Yeah, Should Have Known.

Two days after the rapid weight loss I jumped on the trainer ready to continue my dramatic recovery.
  
It didn't work out that way.
  
My legs, depleted from a lack of fuel and the previous day's workout, just sorta flopped around for an hour. There was no short duration power. There was no long duration power. There wasn't any power at all.
  
I wasn't disappointed in this lack of performance. It was only logical, and given how quickly (relatively speaking) the whole unpleasant experience was over, I was almost thankful.
  
The next day I bounced back, thanks to plenty of sleep and food. Glorious food. Food that stayed where it should be and absorbed into my starved muscles. That was exactly what I needed, and it was nice to know I could recover and continue. These days it's something I no longer take for granted. I'm more accepting of my limitations, both of the temporary kind and those that are with me for the long haul. The list of the latter seems to grow larger every day.
  
So, I shrug a weak day off, try to understand why it didn't go as planned, and look forward to the next one. Bad days help me appreciate the good ones even more. For every cold, rainy ride, I hope I can get a day in the sun. It rarely works out that way in Anchorage, but that doesn't stop me from hoping. 
  
Eternal optimism and self-delusion fuel my cycling far more than any sort of aptitude.

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