Limping Home

I spent a few days not cycling to let the strained calf muscle heal, and taking multivitamins to try and redress any electrolyte imbalance that could have been causing the cramps. Prior to this episode on the road I had noted several instance in my diary when I had been woken through the night by sharp cramps in my calf muscles, and thought it possible the long spell of very hot weather in the UK could have triggered heat-related issues. At last, though, I felt ready to get back in the saddle, and began short local trips of perhaps half an hour.

 

I set out today on the third such trip, this time intending to go a bit further, and was happily pedalling at a steady pace through the lanes towards home after perhaps forty minutes, when I felt a steady bumping from the back wheel, typical of a puncture. I glanced down but saw no sign of a flat tyre and wondered briefly if I was being fooled by irregularities in the rough surface, but the bumping was regular and slowed when I did, so I hopped off, and saw this.

I deflated the tyre and popped the bead back in, pumped up the tyre again, and walked along for a few years until I found a high enough verge for an easy mount. However, within a few pedal strokes, there was the thump again, and when I stopped and looked, I saw the same behaviour in the identical spot on the wheel.

There was nothing else but to walk the Pedersen home, and here I came across another strange problem. After a few hundred yards, I was hobbling and limping. Glancing down, I saw that my right foot was splayed out at almost 45 degrees, and seemed beyond my control. I switched sides and walked the Pedersen with it to my left, and to my relief my right foot behaved itself, and the left foot didn’t try to misbehave. Up till then I had been faced with the prospect of having to phone up my partner and ask her to come and get me, as the tyre problem precluded even standing on a pedal and scootering along to favour a dodgy foot.

 

Once home I popped the tyre off the rim and fitted the new spare, after examining the rim closely but finding nothing in the location of the pop-out to explain the problem, and indeed, I couldn’t detect anything obvious such as a broken bead wire in the tyre, but it was quite old, and the back tyre takes more punishment than the front due to the squirming effect caused by pedalling stresses.

 

As I was in maintenance mode I also decided to close up the rear brakes, because the gap I had allowed in the rear brake blocks to allow easy removal and refitting of the wheel had grown such that I could almost close the brake lever to the handlebars. I halved the gap, re-tightened the clamp screw, and gave a test pull on the rear brake lever. The cable snapped instantly, about an inch from the barrel ferrule where it locked into the brake lever. I had another rummage for the spares I had taken around Scandinavia all those years ago, and replaced a 32-year old cable with a 32-year old spare.

 

Injury time

I’ve managed to get over the end of the Tour de France and stop muttering to myself about “going deep into the red” while plodding up the hills. In fact, I’ve changed both my riding style and the routes as a result of an interesting discovery. With the smaller chainrings and consequent lower gearing, I was spinning the pedals faster, and as a result changed from my plodding type of riding style to more of a pushing one. I then changed the routes to avoid the steeper climbs where I would still have to drop to the smallest chainring because it had become a game to see if I could do all the journey on just the middle chainring. This then resulted in my pedalling harder up the easier slopes, and also pedalling harder on the flat.

All these journeys were admittedly short ones, lasting an hour at most, and I have a feeling that when I go back to doing three or four hour rides I will have to return to my plodding pace simply as a way of getting around the route without succumbing to fatigue. I was considering a longish ride tomorrow, but a little episode at a crossroads this morning might have put paid to that.

I arrived at the give-way lines hearing a car coming from somewhere to my right, but had to get right up to the lines in order to be able to see it and assess whether I could safely go across and wheel right, and when I did spot the car I could see at once it would be too close for comfort if I continued, so I dropped my left toe to the ground as I pulled on the brakes. I felt an almost immediate cramp in my left calf muscle, but gritted my teeth and as the car passed, trod on the right pedal. However, when the left pedal rose to the top and I tried to push down on it, the pain in my calf muscle flared up so badly that I wasn’t able to complete the move, and wobbled crazily across the road, shaking the handlebars from side to side to get enough momentum to reach the high earth bank opposite.

I still had to drop my left foot to support myself and the pain was excruciating for a couple of minutes, until I felt it subside enough for me to try again. The crossroads was at a crest so that once I had enough speed for the Pedersen to stabilise I could roll and just move the pedals slowly around until I felt the pain easing. I experimented  with my left leg and found I could get enough push onto the pedal if I shuffled the foot forwards and backwards rather then pressing down, and began to plan for a return home under my own power. My plan B would have been to call for help and then dismantle the Pedersen’s wheels in order to fit it into my partner’s car if I wasn’t able to walk or scoot along.

The change in routes to avoid dropping down to the lowest chainring meant I could at least get home without having to labour up the long climb, and by the time I had used up all the descending slope and reached the straight I was able to pedal cautiously, and even found the activity easing the pains.

I made it home, and then because “A Voyage for Madmen” had arrived in the post, sat down to read and rest. That, in hindsight, might have been a mistake, because when I went to stand up again, my left leg was once more crippled with cramps and I was forced to hop to the kitchen for more coffee, and then rather unwisely, hopped back again, losing a fair bit of liquid before reaching the chair.

I am going to have to get shoes with longer toes, or drop the Pedersen’s saddle another half-inch, or else find out just what dietary deficiency is giving me these leg cramps. For about three weeks now I’ve woken up in bed with cramps, and assumed it was dehydration due to the hot weather.

I know a lot of the problems I experience at junctions is due to the Pedersen’s saddle and strap configuration making it impossible to perform a normal touch-down, and I realise I’ve been getting lazy about learning better mount and dismount methods, so once I’m recovered from this latest little annoyance I will have to teach myself better start and stop procedures. I’m loath to drop the saddle further, since the higher I sit, the greater the force I can exert on the pedals, and where I am located, getting up the hills is the key to getting anywhere at all.