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.   
 
 
 
 
 
 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Luke Simpson

Image
A couple years ago I participated in a stage race and had the honor to meet Saul Raisin, the former professional cyclist that suffered a debilitating traumatic brain injury during a race in Europe. As I listened to him speak and later read his book about his recovery, I (probably like most people) had two thoughts:                 “What an inspiring story.” …and more callously,                 “Wow, sucked to be him.” The second thought was just a result of thinking it would never happen to me. If you run the odds, it just doesn’t factor into the threat matrix as prominently as teenage girls with cell phones or that sketchy Cat 5 on the brand-new Madone. Then I got my bell rung. I’ve seen my share of stars and cartoon tweety birds over the years, but this was the first time I was knocked unconscious and woke up in an ER. Another driver’s moment of inattention resulted in a totaled car and weeks of disorientation, speech delays, and random face plants. It didn’t occu
Read more

Narrowed Focus

OK, here's the fun part.   You're clinging to the wheel in front of you. Doing everything to stay in contact, because you know in the deepest parts of your soul that if a gap opens, you will never close it, and you will be adrift. That few inches of space is your whole purpose in life.   People wait their whole lives to see the scenery on either side of you, but you're too busy focusing on meaningless points up the road. You're hoping that by acknowledging them that they will somehow help you climb this hill. They don't, because they're inanimate objects like signposts and rocks. Selfish bastards.   You match cadence with the guy in front of you, promising yourself that every time their right foot comes down, your right foot will come down. That you won't stand unless they stand. That you will be every bit as strong as they are, even if you aren't.   The steady ache in your thighs keeps building. You know all you have to do to make it stop is to
Read more

Perhaps Where I need to Be.

  The last time I was in Biloxi was in November of 2016. I was recovering from a broken collar bone, but otherwise was relatively fit, lean, and getting fitter and leaner. Because I had nothing else to do and energy to burn, I rode a lot. It was wasted effort that translated into burnout during the trainer season, but I really didn't care. I hadn't been riding at all. A handful of road rides before the season ended. A couple fat bike rides when the trails near my house were packed well. Mostly I've hiked, cross-country skied, and sat on my fat ass. Primarily the latter. I knew I was going to be spending the month of February in Biloxi. I swore I was going to get back on the trainer in preparation, but I never did. I came in cold. I packed all sorts of warmers and raingear and stuff that I have yet to use.I forgot all sorts of tools. My tires were excessively worn and my tubes weren't in great shape either. I ended up buying new ones after a horrible first ride led to 4
Read more