Stress.

I just got back on the bike, so I can't expect this ship to right itself all at once.
  
I've got two months of accumulated stress to burn through, compounded by a handicapped decision-making process. That little guy who usually says, "dude, now would be a good time to shut up" has been watching and holding my beer a lot lately. My aggressive-aggressive nature has been on full display, and the results have not been good. Right now I'm keeping my head down and trying to ride (literally) this out.
 
I never really realized how much I relied on riding to balance me out until now.
  
At the very least, now I see the error in going with my first inclination to negative stimuli(smash), bypass the second (weapons-grade sarcasm) as much as possible to avoid offending those with gentle constitutions, and shut the fuck up. I'll scream my frustrations into the wind, because now I can. I have a lot of them, so I do a lot of screaming. Apologies to those within earshot. This is how I cope.
 
Life is complex. Career, family, bills... they all pile up and tie you in knots. Stress only makes it worse, by a factor of ten. I have to get out and release some of it, and cycling takes all of the negative and turns it into positives on several levels. It's magic, and I need some magic in my life.
 
So, every day I kit up after work and limp through the rain to my car. I pull down the bike, slap on the front wheel, and start riding. I'm not fast or strong. Mostly I'm soggy. A little cold. My endurance is in the tank, and after an hour or so I start to get whiny. I've been riding progressively longer distances so I don't have a choice- I'm too far from the car to let the whiny side win. I have to ride, cold and wet, until I'm done.
 
Last year at this time I was in Mississippi, riding for three to five hours most days of the week. My collarbone was almost completely mended (a little sore at times), and I was just cruising towards a very late season peak. This year not so much.
 
When my car was totaled and I had a TBI, I was off the bike for a week.
 
When I wrecked in the Tour of Fairbanks and slammed my knee and shoulder into the curb, I lined up the next day. I won the crit two days later. I exploded and was dropped on the queen stage, but at least I had something to show for the trip.
 
When I went over the handlebars and broke my collarbone, I was back on the trainer within a couple days.
 
Even getting hammered by multiple viruses that dropped me to my knees this spring only kept me off the bike for about a week and a half (including the days I got on the trainer and ended up puking more than pedaling).
 
This has been a whole 'nother level of suck.
 
As a result, I've got a giant mountain o' stress to climb. I need to get on top of it, stamp it down to a manageable hill, so that I can safely intermingle with the rest of society.
 
That means I get soggy and cold.
 
I'm good with that.
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 

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