There has been so much going on lately that I really have no clue know where to start. I guess it would make the most sense to begin in chronological order.
At the Huntsville XC races on 6/16, I suffered a moment of Busch-League stupidity. During the three-mile race, I was pacing with racers ahead of me, zoned out mentally, and temporarily ignored rule number one of trail running: don't get lazy with your stride. My shoe caught a root and I went FLYING -- landing on my left quad, hip, and shoulder. With my back issues, I've had to "learn" to fall this way to protect my back. As a result, my left quad was toast. The shoulder and hip soreness worked its way out a couple of days later, but my quad still is not right. If you follow me on Strava or Garmin Connect, this is why my running numbers are so low. For some reason, the quad does not bother me at all while cycling.. It's odd.
Fast forward almost a week and my back had been intermittently locking up on me. I knew it was time for yet another epidural. On June 23rd, my back finally went on full lock down and sentenced me to the bed all day.
This wasn't "that" bad considering that my epidural was scheduled for the next day! So, June 24th was the magic date for epidural #13.
June 25th hit me like a freight train. I received news that my grandfather had passed away. He lived outside of Gulfport, Mississippi -- the city where I was born. Due to the distance between us, we were not able to see each other very often. We always had a great time when we were able to arrange a visit.
Grandpa and my daughter shortly after her birth
Grandpa and my daughter shortly after her birth
Even though my Grandpa was a Type-I diabetic, nobody had a clue that he was "sick". From my understanding, he had a touch of the flu, went to bed, and never woke up. Even if he was really sick, most people would never know it -- Grandpa never was a complainer about how he felt. It actually brings me peace to know that he went painlessly in his sleep and did not have to suffer.
My Grandpa was a good, kind-hearted man who loved kids, sailing his boat, playing golf, relaxing, and smiling; his smile was contagious. My best memories with him are either when he took me out sailing on his boat when I was a kid or playing golf with him when I was an adult. I will miss him dearly.
The Fayetteville Firecracker Chase 10.2 mile race on June 27th was supposed to be a goal race for me. Between losing my Grandpa, the quad injury significantly impacting my training, my back lockdown, and spinal epidural, I had ZERO desire to even go. To be honest, my wife had to kick me in the ass a few times to convince me to go race. I cannot say that I am glad that I did, but I went and did the best that my body and mind would allow.
Fayetteville Firecracker Chase Elevation Map
I really wanted to quit after the first mile, but I had too many voices in my head screaming at me to keep going and not quit. When my quad became too painful to run continuously about mile 5-6, I switched to the Galloway method and started doing intervals to finish up. This was also when I made a conscious effort to stop, thank all of the volunteers, and shake their hands. I'm not going to post my exact time -- it's indifferent. My true time is on Strava and the most important thing that I finished the race despite all of the circumstances.
After all of the week's events, I needed to get lost for a little while on Sunday and take a ride to remember my Grandpa and incorporate his rules: go out for a while, find somewhere scenic, relax, and take some time to smell the roses. I decided on an 86 mile ride through several areas I had never ridden through. It was a very therapeutic and relaxing, but it could not possibly replace a genuinely great man.
View from Butler Mill
Ten miles outside of Cathedral Caverns
Entrance to Cathedral Caverns -- about 50 miles from Home
Ride Elevation Map