I get knocked down, but I get up again

Why yes, I did just reference the chorus of Chumbawumba's massive hit song, "Tubthumping."  Thank you for noticing!  I chose this particular song because it seems to pop into my head at my most ungraceful athletic moments; sorry to disappoint you if you were, perhaps, expecting stories of overindulgence.  Maybe another time :-)

When the song was released way back in the late 90s, it was nothing but a fun party song.  One day, during a van ride to a game somewhere in Western PA, it came on the radio.  My college basketball coach turned around and said "Super, this song always makes me think of you."  And then she laughed.  She was, of course, referring to the countless times I ended up on the floor on the court during the course of a game or at practice.  My teammates used to joke that I fell simply to get a rest from running up and down the floor - completely untrue, by the way.  Every time I ended up on the floor, my brain would launch into a rendition of the chorus "I get knocked down, but I get up again/Ain't never gonna keep me down."

Fast forward [gasp!] 10 years.  I am in Seattle, Washington, running my 1st marathon as a part of Team In Training.  I felt good - a little cold, but good - and was running along at a decent pace, enjoying the crowds and cheers.  As I was looking to my right for a glimpse of Lake Washington, a fellow runner crossed right in front of me to shoot the gap and pass some of us slower runners.  Before I knew what happened, my foot shuffled and kicked the dinner plate sized reflective plate on the center line, and BOOM!  Down I went.  I fell hard, and it hurt really, really badly.  I was embarrassed, and got to my feet as quickly as I was able, hoping that no one had noticed.  No such luck - there was a huge TNT cheering section there, as well as some of our awesome coaches.  They asked if I was okay, and I waved them off with a smile, saying "I'm fine, don't worry about me!"  I refused to cry, even though there was a hole in my sleeve and a big cut on my left elbow.  I simply counted steps as I softly sang "I get knocked down, but I get up again/Ain't never gonna keep me down."

Spring ahead another 2 and a half years to present day.  A couple of weeks ago I went to Panama City Beach, Florida, for a beach weekend.  I was excited, not only to see my family, but also to get in some solid training on the famous IM FL (Ironman Florida) course.  I had mapped out my routes and carefully double checked to see that I had all of my gear, and I headed north west.

Saturday morning I was up before the sun, and I prepared for my planned 32 mile bike ride.  I was not familiar with the roads, but Panama City Beach is much like Clearwater Beach - the most dangerous thing in the area are the tourists trying to drive.

At one point, the bike lane dissipated, and I was forced to ride the white line and pray that the early morning drivers were paying more attention to the road than to their coffee and donuts.  A car whizzed by me, shaking my confidence slightly, and when I looked down to see if I could move over to the right a little more, my front tire caught the lip of the road, and BOOM!  I crashed.  It happened fast - maybe a few seconds, total.  I was lucky, though, because it was happening in slow motion in my mind, which gave me time to react properly.  I couldn't stop the fall, but as soon as I hit the ground, I unclipped my feet, glanced over my left shoulder to see if there was oncoming traffic and hurriedly pulled myself and my bike out of the road up onto the sidewalk.    And there it was, blaring through my brain "I get knocked down, but I get up again/Ain't never gonna keep me down."

It has now been two weeks since my bike crash.  I was a wimp for the first week, babying my cut and trying not to irritate it any further than was necessary.  But then a funny thing happened.  I was driving to our new house, impatiently flipping through incessant talking by every radio DJ on air, and I heard it on 92.9.... "I get knocked down, but I get up again/Ain't never gonna keep me down."  

Something clicked as I sang aloud, and I realized that I needed to get back on my bike, and soon.  Miami Man was 3 months away - I couldn't afford to sit in the house any longer.  Saturday I went for a run with Team In Training.  The sweat stung, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared.  Sunday I met a couple of friends for my first bike ride since the fall.  I was a bit nervous, but a couple of miles in felt as though I hadn't missed a step.  My arm did not feel fantastic, but it held up for a 42 mile ride.  I knew then that I was ready, that there was nothing stopping me except for my fear.

This past week I have rode and ran, but have avoided the pool.  I know the heavily chlorinated water is going to sting, but if I don't get in soon, I am seriously jeopardizing my success in Miami.  There are people counting on me to finish that race - my TEAMmates, my coach, my supporters, myself.  While this is a huge personal achievement, I do not do this for myself.  I do this for every person that has been affected by cancer; I train and race to fund the research that will one day find a cure for cancer.

"I get knocked down, but I get up again/Ain't never gonna keep me down."

And so I run. . . .