Worry and Denial

It's not a good thing. . .

I have worried a bit about my health since my less than brilliant, self-induced three day stay at Grandview hospital last September. Am I a doctor or even a nutritionist now? Uhm no. Maybe a stay at a > Holiday Inn Express < would have helped but till then. . . It’s not been a 24/7 thing - it’s been mostly in the background until I hop on the bike.

Yesterday, once again the brief ride from the parking area uphill to the dam was surprisingly difficult. I should have sprinted up that short bit easily then off to the races across the Huffman dam levee. But, it’s not been the same since the hospital stay. Regrettably it’s been a pathetic 9 rides since September and each and every one has been a struggle. 

Between the gloomy morning and the bitter cold yesterday I began to wonder if maybe my days of riding outdoors were coming to an end and I should take another step toward the end by riding a stationary bike indoors. Thoughts swirled through my head; pictures of wheelchairs and > Visiting Angels < clouded my thoughts but the urge to not give up pushed me on.  

A normal decent ride (pre hospitalization) was 40 miles give or take and my trusty Vima Bike app tracked me in the upper teens speed wise.  Once again yesterday I struggled to keep the pace double digits and often found myself in the 8 mph and 9 mph range during any kind of significant incline.  Depression, worry and helplessness took hold.  I began to second guess everything I had done, everything I had eaten, everything I might have been exposed to since the hospital stay.

Midway through my planned ride I tried to turn away from the dismal feelings and thoughts and decided if this were to be my last ride I would remember every vivid detail of the final few miles.  The white sycamores nearly leapt off the winter canvas along the Mad River juxtaposed to the gray-green winter colors of the woods.  Solitary random squirrels and birds appeared as I studied the landscape before me. The river ran brisk and clearer than I had ever noticed before.  I would remember it all if necessary and my flagging energy told me it might indeed, be necessary.

At the 25 mile mark I stopped to catch my breath and do the unthinkable since the moment I had committed to abstaining from sugar last August.  I tried to resist but it was futile.  I was exhausted and desperate.  I took my pack off and rifled through the front compartment until I found my one remaining > Clif Shot Energy Gel < double espresso and 12 guilt ridden grams of sugar. Down the hatch, a glug or two of water, a moment to compose myself and prayers that the gel would give me a lift and then. . .as I was pitifully laying across my bike I noticed the back brake did not look right.  In fact it looked very wrong. . so wrong in fact that it looked like one side was pressing against the rear wheel. (please stop reading here Jonathan - not in the mood for a lack of maintenance beatdown on top of the rest of this humiliation).  I couldn’t believe my eyes or my hands as I tried to extract the firmly locked brake pad from my wheel rim.  Stuck?  Yes!  My humiliation was complete!

Is there a moral to this story? Oh you bet and as I sprinted home the final few miles I promised myself and heaven above to maintain my bike and even grant myself a bit of sugar from time to time!

Hoping your coming year is filled with the sweetness of life, everything good, oh and a few artisan breads and pastries!

Mike