Every Day is an Evaluation.

Every movement has to be evaluated. How will that affect the shoulder? How much will it hurt? Can I do it another way? Can I have one of the kids do it?
 
I'm not renowned for super-human levels of empathy, but I have new respect for those that deal with far worse conditions every day. Don't worry, that new understanding will fade as I heal. Douchebag tendencies don't change that quickly.
 
Every morning involves a period of time relaxing whatever tension developed during the night as my body tried to protect my shoulder as I slept. I don't think I'm going through any strange contortions in my sleep. I just think that sort of thing just develops over time. I'm usually fine once I find a neutral position and the Motrin and Lidocaine patch kick in.
 
Then I kit up and get on the computer to see what happened in the world of cycling and MyFace while I was in a Percocet-induced coma. When the stream of internet entertainment is exhausted, I climb on the bike.
 
Every day the trainer is a big question mark. How hard can I go? How much can I push it without hurting myself? So far it's been going pretty well. I've seen a steady improvement in various areas that has provided a mental boost that has even managed to cut through the dull pain and opioid haze.
 
Average power isn't bad day-to-day. My peak power, something that drops significantly on the trainer, is down by around 400 watts. This isn't surprising, since all-in efforts are something I'm hesitant to commit to at this point. My training load, which dropped significantly during the three days between the accident and the first ride on the trainer has leveled off. All promising signs.
 
Still, I start each workout with the big question mark. I really don't want to go too far. Get too enthusiastic, and the shoulder might take a hit. Run myself down too much, and the healing could be slowed. Each day I dip my toe in the water and go from there. So far the water is just fine, and I'd like to keep it that way.
 
The remainder of the racing season is blown. Without a clear target, I've just been focusing on maintaining fitness for my trip down to Mississippi in September. Two months of extremely flat riding on the Gulf Coast. Maybe I'll steal all of the highway overpass KOMs while I'm down there. Then again, that would require me actively using Strava, so that seems unlikely.
 
Instead, I'm going to log a whole lot of miles. I'm going to roll into trainer season with a ton of base in the can. Hopefully I can lose a few pounds in the land of deep-fried salads, but no promises. Mainly I'm going to ride until I grind my lady parts off, if only to delay the realization that, "fuck, I'm in Mississippi".
 
It's something to work towards.

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