I took my time getting back to activity after covid. Fortunately, I didn't really have any symptoms. I did the full quarantine for a bit, then got out for some walks. Then I started to go for easy bike rides and runs. I kept busy sorting through my old Lego bin, pulling out parts and building long lost sets from the mixture. It was time consuming enough that it kept me distracted. But I really wanted to see where I was at fitness wise because I wanted to get back to riding up mountains.
I've never really taken a long break from training that was enough to notice a drop in fitness. I've also tried to avoid pushing myself really hard while sick, hard enough that I would see how much the sickness has taken out of me. I have never found myself saying "that sickness/work trip/family trip took 10 Watts off my FTP!".
I was starting at my bottom. This wasn't a matter of some breathing obstruction disappearing. I had few red blood cells. But you have to start somewhere, so I did a ramp test. The result was about 80% of my pre-chemotherapy number. Not too bad, probably similar to the average recreational rider out on the trails. But the mountain was daunting. It was late April and if I wanted to get back to my pre-cancer levels to crush some big rides and runs by the end of August, I would need an improvement of 5W per week, 20W per month. Breaking it down like this made it seem unrealistic and impossible.
In Edmonton, the maximum height difference in the river valley is about 40m. It's not a lot to work with and serious racers only get their fix of high intensity by sprinting up them in under 1 minute. If I wanted to ride easier, I had previously been able to sit and spin up them, even if it took 2-3 minutes, it wasn't long enough to make me hurt. Now, that 2-3 minutes was pushing me over my threshold. It was eerily nostalgic of my earlier days cycling and something that a lot of recreational riders feel. It made me appreciate all of the training that I have done that has allowed me to not have to suffer up every climb. It seems weird that recreational riders are afraid of a little voluntary intensity, otherwise known as "training", and just accept that every hill they encounter will make their legs hurt!
I was at the level of the average recreational rider, but I was lacking endurance. Before, I would be able to ride at an easy for me pace for over 1 hour with little more than water and a couple of cookies. Now, I was bonking after an hour and those cookies weren't going to save me. Going for a ride now meant bringing more snacks! It was nice to encounter friends who had heard of my battle and encouraged me. Thanks for all of the messages!
I used to be able to go into a weekend, guns a blazing. Now, I had to stick to the plan, just making sure that I was putting in the right amount of hard work. Now was not the time to focus on the summits, because they wouldn't be anything spectacular at this point, but the process. All I cared about was getting back to my previous levels.
In May and June, I was actually able to manage to improve at about 5W per week. Week by week, I didn't seem to be making that kind of progress, but with regular periods of rest, my body was able to recover and produce those extra watts the next week. In early June, I was starting to feel strong again. I was the only one to complete 2 laps of the upper deck of Commonwealth Stadium (The Gristle) with the November Project, and I had a wonderful day where I ran up Opal Ridge in the morning, then cycled up to Highwood Pass in the afternoon. By Canada day weekend, I found myself back to being able to put in some solid days in the mountains. I finally felt like I was back in my element.
Then my progress stalled. I was still at least 5% short of where I was. But I was able to complete a goal that had been on my plate for a while: I ran the 55km Rockwall Trail. After a couple of years without races over the pandemic, this was the first day in a while to really take a lot out of me. It would take weeks to fully recover from, but it was so worth it.
In the fall, I experienced another setback: Reynauds syndome. My fingers and toes would go numb and white when experiencing slightly cold weather. It puts things into perspective because it is worse than not being as fast. I had to buy heated socks and mitts. I have to be careful going outside in the cold. It has taken away some enjoyment of winter.
It has been difficult to progress above the plateau. I was comparing myself to my previous all time cycling numbers, but these were from the pandemic, when I had little comparison to previous running and skiing performances at the same time. I was always a little hesitant to compare to my previous mountain running or skiing performances because I can't do such a test during an evening after work in Edmonton. I have to use one of my weekend days to test in the mountains. While I have been able to get within 5% on the bike, I seem to be a little further out on the run, especially with shorter efforts.
Typically, the Christmas break is a time when I can string together a bunch of really good skiing days to prepare for the rest of the skimo season. Unfortunately, this year the ski conditions were not very inspiring over Christmas and I felt I wasn't able to ski confidently or frequently enough. Conditions improved by the time I took my winter vacation later in February and I was able to put in some back to back days more characteristic of myself pre-chemotherapy. These days gave me the confidence that I lacked going into the later part of the race season.
Aside from some midweek bike and running races, my return to competition would be with ski mountaineering. It was 3 years since I last raced. The level of competition has increased since I last raced and I find myself in some deeper battles. I qualified for World Championships, but after lengthy contemplation, I declined because I wasn't feeling it. I wasn't feeling like I was downhill skiing very good yet. I wasn't feeling confident that I would have the ability to survive the back to back days of competition. Lastly, I wasn't feeling like I had the ability to launch myself into uncharted territory: to improve on my previous world championships results to race in the groups that are normally ahead. Instead, I would be in familiar territory and I didn't see the point.
The last races of the season went well at Steep Dreams and Marmot's Revenge. I capped off the season with a win in the vertical and a hard fought 2nd in the individual at Marmot's Revenge.
After successful treatment by chemotherapy, a 5 year monitoring process begins. In the first year, there are CT scans or chest x-rays along with blood tests for the tumour markers every 2 months. As the years go on, the frequency decreases. A failed test could mean additional chemotherapy is required, likely a different, more unpleasant treatment because the cancer was able to beat the first treatment. At the beginning, I was struggling to envision myself committing to any trips or long term goals, instead focusing on making the most out of more local adventures. Now I feel a little more willing to plan ahead, though I would prefer to ideally squeeze everything into the growing gaps between tests.
Before starting treatment, I had a phone call with another cancer survivor and he said "your body won't be the same, but that's ok". I ignored and still continue to ignore this while believing I will return to my best.
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