Yuup, the restorative power of lobster! With it’s generous helping of bone healing protein, as well as vital minerals like calcium, iron, and magnesium, plus plenty of invigorating vitamins, it pretty much sells itself to an injury cyclist nursing his wounded wing. Of course with that being said, I would happily crack through dozens of lobsters even if it was horribly laden in fat and cholesterol (…umm, much like the butter you dunk it in). And why do I need bone-healing lobster with merely a separated shoulder…? Stay tuned.
First let’s backtrack.
Ahh, home sweet home. Amid an incredible outpouring of support — for which I’m eternally humbled and forever grateful for your emotionally charged comments/emails/phone calls/texts/tweets/messages — I bid the Tour de France goodbye. Doing my best not to stew on the situation, I next gave my supportive and impressively globe-trotting parents a tour de Girona for a few fleeting days, before making my way back to America. The first order of business was seeking more thorough medical care than what’s found in the quick diagnoses found at the Tour de France. At Access Sports Medicine in Exeter, after thrice x-rays and 45 minutes in the MRI machine…
…I learned that in addition to my separated shoulder, I also have a fractured coracoid, which is part of the scapula. And as tough-guy as it sounds to say that I broke my scapula, in reality the coracoid is a fairly obscure bone. So as BA as I am, in practice this diagnosis means:
a) I’m all the more impressed with myself for having grit through three more stages of the Tour de France. Sheesh, let alone saddling back up and finishing the first painful stage.
b) I never had a mid-season break since I segued the Tour of San Luis to Paris-Nice to the Classics to California to nationals to Suisse to the Tour de France, and therefore I suddenly was handed this ideal time for a quick rest. Which in turn means…
c) it’s time to go to Maine! I was in Vacationland literally for just a few short hours, but given the support from some of my favorite fans under four-and-a-half feet tall, I just had to make the trip. Coincidentally, they just may be my cousins. Or “cousins-once-removed”. Or “second-cousins”. I don’t know how that works, but they’re rad and definitely help stoke the ego.
Now jump ahead eight days off the bike later (yes, with one evening spent eyes deep in lobster to help mend my ailing bones), I was back on my steed. With the help of European jet-lag plus an American sized helping of coffee, I’m able to stay busy in my typical New England swing. I saw some of my best friends, ate some amazing meals, rode my bike once or twice, cooked one final thank you dinner for my parents and another amazing hometown friend, and just cleared my head. T’was glorious.
But it’s now business time and therefore time to get ready for the next round, which may involve training at altitude here in Colorado as well as the use of an electric bone stimulator. Yes, an electric bone stimulator. That’s a fun addition to the daily routine because I get to say, “Yes, that’s a bone stimulator in my pocket AND I’m happy to see you!”
But before you break out the well off-color jokes, it’s applied to my shoulder to stimulate bone growth, not my nether regions. I’m also icing on the reg’ since after some proper bike riding, my shoulder gets sore and ice is magic.
I don’t actually ice my head, though. I ice my shoulder. I have it on my head because everyone who sees my awesome ice pack is amazed that they actually exist. They’ve only ever seen them in cartoons on cartoons’ heads when they bump their noggin. Friends, they actually exist and they work really well.
In an ideal scenario the rather hermit-like routine reads something like this: wake up, ride bike, ice shoulder, stimulate bones, rest, and repeat. The ol’ wing is getting better at an exponential rate, day by day, and seemingly hour by hour. While the first few rides even after the lengthy time off were drenched in a world of pain, each ride is considerably more comfortable and feeling just plain NORMAL than the last. And not just saying that to make everyone say, “Aww Ted, that’s just super great!” I mean it — every ride is way better than before!
Enough sappy talk though, it’s time to win some bike races!