Start From Where You Are

"Start from where you are, not where you want to be." is the first bit of advice any personal trainer or physiotherapist worth their salt will give you, and as advice goes, it's about as sound as it gets. It applies both physically and mentally, but of course, it involves a degree of acceptance on your part.

I'm not where I want to be at the moment.

On 10th October 2012, around 9am, I was cycling 16 or so miles to work at a school in Narberth. It was a wet morning, much like most of 2012, and my route took me through Canaston Woods, a large, densely wooded hilly area. Coming down a slight incline, I crossed a small bridge at the bottom, touched my back brake and BAM! I was on the deck, so fast I'd no idea what had happened. There had been a very loud crack, which I assumed was my helmet hitting something. Slowly, I gathered myself together and tried to stand up. I couldn't. Something was seriously wrong. I heard a girl's voice asking if I was OK, and without thinking or even looking round I replied "No, I'm not OK. I think my arm is broken." She came over to me and helped me up, and I recognised her as a runner I had passed a mile or so back, and had wished her a good morning. She helped me gather my bike, bottles, and panniers together and very kindly walked with me into Narberth, about 2 miles along a footpath, pushing my bike the whole way, and talking to me the whole time. I didn't have the school's number in my phone, so I phoned my boss and told her what had happened. As luck would have it she was nearby and was able to drop what she was doing and come to pick up both me and my bike, dropping me at A&E some 10 miles away, and taking my bike home for me. (The bike, by the way, was fine.)

I didn't need x-rays to tell me I'd broken my left wrist, I'd broken the same wrist in the same place when I was around 17 years old, some 36 years previous. It felt just the same. After a day of having the bones manipulated back into place and set in a cast, I was allowed home. There would, I was relieved to hear, be no need for surgery, for pins, screws, bolts or plates. Phew.

Now, over 3 months later, it's not so phew. The wrist has knitted together "as well as we could expect", but is visibly crooked. It won't bend backwards at all. There is constant tingling in my fingers. Painkillers make no odds. I take Tramadol at night to help with sleep, and Amitriptyline to try and dull the nerve pain in my hand. I have physiotherapy sessions once a week, only this week's was cancelled due to it falling on Boxing Day. I'm waiting for tests on my median nerve. I'm told the tests are "basic". They won't happen in a hurry. By the time I've had them done, I'll know if the nerve is getting better on its own.

Over on the other side of my body, I have pain in my upper arm in which no-one is interested. It impairs movement quite a lot, as does the ongoing pain in my wrist. Getting out of the bath is a real test, and I'm amazed I haven't slipped and done myself further mischief.

I've been off my bike for over 3 months, one of the longest times ever.

A friend loaned me a turbo trainer, which I set up in the living room. I've used it once in 6 weeks. There was nowhere I could put my left hand on the bars which was comfortable. I fitted aero bars. I can ride like that, but I still need to use my brakes occasionally. I've just fitted flat bars.

2013 was to be the year that I did some truly mammoth rides. Audax UK runs the London-Edinburgh-London ride every 4 years, and this is the year. A friend in Holland has invited me over at Easter to ride a 400km cycle route with him. I'd planned on riding from Pembrokeshire to Harwich en route. I've just received my "Mileater Diary", as my total mileage for next year was destined to be pretty awesome, yet now it looks like I won't be on my bike for some months yet.

I'm not where I want to be.