Hypochondriac.
A lot of my posts here have to do with how my body is failing to live up to its obvious potential. I'm so, so disappointed in it.
Mostly it's just when I'm sick or hurt, I'm pretty much focused on being sick or hurt. Ever since my children started preschool, I've been sick a lot. Ever since I took up the sport of competitive falling down, I've been hurt a lot. Mark Twain said, "write what you know." In my case, I may write a lot of complete bullshit, but I know sick and injured. I consider it peak form these days.
However, as I approach retirement and a serious curtailment of my access to socialized medicine, I'm trying to document as much as I can and investigate ailments that I previously ignored. For me, it's not about gaming the system as much as creating a baseline for the future. I "gutted through" a lot of stuff over the last 26 years, and I'd like to know how bad I screwed the pooch here. I want to know how much can be attributed to pre-existing conditions and how much is just a result of my inevitable decline.
Thus, with any number of test results pending at a given time, I'm a bit more preoccupied with my frailties than normal.
So far, I haven't been any sicker than I usually am during a given off-season. I can usually count on getting at least one major case of the plague a year. The last few years have been pretty brutal with injuries, but before that I had a tendency to beat myself up pretty badly in 'cross. I'd prefer not to do it in the middle of the season, but if I really sit down and think about it, I'd just as soon not fall down at all. Because I push myself, I'm healthier than I would be otherwise. Because I push myself, I open myself up to the possibility of slamming into the pavement. You kinda have to do the math and see how it comes out. Right now, pushing it is still in the lead. That may change with a few more bounces.
I don't want to focus on being hurt or sick. I'd rather ride a never-ending endorphin high, where everything is cool and how much fun this all is. It's sad all it takes is a stray germ or high-speed accident to bring everything crashing down. The best I can do is get back up, pick the gravel out of the road rash, climb back on the bike, and start chasing the endorphin high again.
Mostly it's just when I'm sick or hurt, I'm pretty much focused on being sick or hurt. Ever since my children started preschool, I've been sick a lot. Ever since I took up the sport of competitive falling down, I've been hurt a lot. Mark Twain said, "write what you know." In my case, I may write a lot of complete bullshit, but I know sick and injured. I consider it peak form these days.
However, as I approach retirement and a serious curtailment of my access to socialized medicine, I'm trying to document as much as I can and investigate ailments that I previously ignored. For me, it's not about gaming the system as much as creating a baseline for the future. I "gutted through" a lot of stuff over the last 26 years, and I'd like to know how bad I screwed the pooch here. I want to know how much can be attributed to pre-existing conditions and how much is just a result of my inevitable decline.
Thus, with any number of test results pending at a given time, I'm a bit more preoccupied with my frailties than normal.
So far, I haven't been any sicker than I usually am during a given off-season. I can usually count on getting at least one major case of the plague a year. The last few years have been pretty brutal with injuries, but before that I had a tendency to beat myself up pretty badly in 'cross. I'd prefer not to do it in the middle of the season, but if I really sit down and think about it, I'd just as soon not fall down at all. Because I push myself, I'm healthier than I would be otherwise. Because I push myself, I open myself up to the possibility of slamming into the pavement. You kinda have to do the math and see how it comes out. Right now, pushing it is still in the lead. That may change with a few more bounces.
I don't want to focus on being hurt or sick. I'd rather ride a never-ending endorphin high, where everything is cool and how much fun this all is. It's sad all it takes is a stray germ or high-speed accident to bring everything crashing down. The best I can do is get back up, pick the gravel out of the road rash, climb back on the bike, and start chasing the endorphin high again.
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