|Like a bad drug...?|
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
It's been almost eight months since I gave up on my road racing goals, and, consequently, any sort of physical activity.
How did it start? Well, it's a slippery slope. For me, it all started with an increase in my responsibilities at work. This amounted to an additional 12-15 hours a week spent on my day job and those additional hours had to come from some where. Something had to give, and cycling, or even more broadly, working out, was the victim. Priorities...
What happens next? For a few weeks, I tried my damnedest to squeeze in my planned workouts where I could. This amounted to one hour trainer rides at the less than ideal times of 5 AM or 9-10 PM. In my opinion, this was not enough volume to establish the necessary fitness for racing. I got discouraged. Very, very discouraged. So I decided I wouldn't do any road races for the spring or summer and instead, turn my focus to cyclocross racing. After all, my workload would probably lighten up by then.
It didn't. In fact, it got worse. So, I stopped doing anything. And I mean anything. In fact, for the last seven months the only real exercise I've had is walking up the two flights of stairs to my cubicle. I gave up on my goal to race cyclocross, because I had already lost so much fitness - in my mind, trying to regain what I had lost in a short period of time was unrealistic.
All this inactivity had it's consequences (other than the obvious fitness loss). I put on weight. I started drinking a lot of beer, and eating a lot of really crappy food. I put on more weight. That didn't feel so good.
That's when the depression set in. It was a real nasty funk, the basic ingredients being exhaustion, lethargy and a heaping helping of hopelessness. I couldn't even imaging racing, I didn't want to train, I didn't even want to ride my bike. In fact, I didn't want to do a damn thing. Except eat more shitty food and drink more beer. Dark days indeed. This lasted from July to October. Yeah, it was quite a ride.
|Don't call it a comeback.|
I actually rode my trainer a few times, for 30 minutes a pop and it felt kinda good. Thinking about riding my bike actually makes me happy and doesn't feel like a huge chore as it did in the past.
So here I am, roughly 30 lbs overweight, with the only miles in my legs being walking to and from the office. I've got a really long way to go, I know, but I'm putting a stake in the ground to get into shape so I can race cyclocross next year. And I'm starting now.
Starting off slow, with 30 minutes of activity (running, cycling, swimming, cross country skiing, etc), an improved diet, and I'm going to document it all for posterity sake on this here blog. If you've been here before, you may have noticed the new look. I added some "Belgian" cobbley flair because I've always gotten a tremendous amount of inspiration from the Spring Classics. The flahute or hardmen of the cobbles always motivated me when the going gets tough and given the state I'm in, I've got a pretty rough stretch ahead of me.