Rolling news
Regaining the power of the pedal after three months with a broken leg.
A dart of pain shot up from my ankle as I threw my right leg over the crossbar. As my weight settled on the saddle, though, the discomfort melted away. I was terrified to lift my left foot to the pedal, but as I rolled from the front of my house, and started to turn the cranks it was a rare elixir that I inhaled. Bright winter air filled my lungs and the rolling freedom that my bicycle has always provided was bliss.
Little wonder. It is more than two months since I last rode a bicycle.
On 10 October, I slipped on the stairs at home and, although I caught myself on the banisters almost immediately, I somehow caught my left leg behind me. My foot was immediately immobile, within five minutes my ankle was twice its normal size and an hour later an x-ray revealed that I had snapped my fibula – the thinner of the two bones in the lower leg.
A cast was applied and I was instructed to retire to bed for six weeks – ideally with the broken leg resting on a pillowy pile to keep the swelling down. Of course I realise that many people deal with far more serious injuries, and some have to endure serious physical challenges though out their lives. Having always been fortunate with my health, and never having broken a leg before, the privations seemed terrible. I was totally dependent on my family. My ensuite toilet was a painful crawl away. The wonders of modern technology have allowed me to work throughout the bed-bound weeks. But days on end in the same position became unbelievably sore. Depression too was hard to avoid. And anything other than phone contact was out of the question.
I was quite surprised when the cast came off, six weeks to the day after it was applied. “Your break has mended well”, intoned my Doctor. “I am discharging you today”.
Alas the leg that was newly revealed was not the one I remembered. The dead skin that encased it quickly peeled away, but the calf beneath had lost three centimetres in girth. Much worse, though, the joint itself was more throbbingly sore than I can possibly describe. Three weeks on from that day, and walking is still a significant challenge. A 200 yard hobble is possible, but only at half of normal walking speed, and I can’t cope with uneven surfaces or any kind or unexpected challenges to my balance. I still need to sit with my leg up most of the time, and although I can get about buy ambien cheap online under my own steam, I am still most comfortable sitting on top of my bed.
My three mile bike ride, then, was a big adventure. I had tried a couple of brief sessions on a static bike and decided that, weak and painful as my left leg is, the bulk of the work can be done by my right leg.
To move again under my own steam was to enjoy an extraordinary heady rush. It was good to see my neighbourhood as I pedalled round, but it was the experience of rolling along that was like a forgotten favourite taste rediscovered. The unremarkable act of balancing and travelling forwards seemed once more to be miraculous, and the cool air on my face an exquisite caress.
My ride represents the tiniest foothill on a journey back to full use of my leg, not to mention regaining the fitness that has wasted away. But with base camp established, however distant be my destination, at least I have made a start.
So what are the lessons of nine weeks of enforced idleness? One is certainly a much deeper sympathy for anyone else who endures mobility challenges, or ongoing pain. In my capacity as The Sunday Times’ Cycle Doc, I receive dozens of emails from readers whose joints or limbs are, for some reason or other, making cycling difficult. Drawing on a modicum of personal experience, interviews with medics, and various text books, I provide what general advice I can. But I am not a doctor, and even if I were, without the chance to properly examine someone and talk through their issues, it is difficult to proffer anything but generalisations and to strongly advise correspondents to seek out qualified advice.
But much can be learned from the experience of others, so here is what I propose. If you have overcome physical difficulties to return to cycling and you would like to share your experiences, drop me a line. Once I have enough responses, I will tie them together into an article. No amount of sharing will eliminated the need for proper medical attention, of course, but I am certain that there will be countless tips and tricks to get back in the saddle that it is worthwhile sharing.
In the meantime, in intend to enjoy every second my return to proper mobility, however swollen and sore my ankle becomes. I may be some way off the 2000m Alpine climbs that I managed last summer, but for the moment, the satisfaction of completing far more mundane climbs is every bit their equal.