Sunday Morning Coming Down
Additional Ed. Note: I typed this post once already today using the WordPress for iphone app, which promptly crashed and erased about 30 minutes of work. And I gotta say, that post was freaking amazing. It was the greatest post in the history of the world. The problem is I don’t really remember most of what I wrote, so this is not that post: This is just a tribute.
Original Ed. Note: Be warned, a lot of this post is self pitying and whining, so proceed with caution. After yesterday’s great ride my day went downhill faster than the end of Splash Mountain, and that carried over into this morning. I did NOT feel like doing this ride when I woke up this morning, but I did it anyway. So I guess in that sense you could spin this post into a triumph of the human will. If you try really hard. (Narrator voice inside head giving me the slow, ironic clap. “Way to sell this post. EVERYBODY is going to want to read it now.”)
Sunday mornings are scheduled to be my 50% of long ride days, which means at this early stage I was only on the hook for 11 miles. Short as it was though, it was brutal. Every second of it. In the end, I finished what I set out to do, even though I didn’t want to, so in that sense I’m proud of it. It would have been really easy to roll over this morning and blow my ride off without thinking twice about it. This is one of the reasons I’m trying to document my training on here though – because it’s public, I’m accountable to somebody, whether it’s people who read this, the fine people who have given me help and advice, or the people to whom I’ve promised to raise money for. It’s a big motivation and just what I need to be honest.
Here’s the vitals on the ride:
My friend the Livestrong app reports this was around a 1000 calorie burn.
I should have known though, that today was going to be trouble, as I just don’t have a really positive experience with Sunday rides. See this account for proof. (You can also use that as proof that I repeat myself a lot, but you may have figured that out by now.) The trouble began, ironically, after I finished yesterday’s awesome ride. Besides spending part of the day trying to clear my head of some personal stuff that’s been bouncing around in there, my kids decided to pick this weekend to be the most gigantic PITAs known to mankind. As in “How much does boarding school cost again?” level PITA. It was not fun. Needless to say by the time we got them to bed my wife and I were not sad to see the back of them for the night. It was an exhausting day, and to boot, my headache was back in full force, now accompanied by a throbbing vein on my temple known as “The Byron.” All of this lead to a fitful night sleep, which caused me to forget to set my alarm and wake up around 7:15. (I usually like to be out on the bike by 6:30/7:00). I debated just rolling over and going back to sleep, especially since my kids were not yet up and the last thing I remembered seeing before finally getting my eyes closed was the clock turning 5:45.
Instead, I scrambled out of bed, threw on my riding gear, chugged some water and a handful of Excedrin, wolfed down a banana, and filled my water bottle before jumping on the bike. And of course I left my water bottle sitting on the kitchen counter. Hydration fail.
It only took about a minute for me to figure out that I wanted to turn around and go back home. In my haste to get up and moving it hadn’t dawned on my yet that my head was still pounding, my cells were crying out in unison for water, and every turn of the wheel felt like it should be prohibited by the United Nations Convention on Torture. It was awful, like I had a massive hangover, only I didn’t have a great story of drunken revelry the night before to back that up. My night had consisted of nothing more dangerous then some netflix, some sad indie rock, a couple of handful of popcorn and some water. Instead of turning around though, I resolved to pedal on, figuring that maybe I’d feel better after a nice refreshing drink of water from my water bott….sonnaofb****!
By this time though, I was already about 4 miles in, so I figured I’d just keep at it and finish. And that I did. I cursed every stroke of the pedals, felt like stopping and throwing up about 10 times, but I did it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to curl up in the corner and rock back and forth catatonically while looking at boarding school web sites.
Yet another Ed. note, shameless plug edition: As always, I’d appreciate any blog love, restweets and shares of my MS 150 home page that you can provide. If nothing else, I can guarantee that it will make you feel better than I did this morning.
How do you motivate yourself to do something (exercise, work, etc) that you just don’t feel like doing that day?