“I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within us.” – Lillian Smith
I knew my knees were not great. Running was a key part of my training for these races. Running a long time. Afterwards my knees would be quite sore inside where the bones from my upper and lower leg interact.
I run in Spartan obstacle course races. In April I ran a Spartan Sprint. Last year Tanner got me to run Spartan races in the Elite class with him. Not because I was an Elite runner, but because when he finished, cold and wet and tired, he didn’t want to wait around for me to roll up hours later in the Open Class where I might start a couple hours after him and finish maybe three hours after he did.
I went to this race in Massachusetts alone on a gray morning. At 7 am I took off in the Elite class, getting to the top of the first hill dead last. But, like ‘the little engine that could’, I started passing guys who fired all their energy off too soon. At each obstacle I passed guys doing their 30 burpees for not completing the obstacle. I tried to use my head in these races and learned the obstacle techniques over many races, and I did not fail any of them. I would never be the fastest, but maybe being smart with my abilities would make up for a good measure of my physical limitations.
I finished in the middle of the Elite class and inside the top 3% of all 6000 runners for the weekend. While my knees weren’t impressed, I was feeling very good about my fitness for the upcoming race season.
Three days after the successful Baja 500 race in June I ran a 5K race in the woods. It was going great until near the end I felt something wrong in my right knee. I limped across the finish line. “It’ll be better in a few days” I thought. A few days passed and it was not better – it was worse. A few more days and a couple weeks…no improvement.
I could not run or squat at the gym. How could I work out? In Baja, the limiting factor is your body. The next race, the Tijuana Challenge was in 90 days. I went to a knee specialist and got an MRI. It was a torn meniscus. I scheduled surgery for July 3. Would I have time to recover? I did not know.
Luckily, it was the longest break between races of the season and I was injured at the beginning of that break. Ten days after the surgery I was in the gym. “I’ll go easy” I said. It was probably premature, (maybe stupid), but I needed to try to balance my knee getting better with losing my edge that I had worked so long and hard for.
Two weeks before the race I had my doubts if my knee would be healed enough. Would the race destroy my knee if it was too soon and kill my Baja 1000 bid?
There is no negotiating with Baja. None.
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” –E. H. Chapin
You are a rock star in that world Larry. In ours too.
Your strategy reminds me of the two bulls standing on the hilltop, looking down and surveying the field of cows. The young bull says, “Let’s run down there and get a cow!” The wise old bull says, “Let’s walk down and get ’em all.” Anxiously awaiting Chapter Seven!
I loved these stories they help me get through my day. This is the best story I have ever heard and so inspirational. Keep doing this you help me get through my day.