Following the Plan.

As promised, at the first glimmer of recovery I jumped on the bike and tried to reverse any progress thus far.
It actually didn't go horribly.
Thanks to days of accumulated cold medications and a three foot layer of phlegm lining my noggin, I was pretty muted, pedaling away in a mental fog. I couldn't push that hard, but even when I tried it felt the same as it did when I was going easy- meh. It was like the nerves were clogged with snot too.
After three days of inactivity, it was nice to do something again. I'm going to slowly build back up to a decent level and see if I can dodge stray germs for the rest of the winter. A little bug can knock you down quite a bit.
Getting sick also means I eat a lot, so I have to get that under control. The double whammy of inactivity and increased caloric intake can kill any hopes of attaining that climber's physique that women seem to be repelled by. If things keep going the way they are, I might have to lower my weight loss expectations from Esteban Chaves levels to something more  Magnus B├Ąckstedt-esque.
Besides, sitting around exuding bodily fluids is really cutting into my bike wrenching time.


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