow up appointment with Dr Mitch Anderson (who admirably consults on Saturday afternoons). I went in with my own self-diagnosis (which he correctly asked me to keep to myself until he'd assessed me!!!! Classic!) Anyway I was right! And fortunately he was thinking along the same lines as me - there is no functional problem with my arm or shoulder, just pain when I breathe deeply. So if we can control the pain and swelling, it won't keep impacting my training.
Hallelujah.....cortisone to the rescue!!
Now I want to add that I absolutely avoid anti-inflammatories and cortisone injections like the plague usually. Because as an endurance athlete, the usual reason we may need those interventions is because we have overdone things, and have overuse injuries/ niggles. And that means the best treatment is to back off or rest.
But this isn't overuse. It's a traumatic injury. Mitch mentioned that I may have also damaged the pleura (the thin layer of tissue that separates the lung from the chest wall). Any damage to that is incredibly painful. But there were no signs of effusion, or bleeding in the pleura, so he was confident the cortisone would settle the problem enough to make me more comfortable. Wow. What a relief! I knew when I woke up today that I could breathe more easily, and there was none of the stabbing pain there had been yesterday.
I can't say it's great, I could feel pain across my chest and back throughout my 29 km hill run, and I had to walk a couple of sections, rather than get out of breath, but I am SO grateful to Mitch for giving me the opportunity to do that run.
I also managed some kind of a swim this evening - using a snorkel, so I wasn't having to take deep breaths. And 1 km of single arm - well my left arm IS the weaker one, so that has to be a bonus!

I'm also really grateful to a couple of other people:

Zoe Clark. Zoe raced Kona with me in 2015. A formidable athlete, but she has stepped away from triathlon somewhat recently. I think she realised how I'd been struggling with loneliness during a lot of my weekend sessions, and she came out to meet me today and ran my second lap with me. Zoe, if you're reading this, I can't begin to say how grateful I am for that.

Peter. He worries about me. He knows how determined I can be to achieve my goals (whatever they actually are for this race - I'm not sure yet!!!). But also, he knows how self-destructive following those goals can be for me. I'm selfish a lot of the time. He, without question has compromised his own training recently, just to make sure I am supported and OK. Yesterday, he was up at 5am, making me coffee, driving out 40km, only to pack up and drive back again.

Peter - my rock

For my "one way epic" he rode INTO the wind, to meet me, while I was yelling "yeehaa" on my glory run with the wind. It is emotionally exhausting supporting someone like that. There have been times where the last thing he wants to talk about is triathlon. So all I can say is that I am utterly grateful for all of it.

Next year Pete wants to race the Ironman 70.3 World Champs in South Africa. I've qualified already (in Cebu), so after Kona, it's Pete's turn. Yes, I'll race next year, but not a full Ironman. It's Pete's turn to focus on his goals.

I dared to think that for my swim, the next few weeks would be the "icing on the cake". As I said earlier today, I'm confident I will be able to swim, and swim well in Hawaii, but maybe the icing will now be a little thinner (or lumpier!) than I might like. But that's Ironman. Goal number one HAS to be to make the start line healthy and in one piece. At the moment I feel a little broken, but 5 weeks is still plenty of time to heal. And when I played rugby, I always got up again, no matter how many times I was knocked down.

5 WEEKS TO GO

The week's stats - too many reds for my liking