I’m beat. It’s not from riding. I think it is from lack of sleep. Other than last Friday night, I haven’t slept in a week. This obviously isn’t completely true, but it seems like it. I know I’m laying in bed for close to 8 hours a night, but I’ve been waking up dozens of times a night, so I’m feeling exactly like I’m extremely jet lagged.
I’m writing and posting this Wednesday night, then taking an Ambien, (maybe half of one since this is the first time I’ve tried them) and hopefully sleeping until tomorrow afternoon.
I woke up this morning and needed to drive to KC to see Dr. Lance Snyder, an orthopedic surgeon. The problem was a semi trailer truck decided to catch on fire and burn to the ground right after the toll booth on I-70, so we sat not moving for an hour and I missed the appointment. They rescheduled it for the afternoon and I made it.
Dr. Snyder said about the same thing as Stacy. My shoulder is blown up, I can race as long as I feel like I want to, and that it will get better in the next week plus. So, I went back through Lawrence and saw Rob Jones, who does PT and then got back at dark. I’ve tentatively agreed to surgery for the Tuesday after Louisville.
I had to go ride outside, so I put a couple pitiful lights on my bike and went out and rode 1 1/2 hours. I felt okay. Not great, but I’m not complaining. My shoulder felt pretty alright. If I was listing aliments in order, I would list a side ache #1, probably from taking a bunch of ibuprofen for a few days and now Mobic. Then, the knee I hit two days before the race still is achy and sore, and lastly, my shoulder, which is non-fuctional in many positions, but out on my brake levers, it isn’t too bad. This doesn’t take into account general overall, being beat. I’m thinking that will change quickly.
My legs were going around pretty well, so I’m pretty optimistic. That isn’t something that I’d thought I’d be writing this morning, so I can’t complain the least. Tomorrow it is supposed to be nearly 50 degrees out, so I plan to go out and ride for a few hours and get a better read on the form. Until then, nite.
Trying to get stop my muscles from locking up with Rob Jones.
Same thing, but way more painful.
Not a bad thing to be voted.
Lance Synder played for KU also and treated the teams.
Saw these while walking down Mass. Ave in Lawrence today. Man, after this Oprah thing, I hope this all just goes away.
Where the River Road turns gravel. I would have keep going to Lawrence if it was just a little earlier and not quite so cold.
Man, my body aches just reading this. What do the docs say about the long-term prognosis for your body? I’m sure the all the cardio work will keep your heart strong, but believe me, at 59, every orthopedic injury I’ve had comes back to haunt me when the weather gets cold and damp.
Steve,
I have to say that reading the description of your ailments and then seeing what you do when you race—well, it makes one appreciate the life (and competitive nature) of a true athlete, not the weekend warriors, but the real athletes. I think some people might dismiss your aches and pains after reading how you subsequently race (winning your age group National Championship), but for me it makes it all that more impressive. I would have loved to see what you could have achieved without a drugged-up Pro Peloton. I’m always impressed when I watch you race (especially when I am in the same race) and hope you can put it all together for the Masters Worlds.
I tore my rotator about 12 years ago and remember the no sleeping thing. I finally found that if I pinned my arm underneath my chest and slept face down, that I could sleep. By pinning the arm with body weight, I couldn’t move it as much in my sleep. It took several days to adjust to that sleeping position.
As for riding, I could right within a week as well, but couldn’t really pull with that side of my body for a good year or more. I never did have the surgery and it hampered my riding for years. Always wish that I would have gotten the surgery.
Good luck with the progress.
Steve,
I love that stick and having someone put my arm through it’s range of motion, (your hand was above your shoulder…ouch). Karen didn’t like manipulating my arm and seeing the tears welling up. My favorite is a pulley at the top of a door jamb with a rope through it so I can use my good side to move the affected side.
I have sympathy for what you’re going through. Do what’s best for you.
Sometimes you’ll feel pretty good and think you can endure with out it getting fixed, but there’s always that ache. Do PT. Do Worlds. Do Surgery. Then do more PT.
Get ready to be Lance Armstrong’s God
Get ready to be God.
Over the next two nights, the world will watch as Lance Armstrong enters the celebrity confessional booth organized under the auspices of culture’s great high priestess. He will confess his sins, cry his tears, and cower in remorse at Oprah’s feet, seeking mercy from the Mother of Morality.
Meanwhile, we get to play God. We get to cast our vote through blogging and social media to decide if he’s forgiven (salvation) or must be punished (damnation). The entire drama is exceedingly religious, with a priestess who ultimately cannot mediate between us and God (unlike Jesus), and a man in pursuit of a forgiveness that cannot save.
Whether or not he walks away from the worst crash of his life, Lance Armstrong will forever stride with a limp. Mr. Livestrong will be Mr. Crashhard. The International Cycling Union stripped Lance Armstrong of all seven of his Tour de France titles back in October. His decorated identity is gone forever. The man formerly associated with perseverance and triumph over adversity will now be known as a cheat, a liar, and a self-absorbed worshiper of the god he sees every morning while brushing his teeth. No matter how many tears he sheds on national television, no matter how much money he pays in lost endorsement deals, and no matter what sanctions or legal punishment he endures, nothing will ever buy back the sterling reputation Lance Armstrong once enjoyed.
His plight reveals just how fragile and fickle an identity truly is. When one of the greatest heroes in the world turns into a villain virtually overnight, each of us should take the opportunity to consider who we really are.
You may not have any prestigious cycling awards to your name, but if all the ways you measure your value disappeared in an instant—health, wealth, spouse, children, beauty, girlfriend, Facebook friends, résumé, GPA, car, job—would there be any “you” left? Would your identity survive if your dark secret suddenly became international news?
How we see ourselves is our identity. As a parent, a pastor, and a sinner, I believe that correctly knowing one’s true identity is the one thing that changes everything. The problem is, most of us don’t. The world’s fundamental problem is that we don’t understand who we truly are, and instead define ourselves by our appearance, our possessions, our relationships, our sexuality, our achievements, our suffering, our failures, etc.
When we get our identity wrong, we become guilty of idolatry: living for a created thing (like cycling, people’s praise, victory, or money) rather than the Creator of all things. Tragically, many who lose their individual identity idol either fight desperately to keep it (so goes Mr. Armstrong, pedaling up a steep hill trying to regain his status as decent human being), or simply choose another one and repeat the entire painful process over and over and over. We move from one addiction to another, one religious commitment to another, one relationship to another, one cause to another, and one possession to another, continually seeking the answer to the question, “Who am I?”
There’s only one true answer to our identity crisis: Jesus Christ.
The absolute worst place to begin constructing an identity is yourself, which is precisely where most counseling begins. The absolute best place to begin constructing an identity is Jesus Christ, which is precisely where Scripture begins. Knowing that Jesus made us, and knowing that we are saved by him through faith is the key to your identity. It’s not about you—it’s all about Jesus.
A lesser-known figure in the sporting world articulates the practical implications of this theology well. “What I do is not who I am. If I become what I do and I become just a football coach, then you’re asking for disaster,” Georgia’s Mark Richt said recently. “My identity is in Christ. I am a born-again believer in Jesus Christ. I know that he died for my sin and I am going to heaven when this is all said and done, forever. That gives me peace, no matter what happens here.”
A relationship with Jesus isn’t just about future life in eternity—it’s about new life in the present. Jesus offers freedom from the pressure to create, maintain, hide, achieve, buy, or race your way to an identity that’s ultimately going to fail anyway. Jesus has already done all the work on our behalf: he lived the perfect life we could never achieve and died to cover our guilt and sin—so all we have to do is enjoy God.
New identity in Jesus is God’s great gift to humanity, and it’s much better than anything Oprah or the watching world will offer Lance Armstrong. I pray that Lance receives it. And I pray that you receive it—before the other identity you’re clinging to crashes and leaves you with nothing but bitter confusion and pain as you lay on the shoulder of the road of life.
To learn more about what it means to find your true identity in Jesus, check out Pastor Mark’s latest book, Who Do You Think You Are?
Steve. Sleep is everything and Ambien will only help. Remember:
One pill makes you larger. And one pill makes you small. And the ones that Mother gives you don’t do anything at all.
Go ask Alice….when she’s ten feet taaaaaaaaall… Remember…what the doormouse said. Feeeed your head.
Feeeeeeeeeeed yooooouuuurrrr heeeeeeeeeaaaaaadddd…
Take an Ambien, please.
Well said David.