Growing Up in Middle Age

Regular readers may have guessed, from the prevalent post paucity of late, that I've been over-busy. It seems this thing called "real" life -- whatever the hey that is -- will have its way with me, over and over. It's all good stuff, but I find myself, one more time, drastically cutting back training goals.

This seems to happen every season. You'd think I'd learn and just set humble goals, easily met, but that's not the Velophoria way. If I'm not striving for something, I tend to develop freezer rot. You pull me out and I have that grayish-greenish hue that makes you go, "Hmmmm...."

But striving is not restricted to exercise. We're in the process of adopting a child, and the intensity that involves in terms of time, energy, and emotions is not to be trifled with. (The rewards will be worth it.) And y'all have heard about me building my private practice up; things are going slow there and they have to speed up, because I'm taking a second day per week there starting June. And that's in addition to my steady job.

The irony is, I'm more equipped at 49 to deal with all this than I was at 29 or 39 (or, believe me, I would have gotten it all done back then!). I'm in better overall condition, and I have a better emotional foundation and larger store of valuable experience.

But a middle-aged body can only handle just so much.

I was training for a century this spring, not for the first time, but this time, it looked like I was on track. My long rides reached 50 miles a few weeks ago, and the engine was just racing. I was dropping friends on hills I usually crawled up. This is the year!, thought I. I was drooling at the mental picture of the white oval sticker with "100" inside, prominently place on my car bumper. Then... boom! My energy and motivation dropped off the end of a table.

You know it's time to change something when you look at your bikes in the morning and think, "Ecch."

So, back down to the humble 30- and 40-milers for me. Hopefully with some friends, to sweeten the ride. Growing up is a bear, and it doesn't stop when you graduate high school. It certainly has its rewards, and it's a choice I make enthusiastically.

But the trade-offs are tough!

Enough, Already.

Five degrees below zero when I awoke this a.m. Icicles slicing up the view from every window. Two layers of sweats while eating breakfast and waiting for the house to warm.

Last winter was filled with days in the 30s and 40s, and I rode outside once or twice a week, sometimes more. This month, with the exception of this past Friday, we've had about three-plus weeks of single-digits through the twenties. I rode outside yesterday out of desperation, because I'm tired of the rollers. It wasn't terrible, but it sure wasn't fun -- 24° and falling at rollout, winds gusting up to 18 mph. Being barely on the mend after a 10-day chest cold, I did 50 minutes and called it a day. Came back home to nurse Velophoriana, who is hosting a truly bad cold right now; makes mine look like a walk in the park.

I believe fiercely in keeping a positive attitude. I'm a mental health counselor for children and youth, and it's very important to walk the talk. Besides, it just makes life better. But there are weeks, even months when it's hard.

January's been pretty nasty at work. All my colleagues and I agree that all our clients/students colluded to melt down this month. Which led to some pretty long days and nights. When people fall apart who have long-standing mental health challenges to begin with, it leads to stuff no one should have to witness, much less go through first-hand. I'm pretty sure I'd be stronger with it all if I were able to ride outside with some degree of comfort and regularity. I haven't slept well since December, when I still had regular weekly road rides, and insomnia doesn't help when dealing with the rest of the puzzle pieces.

I think that 2.5 hour jaunt in the 14° temps two weeks ago might have set me up for this cold (along with work crises and all the other stuff). Gotta watch that metabolism; I turn 45 in five weeks or so. The old car will still roll along pretty well once I warm it up and unwind it... but the OEM battery sure don't hold the charge like it used to.

Ah, winter! Insomnia. Mental illness. Indoor riding. Darkness. Frigid chill. Colds. Intimations of mortality.

How many weeks until April?

[Ed. note: With our next post, we banish Velomisery, and return you to our regularly scheduled upbeat content.]