Dusting Myself Off (Again).

The day after I lost a bunch of weight in a rapid and completely unhealthy manner, I woke up, kitted up, and jumper on the trainer. I wasn't expecting much, and from what I can tell, I delivered.
  
Actually, given how little glycogen (or anything else) was left in my body, I was pretty happy with what I did manage to put out there. A couple sprint efforts, a couple longer pulls, and a whole lot of 'meh' was about all I had in the tank. All things considered, not too bad.
  
Sooner or later, I'm going to stop having to get up, dust myself off, and get back into the game. Either I'm going to stop falling down and getting sick, or I'm going to admit the obvious and add this to the long list of activities that I am unsuited for. As I am not particularly intuitive or intelligent, it will probably take me a long time to come to the latter realization. I'll just keep hammering my head against this here brick wall. It may not be particularly comfortable, but it is familiar. At my age, you become less adaptable and you stick with what you know.
  
What I know is how my skull feels when it meets a brick.
 
Still, the latest setbacks aren't as bad as the one this fall. A day or three off the bike, then I'm cranking away on the trainer. Sometimes I think I might be delaying my recovery by doing too much, too soon, but I do this out of fear. Fear that once I stop I might find out I don't miss that brick wall anymore. Fear that the couch will become my primary form of recreation.
 
Nope, can't sit around. Gotta keep moving. This forehead isn't going to batter itself.

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