Recovery Week

It's my recovery week, and I couldn't be happier.
 
Ever since Janice bumped up my training levels based on my last field test, I've been feeling the effects of each week of training like never before as she slowly ramps up the intensity. That'll teach me to put in an honest effort.
 
However, every 4th week she takes it down a notch and gradually I don't hurt so much anymore. My calves don't feel like someone's been punching them for a month straight. I start to look forward to pushing it again. That's when she starts beating me up again.
 
"Man, you really look pretty worn down. Here, let me help you up..."
Whack!
 
I'm like Charlie Brown trying to kick a football. I can see it coming every time, and know without a shadow of a doubt that she'll pull the ball away at the last minute, but for some reason I still get a running start hoping this time will be different. It never is.
 
That said, efforts that I found somewhat difficult a month ago are now well within my wheelhouse. I'm getting stronger, and I see it as a small part of Janice's evil plan to create a master race of superhuman cyclists with sore calves. We'll crush the lesser beings under our cleated soles, even if we're hobbling as we do it.
 
Until that glorious day, I can only look forward to each recovery week during my transformation into an Übermensch. In the spirit of Nietzsche, I offer the following quotes taken completely out of context: 

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger."
"Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent."

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