I live a very mono-dimensional life. I'll be the first to acknowledge and admit it.  I have chosen it, so it's what I want, but there is no question that the day in and day out of my life is quite monotonous and generally not overly exciting.  Get up, eat, train, eat, rest, train, eat, rest, train, eat, rest, sleep.  Repeat.  

I was asked the other day if I do anything different on the weekends or if the days are basically the same from one day to the next.  Let's just say that the only reason I know a Saturday from a Tuesday is because the lane times at the pool change from weekdays to weekends.  I also notice that grocery stores are a lot busier on weekends.  And I don't have physio on weekends.  But that's about it.  

And this is the way it needs to be to achieve the goals that I have set out for myself.  So it is not a 'sacrifice' as many might term it, but simply a chosen way of life to ensure that I meet every single one of my expectations.  And as I was discussing this all with Wade today, he provided an analogy for this 'sacrifice' as we like to call it that explains it all beautifully.  Here it is:

You're a kid.  You get one penny for your allowance every day.  You can choose to buy many little 1 cent candies so that you can have a treat every day OR you can save your pennies until they become 100 pennies so that you can buy the 1 dollar candy bar you eye every single time you go into the store.  Which do you choose?

What the one delicious candy bar won't provide you with is the immediate gratification of a treat every single day.  It also means that you will not experience the diverse range of flavors from all the different little candies that you sample every day.  It also means that instead of many...you can have just one. It also means that there is no guarantee that you won't get robbed part way through and have to start saving all over again, taking even longer to get to your delicious candy bar. 

It means you will have to be disciplined.  Very, very disciplined.

Because what the candy bar DOES provide you with is the ultimate satisfaction of knowing that you know what you want.  Because knowing what you want and going to get it is true happiness.  And as the rest of the kids spend their pennies on the small treats they don't even really want, you just keep dreaming about that chocolate bar of yours and how great it will taste when you finally get it.  And then, it happens.  The day that you count out your pennies and place all 100 of them down on the counter.  You then say to the store clerk, "That one.  I'd like THAT one please."  

Sacrifice?  Nope.  Don't think so.

I rarely have the ambition or motivation to do a blog mid-day between workouts, but as I find myself taking a rest between one workout to the next, I feel a rare energy to write a little blog.  Not sure what it is that I want to write but I have a feeling it'll come to me as I continue to type.

This is November 21st, and although it's a day that I have largely forgotten due to memory loss, ironically it's a day that I will also never forget.  A day where all the cards were placed on the table and although at the time it would have seemed that I had lost that game, I can look back on it only a year later and see that I was actually dealt one hell of a hand that day.  (And for someone that hates cards that's really saying something).

As I continue to think about what to write, what keeps coming to mind is what Silken Laumann wrote to me in an email shortly after the accident. 

"The force of your will, your dream, and your belief are going to make your body heal and do things that nobody thinks is possible.  Surround yourself with love and positive people and know that this will be the greatest journey of your life." 

I have this posted to my fridge.  It was the greatest advice that I received, and believe me, I received A LOT of great advice this last year.  Regardless though, I let her words settle into my mind and heart. I knew that I just had to keep believing.  And little by little, as time progressed, it became more and more clear that she was absolutely right. Go figure;)

My surgeons, therapists, family, friends, Wade, sponsors, triathlon communities particularly within Penticton/Calgary/Vernon, Giancarlo Nisimblat, Rob Kelly, and so many others it's impossible to mention.  But it has just occured to me that I don't know if I have thanked Paulo Sousa for what he's done.  And so it's time to do so.

 As a new member of the squad at the time of the acciden Paulo very easily could have dropped me from the squad altogether.  Instead, I showed the will to come back and he took me seriously.  There was no hand holding involved (actually that's ridiculously funny if you know Paulo...or even know OF him....lol) rather he treated me like an athlete throughout.  And that was EXACTLY what I wanted - and needed.  Every week he individualized my program to prepare me to come back.  During a year where I produced absolutely no results for him as I literally clawed my way back there were also two things he said to me throughout that time that I have never forgotten...and also have posted to my fridge next to Silken's advice. Those were:

1.) "Ask yourself if you want to be the survivor that completes an Ironman in the future OR if you want to be the  professional athlete toeing the line for pay checks." 

2.) "We don't try things here, we DO them."

Anyways, on this note I'm looking at the time and there is a swim session that now needs my attention.  Off to DO some more preparation for a 2012 where the very concept of impossible has been ever so patiently waiting...to be defied.   

I can't think of another word other than adaptation to describe what is going on right now.  Although it has been the title of a previous blog, I figure there are no blogging rules that say you can't use the same title on numerous occasions.  So here it is again: Adaptation.

The first time I was "adapting" was in my first squad camp experience in St. George, Utah this past June.  And I was most certainly adapting at that time!  But it was different.  At that time it was largely a mental/emotional adaptation more than it was physical.  I was getting used to new expectations, a new environment, and a new understanding of what being a professional athlete truly entails.

This time around it is more of a physical adaptation taking place.  I've said it before, but I may as well say it again, getting the hardware removed from my tibia was the best decision I've ever made.  I was given run clearance for the second time around a little over a month ago and am now really and truly starting to work my run back to its previous form...but better.

It is quite a process and it's truly fascinating to watch and 'feel' unfold.  My body is adapting and remembering every single day what it is supposed to do.  Because that is what is expected of it.  I'll run and feel aches afterwards, but then the next time I run  the aches are gone. (With help from my amazing therapists!!)  The tight spots are disintegrating every single day. The human body is miraculous.  Truly.     

I know there has been a lot of public speculation about my 'running' after the accident.  I distinctly remember a doctor (who shall remain unnamed) asking me about my 'run times' and how he really didn't see how I would be able to run the way I "used to."  Granted, the run has been the last to develop, but even with the hardware in my ankle when I first started running again, I could literally feel and see that everything was exactly the same...just still in a bit of hibernation mode. 

But with the hardware now out and a run that is now pain free, I'll put it right out there.  I am back to running the majority of my zone 2 (comfortable but concentrated runs) at 3 hour marathon pace.  Fire a bit of speed work and endurance into that equation over the next few months (while factoring in someone who is extremely motivated)....and...I'll let you do the math.  It's all there. 

Don't get me wrong.  I don't advise taking nearly a year off of 'proper' running. It's hard, hard work bringing it back...and I'm just getting some miles in and haven't even started speed work yet!!!!  But whenever it starts to get 'hard' I simply remember how lucky I am.  How much differently this could have all turned out.  How much I appreciate running for the simple act of what it is. 

And...how I am going to make use of every last bit of what has been given back to me.  In more ways than one.    

I was about to say that it has been an interesting month, but really, it has kind of been an interesting year so that's not really saying very much.  But I will say with the mix of having surgery (hardware removed), Ironman Canada, recovery from surgery, getting back on a structured program, and then finally run clearance...there has been a lot that's happened in 4 weeks.

Surgery was, as I mentioned, very successful.  The moment that I woke up and started moving my ankle around I knew that the 'issue' was resolved.  Then when I walked from surgery to my car, I realized it simply felt like a new ankle.  Since then, it has been confirmed by 2 orthopaedic surgeons that the lower screw in my tibia was jutting out slightly from the bone.  This was getting in the way of how my tendon was gliding and causing the pain that I had felt in my "tibialis posterior" since I had been given running clearance back in April.  This was why I was unable to progress to the point where I need to with my running over the last few months, but I had to wait for 8 months after the date of the accident to ensure the bone was healed enough to take the hardware out.  And so, I ran, but I ran in a lot of discomfort and was inhibited from increasing the distance/pace to where I knew it could and should be.  No more.

Recovery moved quickly and as promised, I was back in the pool within 10 days as the incisions had healed over enough.  I was back on the bike within 6 days, although it was the trainer only for the first week.  And for the run?  It was water running.  Until...I got clearance a few days ago.

I had my final set of xrays in this whole 'fiasco' and the orthopaedic surgeon who has overseen them throughout the last 10 months said that my recovery has been "remarkable."  And I won't disagree.  It has been.  I am truly, and will always be, grateful.  He then gave me clearance to start running again as I was now out of the 'danger zone' for a stress fracture.  In my sheer excitement, I left the hospital and went straight to the treadmill to test it out.  It was exactly as I expected.  The pain was gone.  GONE.  I was able to run freely with a familiar cadence that I had never forgotten.  It seems as though I never will.  But I paid the price for my over-zealous behavior that day and it was a stark reminder that my run fitness is lagging right now.  I figure I have a reaonably good excuse.  20 minutes of running and I felt stiffer than I ever have after having completed an Ironman.  So..it seems that my legs remember...but they didn't remember enough not to be stiff! But who's complaining? Pas moi!

And in between the surgery and run clearance was Ironman Canada.  I tried very hard to put on a happy face for it, but it was one of the harder experiences I have had since the accident.  Truly.  That's not to say that it wasn't an incredible week in so many ways, but it was hard.  My heart was breaking to not be a part of the race and when I first walked into the Expo I felt flooded with emotion and had to take a little walk and feel mighty sorry for myself for a few minutes.  But then I was quickly reminded that the sadness I was feeling, was going to make 2012 even that much more special.  And so it will be.  Ironman Canada 2011.  Check.  Survived.  But kudos to everyone who raced, it was great to be able to cheer everyone on...but just don't listen for my cheers next year...because they won't be there...at least from the sidelines:)

And so it continues.  Run clearance.  This time no pain to go along with it.  Paulo has me taking the build back slowly and carefully right now and I am taking some extra time to get my head clear for what I am about to set out to do.  To prepare my mind for what awaits in the near future.  Bringing the run back to form.  It will probably be one of the hardest things I will ever do.  But I have absolutely zero doubt...that it will be the most fulfilling.  Zero doubt.

And in saying this, I have started asking myself again whether I choose to view my comeback as an obstacle or an opportunity.  And it has been decided.  It is the opportunity of a lifetime, and it has come knocking.  So I had  better get going. I hear someone at my door.