New Life in My Old Legs

May 28, 2018

My leg hurt only when I walked, never while I was cycling, even when I was pushing hard on Skyline Boulevard along the hilly ridge west of downtown Portland. So how could cycling be the reason why I limped, even when walking a few steps from my condo door to the coffee shop at the foot of the stairs? My doctor, younger than I and an active road cyclist, named my problem. “You’ve developed an IT band syndrome.”

He showed me a couple of stretches and recommended massaging my legs on a foam roller. Although the limp eased a little, the pain was still a problem. My reading confirmed his diagnosis and his recommendations. I tried, but with little enthusiasm, to do what the experts recommended. I joined a fitness center and signed on with a personal trainer. Now and then, I enjoyed the pleasure of a massage. I tried a yoga class that a neighbor recommended, but the teacher was oriented toward middle-aged housewives rather than to an old-man bicyclist and I dropped out after half a dozen sessions.

About two years into this story, both legs were sore and the one on the left side began to hurt while I was cycling. Two more years, and I had to give up multi-day, long-mileage bike trips. The time had come to consult a sports medicine doctor. He listened to my tale of grief and, pushed, pulled, and thumped my legs. After watching me walk a little, he confirmed and augmented the previous diagnosis: tenderness of the left iliotibial and left piriformis muscle systems.

The good news: these conditions could be overcome and I could look forward to restored capabilities for walking and the aggressive cycling that had been my practice.

He assigned me to a physical therapist who would tell me what I needed to do and oversee my compliance. She watched me walk, studied my limp, and showed me six routines to stretch or strengthen muscles. “Do two sets each twice a day, and come back on Friday.” On the second visit, she corrected my stretches, added two more, and in a firm tone of voice gave one more instruction (perhaps command is the right word): “If you want to recover the ability to ride the way you used to, you have to cut back on your cycling now!

That’s when the serious conversation began. I explained that cycling was my primary mode of personal transportation and that I took vigorous long rides every week in order to stay in condition for aggressive open-road cycling. “I try to ride seventy-five miles a week,” I concluded.

She acknowledged that this pattern was more aggressive than she had expected, and we worked out a plan that seemed reasonable to both of us. My personal transportation rides could continue. She also agreed to my Monday ride—twenty-two miles on level city streets, with a pastry break at the Illinois Street Emporium. “But if you want your injury to heal, you have to slow down. And don’t push. Avoid hard climbs!”

Injury. This as the word that caught my attention. No one else had said that an injury was causing the pain. My mood suddenly changed, and I was willing to work with greater diligence in the healing therapy she was prescribing. A long, cold Indiana winter became my ally. Snow on the ground and nasty wind in the air all around made it easy to adhere to the limits she had imposed.

Six months later, the limp has disappeared. The chronic pain has become an occasional twitch in my left knee, especially when I twist it awkwardly while sitting at my desk or turning over during the night. It may be too early to say that the injury is healed, but my sense of well-being as a vigorous open-road cyclist is returning.

Now comes a new challenge: to develop a disciplined process of adding miles and increasing intensity. For two weeks in a row, I have logged my former average of seventy-five miles a week, and have taken days off so that the strengthening process can continue. One day last week, I felt the old push. Even when my legs were tired, something about my union with my bicycle urged me forward at a more rapid pace. I could believe that old times would soon be here again.

It will take time, perhaps all summer, for healing the injury to be completed, but I can feel it coming:

New life in my old legs! Hurray!

 


A Civilization Built on Slavery

May 18, 2018

Responding to Ebony & Ivy: Race, Slavery, and the Troubled History of America’s Universities, by Craig Steven Wilder (New York: Bloomsbury Press, 2013.

In the final paragraph of the prologue to Ebony and Ivy, Craig Steven Wilder makes a statement that could be looked upon as his thesis: “American colleges were not innocent or passive beneficiaries of conquest and colonial slavery. The European invasion of the Americas and the modern slave trade pulled peoples throughout the Atlantic world into each other’s lives, and colleges were among the colonial institutions that braided their histories and rendered their fates dependent and antagonistic. The academy never stood apart from American slavery—in fact, it stood beside church and state as the third pillar of a civilization built on slavery” (p. 11).

The portion of the Americas that this book treats is the eastern seaboard of North America, from New England through Georgia, the West Indies, and the eastern-most sections of the country across the mountains in Kentucky, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. The civilization discussed in the book was essentially English-speaking, Christian, Protestant (with strong rivalries between Puritan and Anglican colonies), and white. The academies included virtually all within this territory that were founded prior to the beginning of the Civil War: among them the most prestigious, including Harvard, Yale, and Princeton; some that became state universities, including University of Virginia and University of North Carolina; and smaller colleges such as Amherst, Dartmouth, Washington and Lee, and Transylvania.

Wiley mentions Hanover, a church college in Indiana close to the Ohio River, noting that its president was a slaveholder and that in 1836, when an antislavery association had begun meeting on campus, the trustees declared that it was “incompatible with the culture of the school [and] opposed by ‘at least nine-tenths of the students associated with the institution’” (p. 268).  The enslaved people whom Wiley discusses were primarily persons of African descent, but he gives some attention to the place of Native Americans in his historical account. He also shows that until late in the 1700s owning and working slaves was commonplace among northern and middle Atlantic academics and clergy (including John Cotton, Increase and Cotton Mather, Ezra Styles, Jonathan Edwards, and John Witherspoon).  Read more Ebony & Ivy