Losing Air.
Friday I felt great, pushing harder for the first time in I don't know how long. It felt incredible, burying myself in an effort like that. After months of steady upward progress, this was the payoff. This was what I wanted.
The next day I was deflated. Burnt out in a most profound way. I slept late into the day, hoping to recover enough to manage some kind of workout. It never happened. I stumbled around aimlessly, not managing much enthusiasm for anything. Eventually I threw in the towel and went back to bed.
Sunday dawned and I sprung out of bed. No, that's a lie. I'm old, and springing no longer resides in my tool kit. I creaked, popped, and groaned out of bed, but with more vigor than I could muster the previous day. When I got on the trainer, I knocked out some pretty credible numbers. Crisis averted. Ship righted. Full speed ahead. Everything is going to be just fine.
Today I crashed again.
After all this steady progress, I need to back off a little and do an easy week. Janice used to program these in my schedule to keep me from blowing up. I would immediately ignore her instructions and overdo it, but somehow she kept me moving forward and improving. Something tells me she is better at this than I am.
Over the holiday I was hoping to increase my volume and intensity before backing off. Instead, I ended up with greater intensity for a shorter duration. I'm not sure what the long-term training adaptation will be from that. At this point, it really doesn't matter as long as I can recover enough to chug away again. Moving beats the alternative.
Flats are part of riding a bike. You do what you can to avoid them, taking precautions that are balanced against performance needs. Some people are more talented than others in this regard. Others, like me, end up like pin cushions every season, covered in hastily-applied patches so the ride can continue. A never-ending series of slow leaks, because I'm just too lazy to do it right.
As I get older, my body gets louder. Along with the creaks and moans is a steady hiss, reminding me that my remaining fitness is slowly leaking away. Time to slap another patch on it and get back to the ride.
The next day I was deflated. Burnt out in a most profound way. I slept late into the day, hoping to recover enough to manage some kind of workout. It never happened. I stumbled around aimlessly, not managing much enthusiasm for anything. Eventually I threw in the towel and went back to bed.
Sunday dawned and I sprung out of bed. No, that's a lie. I'm old, and springing no longer resides in my tool kit. I creaked, popped, and groaned out of bed, but with more vigor than I could muster the previous day. When I got on the trainer, I knocked out some pretty credible numbers. Crisis averted. Ship righted. Full speed ahead. Everything is going to be just fine.
Today I crashed again.
After all this steady progress, I need to back off a little and do an easy week. Janice used to program these in my schedule to keep me from blowing up. I would immediately ignore her instructions and overdo it, but somehow she kept me moving forward and improving. Something tells me she is better at this than I am.
Over the holiday I was hoping to increase my volume and intensity before backing off. Instead, I ended up with greater intensity for a shorter duration. I'm not sure what the long-term training adaptation will be from that. At this point, it really doesn't matter as long as I can recover enough to chug away again. Moving beats the alternative.
Flats are part of riding a bike. You do what you can to avoid them, taking precautions that are balanced against performance needs. Some people are more talented than others in this regard. Others, like me, end up like pin cushions every season, covered in hastily-applied patches so the ride can continue. A never-ending series of slow leaks, because I'm just too lazy to do it right.
As I get older, my body gets louder. Along with the creaks and moans is a steady hiss, reminding me that my remaining fitness is slowly leaking away. Time to slap another patch on it and get back to the ride.
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