AUS Under 19 MTB camp - Cairns 2014

Volunteering to coach at the Australian Under 19 MTB camp meant I would be back on the Cairns World Cup course where I’d broken myself.  For the first two days I froze on all the technical sections, still feeling the pain and stiffness in my recently healed wrist.  Did I really need to be riding this stuff only 10 days before I headed to a race in Canada?  When I am riding well, all I can see in my head me, floating effortlessly down rock gardens.  But now, all I could visualise was crashing and ruining a holiday.

 

 

Getting good press from the local media

 

Helping the U19 girls by pointing out the lines, instructing on body position and telling them to ‘let go and do it!’ must have worked its way into my own subconscious though.  I also felt like a giant fraud coaching someone to do something I couldn’t or wouldn’t do.  By the end of the week in Cairns most of my confidence had returned and I was feeling like a mountain biker again.  No, I didn’t hit the A-line at Jacob’s Ladder but I think that was a prudent move!  The best part of the experience was watching the riders progress on the challenging track.  The athletes really inspired me by overcoming their fears and going out of their comfort zones to ride features like ‘croc slide’ and ‘barramundi’.  I feel they helped me more than I helped them.

 Aus U19 riders nailing Jacob's Ladder

Staying on the beach at Holloways was not hard work but there was little time to enjoy it as the days were filled with training, psychology, sports nutrition, anti-doping education and a tour of the sports science facilities at James Cook University.  The main complaint from the athletes was that the camp was too short which was a great sign.  Although it might have something to do with the 28 degree winter in Cairns.  I was quite sad to leave my old home town again but my next adventure was due to start and I had work to do.

 

 

Holloways Beach - yes, we'll be back!

 

The prize for winning the pairs category in last year’s Trans Rockies was a free entry for this year’s edition – rebranded the Single Track 6.  Coupled with my sister’s wedding the following week in BC it was an easy decision to make.  It will be the first race for my new Giant Lust 27.5 after taking it out of the box for in Cairns.  Last year I remembered thinking how much more fun the trails would be in Canada if I had a dually so I’m really looking forward to those arm-achingly long Rocky Mountains descents.  After 6 days in the saddle I will appreciate the rear travel.  The smaller wheels (than 2013) should suit the single track heavy nature of the 2014 race.  My aim is to give the Canadian girls some competition while keeping all my skin so I don’t spoil the wedding photos with bandages. Wish me luck!

 

 

New Giant Lust - ready to take on Canada!

What's a sartorius and why does it hurt so much??

I’m sitting on the lounge post-ride rubbing a cream which apparently contains arnica, ginger and chilli perilously close to my groin.  My first MTB ride in over 8 weeks, on a still fragile wrist was a battle of wills.  My left hand is supposed to have 38kg of grip strength.  I currently have only 18kg which makes opening a zip lock bag challenging.  Hanging on to the handlebar while descending takes all fingers which means covering the rear brake is very optional.  Despite this I made it gingerly down some singletrack (of course there was a torrential downpour last night making things greasy) and even managed something approaching flow.  Then I got hooped by two 12 year old boys on flat pedals coming down Rocket Frog.  Some work to be done then.

 

So back to my groin and I’ve discovered that I don’t give my Sartorius muscle a single thought until I have a tear in it.  No, not from running, although that didn’t help.  Simply picking up my foot on Thursday afternoon to look at something on the sole of my shoe then ‘snap’!  Consulting my sports medicine bible I note the recommendation to ice and avoid aggravating activities.  From experience aggravating activities include walking, standing, sitting, lying down, rolling over and generally moving.  Who makes up these stupid rules?? Riding is not TOO bad if I ignore the difficulty in mounting and pushing off when I can’t pick my foot up off the ground.

 

 An anatomy lesson: this is your satorius - respect it

Bumping into a friend near the end of my ride we were both shaking our heads as to why we bother some days.  Between the wrist, the torn muscle, the tail-end of a cold, wet trails why the hell was I trying to get my training session done?  Surely I should have just given in and had a sleep in? Well one positive thing is that I got to see some views like this….

 

 South Boundary Rd. Have seen this view many times - still breathtaking

Travelling to places like Europe and Canada I forget how stunning my own backyard can be.  This was impressed on me last weekend when I tackled the Rapha Gents 160k ride with some mates.  We circled Mount Warning through some of the prettiest countryside I’ve ever seen, only 1.5 hours drive from house.

 

 

 Riding with friends - I don't do this enough 

 

The other thing I’ve come to realise is that my body is meant to MOVE.  It’s what it was designed for and what my entire being is happiest doing.  Sometimes moving, whether that’s riding, running, paddling or climbing involves pushing through obstacles and finding a way to get my fix.  Instead of not riding at all, I chose to do what riding I could.  If technical riding hurt my wrist and hip then I’d climb the mountain on the fire trails.  When I couldn’t get on the bike at all, I learned to love to run again.  Most of the people who know me understand this.

 

Bec Frendo drove the support vehicle for our Rapha ride, providing sustenance in the form of croissants, baguettes, pancetta, assorted cheeses, cake and even a roast chicken.  For 12 hours she transported, fed and tracked our crew and even managed a training run of her own between feed-zones.  I mentioned to her that this was a generous gift of time until she confided in me that she owed hubby Mark some reciprocal support duties.  Nineteen hours-worth in fact, while she ran the Northface 100k.  Yep, just casually dropped in that she completed one of the hardest 100km trail runs in the world.  Another mate did 36 or so climbs of Mt Cootha (known as ‘everesting’ – look it up).  He wasn’t raising money for cancer or anything, he just had a day free and thought “this is the hardest thing I can think of doing”. These are my people.  We love this shit.

 

Get out there.  Laugh. Cry. Stop for coffee. And remember to enjoy the views!

Mums - save yourselves first!

I've been both disappointed & inspired by some women in the media this week. Fresh out of a Sports Medicine Australia conference it was reaffirming to know that the focus is squarely on increasing public participation in exercise. The current motto is "Sport AS medicine" and the evidence shows that doctors should be telling patients to get active before they start doling out expensive pharmaceuticals. There's been too much shying away from telling overweight & unfit people to cold hard truth. Low fitness is THE HIGHEST risk factor for early death.

A Facebook spam post for Milo sucked me in with a clip of kids thanking their mums for basically being taxi drivers for endless rounds of organised sport. While the children looked ok the mums looked anything except 'fit'. It got me wondering if the mothers actually made time for their own physical activity in between sitting in traffic for multiple hours per week whilst driving their kids. Let me make this point - there is no award for the parent who clocks up the most k's ferrying their kids around! You are not the 'mother of the year' but you may not get to see your grandkids because you're failing to look after your own health. It is not 'natural' for your 8 year old to run faster than you - it's because you're unfit!

On the other hand there are role models like my former team mate Ruth Corset. Previous Australian Road Race and NRS champion she is balancing elite sport with raising two girls & managing her own business. Yes, it sounds like another 'superwoman' story that some women love to hate. But the point is that Ruth is a fantastic EXAMPLE to her kids that sport is not something you do when you're at school and then give up when life happens. Exercise IS life and actually saves your life! Ruth talks about nearing the end of her cycling career and is not planning to sit on the couch but will start triathlons to stay active.

It's not necessary to be World Champ, but it's not unreasonable to make time for your own physical activity, even if it means other family members need to adjust their schedules. Why not join in if your child does athletics (that's how I got roped into the master's team), instead of sitting on the sidelines. My friend used to run laps of the park while her son played cricket.

I've focused on mum's here because, well, I'm a mum! But dads this goes equally for you. Don't just be the guy handing out a sausage in a slice of Wonderwhite after the race ( Actually don't EVEN be that guy. I can't believe they still do this, but that's a rant for another day).

Get up and get active!

Pedalling furiously, going nowhere...

I’ve spent the last week or so relearning some hard lessons.  So used to push through discomfort I’m not great at recognising the difference between that and pain caused by injuring an already injured body part.  Luckily Laura and Dolph at QSMC straightened me out (both physically and psychologically) and I’ve now progressed to sweat-pool inducing windtrainer sessions in my lounge room.

Fun times at the physio!

Like any red-blooded mountain biker of sound mind I LOATHE the stationary bike session.  It is amazing what I can do when there is no alternative though.  Being rather fortunate to have broken myself the year SBS decides to screen every stage of the Giro I’ve at least been distracted by the rolling hills of Italy, skinny men breaking collarbones and the mysterious urge to buy a Skoda.  I also threw in ’24 Solo’ the epic battle for the World Championship between Gordo and Eatough.  That never gets old but I am scratching for another MTB DVD so suggestions are welcome.

Yes, you read that correctly.

I’m not going to pretend that being injured is a good thing, but it has revealed a few things personally.  The fact that I can spend 4 hours pedalling circles in my lounge room and another hour every day getting intimate with tennis balls and ITB rollers means I have a bit of mental toughness and also that I’m clearly still in love with the sport.  Or I’m a sick masochist.

Just want to ride.

Road to recovery

One and a half weeks post-crash and I still have 4.5 weeks left in a wrist cast with a broken scaphoid.  Things have gone as well as they possibly could though.  The break was a ‘good’ one in a part of the bone which is 99% likely to heal without complications.  I’ve had excellent treatment from the precautionary ED doctors at Cairns Base Hospital, to my physio, Laura, getting me a pronto referral for an MRI.  My sports doctor got me a same-day appointment to have a specially moulded splint put on so I could continue training.  I’m really lucky to have a great professional team.

 My carbon-look cast - cool!

People have been saying I should get straight on the windtrainer to maintain my cycling fitness, but I have resisted for a couple of reasons.  One, I was due to have a couple of weeks off the bike after World Cup and being injured should not change this plan.  Two, I don’t want to pretend it’s ‘business as usual’.  I have suffered a significant injury and am not going to just train like I’ve only skinned my knee.  I also have a large hematoma on my hip which I hope will get small enough to button up my jeans someday.  My lower back is now the main concern with me groaning like a 70 year old every time I have to bend forward.

Looks like an alien.  Actually is a hematoma.  

My immediate concern was that I wouldn’t be able to work in my sports massage business but after a couple of practice clients it seems I can work around it.  This is one of the benefits of being known more for knuckles and elbows than soft, soothing hand strokes.  Yes, it hurts my body to work but it is helping me mentally to be around my clients who are so amazing and motivating.  I treat a guy who has fallen in love with marathon running in his 60s and last week massaged a woman with 4 kids who has decided she will swim the English Channel as her 40^th birthday present.  I mean, wow!  It makes me realise that having 6 weeks off is not the end of the world and there is plenty of time to get back to training for something insane.

The problem with pushing through pain at work and being optimistic is that it’s bloody exhausting.  This has resulted in a few ‘losing it’ moments and a short fuse with family and friends – sorry!  As someone who is fiercely independent it’s frustrating to struggle with simple things like tying up my hair and getting dressed.  So peeved I couldn’t get my cast through a single jacket I owned I may have shed a few tears (straw that broke the camel’s back) then vented by take scissors to the sleeve of one of my favourite coats.  On the upside it now fits over my cast.

Thanks to everyone for your messages of support.  I hope to see you on the trails soon!

Cairns World Cup (almost)

The thing most people say on first visiting a World Cup track is “Wow – it doesn’t look that big on TV”. Until you’re actually looking down the rock chute or drop off, you don’t have an accurate idea of just how gnarly it is and how skilled the riders are who make it look easy.  What I love about racing on World Cup courses is being pushed out of my comfort zone.  That little bit of sick I get at the back of my mouth before trying to ride something I’m not sure I will survive – I get off on that.  Which is a little weird.  But that’s what separates people who like to ride on the dirt, from actual mountain bikers.  The fact that I’m typing this one-handed (slowly) demonstrates that there is sometimes a price to pay for the rush of challenge and self-discovery.

I enjoy the progression I get as a rider from the first day I see a course (“How the hell am I going to get around this nightmare?”) through a few days of practice leading up to the race (“Yeah! I can’t believe I just rode that!”).  Discovering the track with other riders a sense of camaraderie builds as we swap line choices and help each other conquer technical sections.  After two days of practice in the pouring rain I was semi-comfortable and knew I could get around the course riding the B-lines (less technical lines but longer), but I don’t come to World Cups to ride the B-lines.  Doing course recon with Holly and Dave Harris I'd worked my way up to riding the ‘Croc Slide’, an intimidating rock face constituting the A-line, shaving a couple of seconds off a lap.  Entering that dangerous zone where my confidence was slightly exceeding my ability I decided to tackle the rock drop-in on the infamous Jacob’s Ladder section.

It’s hard to say exactly what I did wrong but the net result was me flying through the air and landing on some very unforgiving rocks.  My left hip and hand took the full impact, saving my face and my bike, which I think was a good choice.  Blinding pain overtook me in the way that I didn't cry, but could only sit very still as the blood drained away from my face and my vision started to get dark.  Dave held my feet up as I went into shock and the paramedics made their way up to me.  Laughter then ensued as I recognised one of them as a school friend from 20 years ago – the quirks of racing where I grew up.  More laughter was had once I was sucking on the ‘green whistle’ of pain relief and realised that while my hip was very swollen, it wasn't broken and I'd be walking out.

Back at the event centre First Aid staff were more concerned about my hand which I had assumed was just a little bruised.  Five hours in hospital later I was having the following conversation:

Doctor:  We can’t see a fracture but scaphoid fractures don’t show up on x-ray for a week so we need to put a cast on your arm until then.

Me: Well let’s say we don’t put a cast on (still thinking I would be racing) – what would happen?

Doctor: Your bone could die.

Me: So how important is this bone anyway?  Do I really need it?

Doctor:  If you intend to do anything with your hand in future, you will need your scaphoid. (Thinking: idiot!)

So I let her put a plaster cast on to humour her, thinking I’d take it off the next day when I felt better.  After a night feeling like someone was hammering a nails into my wrist I suspected the lady who went to medical school possibly knew better than I did.

I’d had a lot of fun riding the course, extended my skills, proved I wasn’t a pussy by riding the A-line so initially I was only a little disappointed.  Watching the racing on Redbull TV though that gutted feeling set in though.  I would have loved to be out there and think I’d have done a decent job.  Some people have said I must think all my training was for nothing.  But the truth is I would have done the training anyway – I’ve always loved the training but have learned to love the racing.  Missing out on the opportunity to race in my former home-town was a blow, but I guess that gives me the perfect excuse to extend my World Cup racing until the next round here.  I missed one race and there will be other races.  Time to look towards www.singletrack6.com in July!

National XCM Titles - Mt Joyce

My training diary is very useful when analysing what went so wrong.  I’ve been battling the virus I had before XCO Nationals for 5 weeks.  Waking up every day with a headache which gets worse over the course of the day to a point when it hurts to look at my laptop screen or have the lights on in the house.  I’ve felt okay one day and trained then been completely wiped out the next day and wracked by muscle and joint pain.

Now you might think that feeling like that would be a no-brainer to stop training and racing.  That’s what the doctor thought when I fronted for a blood test last Monday but he clearly underestimated the stupidity he was dealing with, which is concerning as he usually works with professional footballers.  When the test results did not come back before the weekend I saw this is as fate telling me it was okay to race, or at least that I could plead ignorance of a confirmed medical reason to preclude me from racing.  It would be a tough course, my prep had been rubbish, but I’ve faced bigger challenges before and it’s turned out okay.

It wasn’t a good sign when my legs were sore and cramping before the race even started.  The pain in my chest I put down to scoffing my breakfast too quickly.  Head pounding as usual but at 8am it was already a baking hot day.  Surprisingly the first lap felt relatively comfortable.  Sitting behind other riders on the singletrack climb meant being forced into the group selected pace.  The second fireroad climb was brutal, loose and kept kicking up until it was faster for me to walk than ride.  I was gapped by the front three riders on the climb but caught up quickly on the technical descent and led out for the second lap.  I knew my legs were lacking power but if I could get into the singletrack first I could create time gaps on the descents to hopefully hold of the stronger climbers. 

By this time my head was pounding despite drinking to plan and was making my handling sketchy.  Calf cramps were well advanced but I was trying to adjust my pedalling to deal with them.  Although the day was clearly hot I kept feeling waves of chills but it was when the chest pain set in that I became a little concerned.  I’ve lectured my coaching clients on the dangers of damage to the heart when racing with a virus (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myocarditis) and I began to worry about what I might have done to myself.  I have history in this area and once trained feeling ‘off’ and ended up in hospital 12 hours later with liver and kidney shut down.  Apparently I am not the best judge of my body’s limits. 

Dropping back on the second climb again but confident I could catch back up on the descent I was brought to a halt by escalating chest pain, stabbing pain in my head affecting my vision and the desire to eject my last gel from my stomach.  In the middle of the forest, alone, not knowing if I was about to collapse I decided the race was over and it would be best to find the quickest way back.  Soft pedalling along the trail and stopping to lean against trees I met up with another rider who was also pulling out.  She stayed with me until I felt able to keep creeping along the trail and we continued a relatively enjoyable trail ride realising this racing thing might really be ruining a nice day.

Meeting up with the ambulance in the main clearing I was told in no uncertain terms to get in the van where they hooked me up to a bunch of leads and took some heart readings.  Nothing too unusual other than, unsurprisingly, I have a thick, muscular heart.  The tightness and pain kept coming in waves and was more likely all of my intercostal muscles cramping and constricting my chest.  A wave of nausea hit but I realised I was just car sick from being in the back of a four-wheel-driving van.

I can’t say I’m too disappointed as Mt Joyce was a race I entered at the last minute without too much expectation.  The concern lies in wondering where to go from here.  Having finally made my decision to do Cairns I am hardly in World Cup condition and have no idea how long it will take to kick this virus.  One thing is that I refuse to do is keep flogging a crumbling immune system leaving me unable to ride, and taking away from quality time with my family and friends.  Health has to come first – always.

Thanks and apologies to my sponsors that I couldn’t get the job done this time: Giant, Ride Mechanic, Shotz, For the Riders, Sram, KWT Maxxis.

Photo credit: Paul Fletcher