road to recovery

Thanks, guys, for all your love and support. You may not think it matters, or that I give a shit, but it really does make a difference.

I'm feeling a bit better now. As I said to Hairy (who just had no idea what to make of me on Friday night, poor soul), "Losing is a bit like a head cold. It's part of life. It sucks. You know you can't avoid it forever, and when it happens, you're fucking miserable. I also know that, like a cold, the depression is temporary. Today I feel like crap. Tomorrow I will still feel like crap. But I know that the crap is temporary, and in a few days I will start to feel better. Knowing that, however, doesn't make it any easier to deal with in the here and now, just as knowing that the cold will clear up in a few days doesn't make the congestion or the sinus headache any less uncomfortable."

Coach told me to take a few days off to recover. I tried, but it didn't work. I had been carb loading for 2 days in anticipation of a whole weekend of racing, and by Saturday I had all kinds of twitchy energy that needed an outlet. So I got on my bike and started pedaling. I did 30 miles in just under 2 hours, and I stopped twice to send text messages. Partly I needed to burn some fuel, and partly (to be perfectly honest) I needed to punish myself. I wanted to hurt. I wanted to suffer. So every time I got weepy and began crying, I went faster. I cranked the Meatloaf up on the ipod and did the last 3 miles at 19 mph. (Ok, it was downhill, but even so.)

Sunday there was a BBQ at the boathouse, organized by two of the novice women. Hairy had a lot of coursework to do, so I cycled over, paddled about in a double with one of the novice girls, and then gorged myself on cheeseburgers and Heineken. Damn straight. Normally 2 or 3 beers would have no effect on my whatsoever, but I was slightly dehydrated, and I hadn't had drop of booze in months (except for the night of Marley's nuptials), so a couple bottles hit me pretty hard. At one point I looked down, realized that I had a Heinie in one hand and a chocolate brownie in the other, and decided that life was perfect.