Scott Martin
My doctor recently told me I should get a colonoscopy.
My first concern wasn't "Will it hurt?" or "You're gonna stick a camera where?" No, I needed to ensure that this cancer-screening procedure wouldn't cut into my riding time.
This, I think, is what separates cyclists from normal people. Now, I'm no Jim Langley, who once taped a flashlight to his handlebar so he could squeeze in a midnight ride on the first day of his Hawaii vacation in order to keep his daily-ride streak alive. But I probably fall near the middle of cycling's obsessive-compulsive curve.
If you can identify with my tale, you probably do too.
My colonoscopy was scheduled for Tuesday morning. The procedure is fairly painless. You lie on your side, ingest some good drugs, try to ignore what the doc is doing behind you, and watch a 20-minute TV show starring your colon.
The problem is that you pretty much have to fast for 36 hours beforehand, and drink a nasty potion that forces you to become very familiar with the porcelain throne.
So, when to ride? Tuesday's out, because you're either in surgery or recovering. Monday afternoon's out, because you have to be within sprinting distance of the bathroom. That leaves early Monday morning before work, assuming you can (a) ride on an empty stomach, and (b) recover from said ride without eating anything till midday Tuesday.
Well, technically, you can have green or yellow popsicles (no red or purple). Let me just say that popsicles -- many, many popsicles -- will never replace Twinkies as my optimal recovery food.
But I survived and barely missed a workout, so the procedure was a success.
Oh yeah -- I think the doc said something about me not having cancer.
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