Six weeks post-op

Not a bad view to be injured, huh?

I wasn't going to write anything. In fact, every time (not often) I think I should, because of the progress, I simultaneously don't care for. I tell you more. As I am sitting here on the couch, I still waver about wasting my time on it. But, it's 3 am, I've been up since 1 am, and it's my second night like that. What else should I do? I mean, I got a book right next to me, and hopefully I'll ramble quick enough to get to read it before I have to hop on my morning bike routine.

The insomnia is my nemesis. It's in waves, comes and goes. It's been doing really good since I got on HRT back in November, then the accident happened, then the surgery - you try and sleep on your back while wearing a stiff metal brace! Then it got better, the brace came off at night, and I was finally able to be on my stomach. But somehow, the waking up and laying with my head swarmed by the thoughts came back, too. Go figure. Sometimes I fall back asleep, some time, like these last 2 nights, like a couple of nights last week, it's useless. So here we go.

Recovery is not a linear process. I've been reading a book on my bike by Hillary Allen (that ultra girl who fell off the cliff during a race and broke a bunch of bones, then came back), and in yesterday's chapter she said exactly these words. Her shit, of course, was by far worse. But, I concur. Recovery is not a linear process. As you move forward, and the next step comes back, even if you're lucky enough to not have a "serious" set back, some adjustments have to be made, and you're taking a step backwards is some other ways. Just as you adjust to a certain thing and become "okay" living like that, things have to change, again. And even though those new things are generally a forward progress and are exciting and something you worked towards to, it's still unsettling to make a change, yet again. Weird, huh? The good thing, though, every time this spiral sort of thing of stepping back and moving forward is progressing a little easier and a little faster.

Here I was, "walking" on my two crutches, getting faster (that competitor in me) and more adjusted, and quite literally, as I increased "the mileage" up to 4, I began experimenting with one crutch. While I backed off to allow my leg accept that new weight bearing percentage (by technicality, it was 50%, but who knows), I didn't have to go back too far, and next time I inhaled, it got from 2 to 3 to 5 to 6, and eventually 8.5 miles. Whoa! That was like, ok, I guess I can "hike" my "trail race of half marathon" in March on a crutch! And then, literally, 2 days after that, I decided to try 2 hiking poles - because, I mean, who drags a crutch to a different state and goes into a trail race with it. Even though I was really comfortable doing it. Anyhow, I thought I am going for just a few minutes. I ended up with 2 miles. That ultrarunner in me - nothing in moderation. I went for another 4 next day, and then a few in a snow storm, still with stiffly locked leg in a brace, learning how to swing it while placing poles in front of it - and then I had my official 6-week post-op with my surgeon. He was thrilled with me - in a nonchalant kind of way. I walked without a single crutch (I haven't been using it in over a week, unless I was going for an extended hike). Not surprised one bit, fully expecting me to be where I am, yet very, very pleased with what he saw (and his work on my knee). And after a few minutes of exam and chat, he's like: "I'm unlocking the brace, start walking normally, stop limping around, and in a week, ditch the brace". Wait, what? My brace is like my security blanket! I got attached to it, and while I sleep without it, and sometimes hobble around the house not putting it on, without it I feel "naked" - and very vulnerable. He's like: "Well, if you're worried, and are doing too much, switch to a softer version, but in a couple of weeks, really, you're fine. Just don't go for a run". Duh. Wasn't planning to.

I mean, lots of people who see what I've been up to - but not those who are in the community of knuckleheads I am in - think I am overdoing it. In reality, while I keep a step or two ahead of "general guidelines" of some (key word) developmental progress, I'd like to say I am extremely cautious and exercise fare judgment in assessing my pain level, swelling, and other little niggles. I push, but only to the point where, as soon as I sense even remotely anything, I back off. What's one week in a whole year of rehab? Why hurry?

Anyway, now that my knee is moving up to 50 degrees in a brace (and up to 90 without), I got 5 miles in - still with 2 hiking poles - and 1 full mile on a Treadmill free and clear. And I have a full intention to stay within these limits, using hiking poles AND a brace (unlocked as it is) for my "longer" efforts for at least a month. I "might" consider switching to a soft brace for just life's stuff - whether in a week or two - but where hiking is concerned, not interested in fucking it up.

That sentence above about taking step back with every step forward? Just as with walking miles and rebuilding again, 2 crutches to 1 to poles to bent knee, same goes to weight training on my legs. Here I was, banging my right leg, trying to keep it in shape as before ("trying" is definitely a word), and this week I was allowed to include my left leg - but ONLY together with the right, while doing mini squats, leg presses, calf raises, and other not too big stuff. And just like that, I have to back off the weight loaded. I can press 3 (and sometimes 4) more times with my one right leg then what I have to do now with two - it's mentally hard, looking at the plates, but it has to be done this way. Breathe...

In other physically advanced news, my one-leg stationary bike pedaling skill had progressed greatly. I am able to maintain HR around 120 (my only semi-accepted increase of HR that I can call "exercise") for an hour and half, and my butt is surviving - although definitely not thriving. Even with the padded bike shorts (thanks to the neighbor cyclist) and with a padded seat (thanks to Amazon), my ass hurts. How the hell all those people do it for hours? Also, thank God for the adventure books from the library - I would have never been able to spend so much time on this device without reading inspirational stories. Fuck that shit, it's boring even if working hard. That's why I don't do Dreadmill unless it's an interval workout and unless it's under 5 miles (and even that maybe 3 times a year). I can't, I need things to move around me. Even if it's just damn streets, over and over again. Objects have to change in my view to appear as if the movement actually happens.

My upper body workouts are banging hard, the lifting is only limited by the fact I don't have a "spotter" at the gym and don't want to drop a 35 lb dumbbell on my head. The weights that are pushed around increased in the last month by good 20%, though I don't know where I go from here. Still, fun. Yet, getting bored with it, too. And miss a little yoga...God, how I wish I could get into a pretzel! Alas, this has to wait. The bending of the knee stage is just about to begin. I have absolutely no progress to report here since the last update. Everything is cranky and locked up in there, not only the surgical site itself, but all the surrounding muscles and tendons and shit.

I'm back to work. I got for a few appointments in the last week of January, and it was tiring. I am a part-timer as it is, my schedule used to be 3 times a week 4 appointments. As of coming back officially in February, I cut it off to 3 people 3 times. First week was exhausting and super uncomfortable (for what I do), but as I adjusted, and my leg was feeling better, that got easier. However, and that's a huge thing, I no longer care to be at work that long (even that little!). Two things are at play. One is that I have appointments of my own to attend, PT, massage, laser therapy for scar tissue (to allow better movement of tissues). Doing my own PT and my own exercise routine takes forever - the daily bike-weights-walks all take a very long time, to maintain any resemblance of fitness. And just to make it clear, I am focused on my fitness not solely (really, not at all) because I am aiming at some obscure goal of  come-back to some race or what-not. My fitness has been my biggest driving force my whole life, independent of ultras, running, FKT backpacking, etc. It's just a goal on its own, for me. Anyway, second item for my not wanting to get back to work fully is that - I no longer give a shmuck. Like, at all. I've always known life is short (when I was 35, my only nephew died in a car crash, and he was 24). This absolutely stupid ski accident - completely unpredictable as I am not a risk taker - proven more if I needed more that I only have that many years left of being active and pursuing things I love. It being mountains in every shape and form, of course. Plus read (other than adventure) books (not on a bike). And knit. And spend quality time with Larry (something I am definitely lacking right now with all the exercises and running around and my mind being completely submerged in my knee rehab). And I actually do have friends - even here, in town, I'd like to see occasionally and have coffee with. And outside, whom I'd love to visit. And, oh my God, places to visit! I can't even damn take a drive on the weekend to a state park an hour away, because I "walk" after the sun warms up the air - you try move slowly in sub-freezing temps and darkness on a crutch! This cuts into the day that both Larry and I like to have done with by lunch. Plus, so many errands and simply daily life!

So, I don't know where I am with that work stuff. I'd like to think I'll be able to keep that 3 by 3 for March. I technically no longer have an excuse for the boss or my admin, and sort of waiting for them to snap at me for quietly blocking an hour a day in my schedule manually. Yet, I am not ready to quit altogether, it provides me with some sort of "entertainment" outside the house in terms of seeing people - and helping people (yeah, still a nice feeling, though I understand I'll be forgotten if I disappear, eventually), and a few dollars of pocket cash. This tiny paycheck gives me a warm fuzzy feeling of "independence" regardless how stable and secure my relationship with Larry is (very) and how well he provides for us (thank you, honey). It is what I call "my play money", something mental that "oh, I can feed us for a month", or "I can use it to fly see my best friend", or "I am signing up for this race, even though I am going to crawl at the tail-end of it and fuck up my ultra score". I guess I'll let the fate and time decide how this shit with my job plays out. I don't think they are dumb enough to kick me out if I do end up discussing fewer hours officially - we technically hired a second therapist over a year ago. However, none of my patients moved to his appointments while I was out for a month. Cute. I'm thankful. Not even sure though if it's a good thing for my work-related worries ("Oh, look, they love me, you can't get rid of me, you'll loose the clients!") or not so good thing ("Your patients have to book far in advance and we're losing money on them not coming as often"). Whatever.

Where does it leave this blog? Who knows. I typed it, wow, what a waste of an hour, but it's spilled over. Let me throw a few photos at those few of you checking it out. Bottom line is, 6 weeks post-surgery, 8 weeks post-accident. I'm doing ok. Time flew by, while dragging. I am a kind of person who always focuses at the task at hand, right where I can control it. Every morning I wake up, and in front of me is the "list" of things I CAN do, not the list I can't. So, I get a cup of coffee, and start chipping away at it. Do I have a big picture? There are times I dream big, of all those things I wanted to do this year - how I am going to do them next year. There are times I back off, tell myself those are stupid, unimportant things, even for me personally. That I should do more "fun" stuff without goals, definitely travel more (hard to do with Larry's job though). But then again, "goals" have ALWAYS been a "fun" thing for me. So, again, I am taking it one day at a time. One step at a time. You know, living in a moment ain't a bad shit, and if I think about it, I kinda like it, and, apparently, come to think about it, utilized it more than I thought I did. Next milestone - another 6 weeks for the next doc's appointment. 12 weeks after the surgery, fingers crossed, he'll let me jog a few steps for the first time. Still a long way to go where I can do things I used to do...Patience.