It’s been a while, and for good reason. Though my diehard fans and loyal readers have grown rabid during this summer cyclist dry spell, I simply haven’t had the time or the wherewithal to keep up with my previous pace. Last time around, I recounted my experience cycling through the majestic Cascade Range in Central Oregon. It was a journey and a battle that my body had never seen the likes of before. But there’s one thing I neglected to mention about my daring glide around the Bachelor loop — a mysterious knee injury.
About three-fourths of the way to my eventual end point, I noticed a sudden jolt of pain in my upper-right calf, located just below the “knee-pit.” Not only did I have absolutely no intention of letting this sudden burst stagger my progress, but I had no choice but to trudge along. I was in the middle of nowhere, and perhaps overly committed to thrusting myself across an imaginary finish line. The pain lingered for the duration of the ride, but it was the least of my many concerns, including dehydration and a growing layer of wildfire smoke threatening my lungs. But, having sustained many injuries throughout my athletic career and everyday life, I knew this type of tweak meant bad news.
That night and throughout the next couple of days, I consistently iced the tender areas of my leg. A float along the Deschutes River and its cool, refreshing summer temperatures added an extra element to the healing process. At the time, everything seemed okay; I had just completed the ride of my life and the pain was starting to fade. It would soon return.
I know what you’re thinking: writing about film, television and biking for the UO newspaper surely must rake in the big bucks. Not quite. I briefly mentioned my new job last time around, but I hadn’t quite put in the hours to understand exactly how taxing it would turn out to be. For my non-journalistic summer side hustle, I work as a delivery associate for the Aloha Fleet — a brand new Amazon driving dispatch stationed in Hillsboro.
The average work day lasts 10, sometimes 11 exhausting hours. When I’m not being ferociously barked at by territorial dogs or yapped at by the unruly and unpredictable citizens of Forest Grove, Oregon, I’m awkwardly twisting, precariously lifting, jumping or sprinting. I’m talking nearly 300 packages and 150-200 stops per day. It’s safe to say, this is not the best job for nursing a knee injury.
Very quickly, during my first day back after returning from vacation in Sunriver, I felt my knee pain begin to reappear. The constant torsion, swift van departing and heavy lifting had me aching for the better half of each day. My competitive nature forces me to deliver as fast as possible, for no reason other than for fun and to impress my colleagues, making it all the more impossible to rehabilitate my injury. So much so, that it even felt like the soreness was spreading north to my proper knee, and even my lower femur (I have received precisely zero medical support during this time). But with the scattered day off and a lack of any more biking, the pain began to hush up a bit.
Bring on football season. With the ducks playing every weekend — some of the only times when I’m not on the clock — I traveled home to Eugene for the past two Saturdays to watch my football team underperform. For the Boise State game, however, I decided to lug my bike down I-5 and put my knee to the test in its old stomping grounds. On a beautiful pregame afternoon in Eugene, I returned to the iconic West Bank Bike Path along the Willamette River — the route that launched this column. What once felt like a difficult accomplishment now felt like a walk in the park. It was nice to officially confirm that my training was paying off despite taking a bit of a break. Better yet, my knee wasn’t really an issue.
I have since given my two weeks’ notice at work and plan to use the remaining time before school starts to reimmerse myself in the world of cycling. Old favorites like the Banks-Vernonia State Trail are on my dashboard, but I’m excited to try out some new routes — ones that feel similar to the eventual Portland-to-Eugene grand finale.
The pain might still come and go, but I’ve proven to myself I can bike without further complications. As annoying as staying idle for so long might have been, I can’t look back now. It’s September. The time is now.