A Case of the I Don't Wannas
It happens every year.
When I finally am released from the trainer dungeon and can ride on actual pavement, my hours on the bike take a big jump. While the number of hours I'm actually riding is fairly pedestrian, an increase of 30-50% takes a bit for the body to get used to. I rarely ease into it during my annual spring euphoria, and eventually it gets to the point that the body cries uncle. This spring, thanks to the sinus infection, that point came a little earlier. It's not that I don't want to ride. I really do. It's just my body takes a bit more convincing.
Yesterday I had to ease into my ride, bargaining with my body that if it would get out there and turn over the pedals, we wouldn't have to push all that hard. I started slowly, then worked my way into a sustainable effort, instead of my usual, counterproductive hammering from the gun. It seemed to work, and although that overall physical sense of "meh" returned later that night, at least I got out there and enjoyed myself. When nobody's paying you to abuse yourself, you need to at least have a little fun.
I'll hit it again today, back off tomorrow, and then see where I stand for Saturday. If I decide to skip it, it won't be the end of the world. It's not my favorite course, and while I do need the intensity, I don't need to destroy my health to get it.
I will say that this illness and extra mileage have finally kick-started my weight loss plan. I'm not sure I'd intentionally get sick just to kill my appetite lose a few pounds, but at this point fatty will take what he can get. As long as I don't bounce back with a vengeance tonight at the Mighty Mite end-of-season banquet (an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet), I might be able to keep this train rolling for a little while. If I can bring the bulk down to somewhere in the neighborhood of where it was a couple years back, I'll be overjoyed. The same effort hurts a lot less when you drop 10 pounds, although you usually end up pushing that much harder until the pain levels equalize.
Wasn't it Greg LeMond who said, "It doesn't get any easier, you just buy a lot more stuff you don't really need in an ill-fated attempt to make up for the fact that you're a fatty that is not at all suited for this sport"?
...or something like that.
When I finally am released from the trainer dungeon and can ride on actual pavement, my hours on the bike take a big jump. While the number of hours I'm actually riding is fairly pedestrian, an increase of 30-50% takes a bit for the body to get used to. I rarely ease into it during my annual spring euphoria, and eventually it gets to the point that the body cries uncle. This spring, thanks to the sinus infection, that point came a little earlier. It's not that I don't want to ride. I really do. It's just my body takes a bit more convincing.
Yesterday I had to ease into my ride, bargaining with my body that if it would get out there and turn over the pedals, we wouldn't have to push all that hard. I started slowly, then worked my way into a sustainable effort, instead of my usual, counterproductive hammering from the gun. It seemed to work, and although that overall physical sense of "meh" returned later that night, at least I got out there and enjoyed myself. When nobody's paying you to abuse yourself, you need to at least have a little fun.
I'll hit it again today, back off tomorrow, and then see where I stand for Saturday. If I decide to skip it, it won't be the end of the world. It's not my favorite course, and while I do need the intensity, I don't need to destroy my health to get it.
I will say that this illness and extra mileage have finally kick-started my weight loss plan. I'm not sure I'd intentionally get sick just to kill my appetite lose a few pounds, but at this point fatty will take what he can get. As long as I don't bounce back with a vengeance tonight at the Mighty Mite end-of-season banquet (an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet), I might be able to keep this train rolling for a little while. If I can bring the bulk down to somewhere in the neighborhood of where it was a couple years back, I'll be overjoyed. The same effort hurts a lot less when you drop 10 pounds, although you usually end up pushing that much harder until the pain levels equalize.
Wasn't it Greg LeMond who said, "It doesn't get any easier, you just buy a lot more stuff you don't really need in an ill-fated attempt to make up for the fact that you're a fatty that is not at all suited for this sport"?
...or something like that.
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