Friday, July 25, 2014

Radio Silence

Sunrise at Cardrona Alpine Resort
My muse has been observing several months of forced radio silence. It’d be nice if this was the result of my hard work on the Great American Novel or my development of the Next Big Thing in Skiing, but neither of those things has been happening or is even likely. No, my lack of writing has been due to a singular focus outside of my day-to-day work: recovery. No, not some far-fetched analogy here, not some carefully woven cultural reference; just the simple, old-fashioned, hard work of recovering from injury.

Six months ago today, I pulled out all the stops and did a really professional job of injuring my knee. Oh yeah, a real humdinger. By the end of March, the injuries that could heal on their own had made good progress and I went under the knife for what was the second ACL reconstruction of my ski career. That was precisely four months ago yesterday. It’s been an interesting four months, and there are a few details worth noting while I rev up my muse to come out of retirement.
I love cryo-cuffs. In a classic piece of ski community empathy and understanding, not one but two of my close friends sent me their cryo-cuffs to use. If you don’t know what a cryo-cuff is, you either have never had a serious knee injury or you don’t know what you were missing when you did. Think knee shaped air cast hooked up to a water cooler and filled with ice cold water. Alex and Martin: you rock!

My surgeon is a rock star. To folks outside the ski industry from the Burlington area (Vermont’s largest city), there isn’t much in the rest of Vermont providing value other than cuteness or dairy products. So, when they asked me about my surgery, they’d ask where I was having it done, expecting that I’d be seeing some surgeon at the world renown teaching hospitals Dartmouth Hitchcock or Fletcher Allen. When I’d tell them I was going to Rutland, they’d balk, shocked. In contrast, ski industry people would ask “Who’s doing your knee?”, “Is Mel Boynton doing your knee?”, or simply “Are you seeing Mel?” Every generation of physician seems to have one standout surgeon for certain types of sports injuries, especially among ski pros. Mel Boynton, practicing in the outstanding Rutland Regional Hospital, is that guy. If he signed his work, an amazing number of pros in Vermont would have his John Hancock on their knees. His staff is excellent, his ability to communicate and provide meaningful care to his patients is terrific, and I’m lucky to have him as my surgeon.
No good can come from responding to work emails the day after major surgery while recovering on the couch and under the influence of narcotics. No more needs to be said on that subject.

Athletes don’t heal faster. Just ask Lindsay Vonn about this little nugget (she should have known better). Muscle mass recovery takes a long time and a lot of hard work, even for folks accustomed to hard physical training, and healing takes time. Period. I will say that the moment when rehab becomes more about putting in the “hard yards”, as they say here in New Zealand, is a wonderful thing. It means that recovery becomes all about the hard work you put into it, and hard work is the easy part. For me, it’s the hard work that keeps me sane when I’m on the long road back.
My physio is the shizzle. I have an excellent physical therapist in Rutland who I’m looking forward to seeing when I get home, but here in Wanaka I’m incredibly fortunate to be working with a woman who is like the Mel Boynton of “physios”. Ginny Rutledge is pretty much a household name here in Wanaka. She’s a world class physio and a progressive and leading expert on injury recovery and prevention, especially among snow sports athletes. As important, working with Ginny constitutes “health care” in the truest sense, and that’s equally true for the carpenters, farmers, professional big mountain skiers, Olympians, and slightly out-of-shape, aging but totally committed ski instructors like yours truly. I’m incredibly fortunate to be able to work with her.

Why this diatribe that may be more like an Academy Award acceptance speech than a blog post of actual value or interest? Because I skied today, that’s why. Four months post-op, I skied for about 90 minutes on some of Cardrona’s well-groomed, wide intermediate runs. I had a close friend with me to set a good pick, to keep it fun and light, and to keep me company (Lin, you rock too!). They weren’t my best turns ever, but they weren’t my worst either. I may have had the invective-laced words of Barb Marshall in my head to make sure my movements were sound and the amount of time I’ve spent in the gym was not in vain, and that may have helped matters. (Yes, Barb’s stuck in my head and I’m lucky for that as well.)
I’ve got a long way to go and a lot of work yet to do, but I know the road ahead, I know where the pitfalls are, and I know what kind of effort a full recovery will take. Skiing a bit today certainly helped make it clearer and will continue to make it a bit more joyful, and that will only increase in the coming weeks.

I hope to write a bit more while I’m here enjoying another winter season in my home away from home in Wanaka, New Zealand. And I promise, I’ll never, ever respond to emails while on pain killers again.

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