changes in plans and moments....

I road last Sunday.  By myself.  I headed out after doing a workout and walk with Clayton, my personal trainer.  I have one hour and forty-seven minutes of riding to do.  It was great to be back outside on my bike. I had been out on Friday, doing a nice and relaxing recovery ride for an hour.  

 

Sunday’s ride was a little different because on Sunday I knew 100% for sure that all my summer plans were in jeopardy.  Last week I found out that my gallbladder had to come out, that was Wednesday.  I guess I had known for a long time it needed to come out, but it became official on June 7^th.  If that wasn’t bad enough, on June 9^th I found out that a polyp had to come out as well.  The good news with that is that I can get that done at the same time as the gallbladder, so I was getting twopher.  Like the two for one special, instead we are talking about only being off my blood thinner and under anesthesia one time.  

 

The surgeries come with three weeks without riding, swimming, doing body weight workouts, so basically, I am stuck walking.  Don’t get me wrong I love to walk.  In some circles I have been known as the Mountain that Walks.  I have crushed 9 half marathons.  So, I do love me some walking.  However, walking isn’t riding, and I do so love to ride.

 

Three weeks off the bike lead to the following uncertainties.  First, is I don’t know with the 3 weeks off if I will be ready to go out and do the 3f’s century in October.  It will be 3 weeks off the bike and a good 6 weeks before I get full strength back in my core.  Second, the Civilized Century in August which I was going to do 75 miles is also at risk. When I say they are at risk, what I really mean, is that I might have to do shorter distances than what I was planning on doing.  That is ok, things change, plans change, goals change.  Life happens and we must accept it and move on.  What will be, will be.  So is the way of things, the ways of the force.  Also, surgery led me to decide that Mt. Diablo wasn’t going to happen this year.  It is a goal where I need full core strength and lots of hills, and while I am getting into more hills now, I just don’t think that ride is something I can take on this year.  It was always in flux, I never signed up for it, so that is ok.  Plans change, life happens.  The good news is the race directors of the two events I have signed up for are very flexible and willing to work with me if I need to switch distances. 

 

The ride Sunday was great.  I did a reverse route.  I really enjoyed it.  I think the reverse route I did, is more challenging than my normal route.  It was not a lot of climbing but it was slightly more upwards than going to Greenville to Tesla to Concannon to North Livermore to May School, to home.  The head wind I ran into didn’t really help, but man you couldn’t beat the weather out there on Sunday.  It was gorgeous.

 

There is one moment that sticks out in my head from Sunday’s ride.  I can’t seem to get it out of my head either.  It is funny how moments stick in your head.  I had just turned onto Concannon.    I found a nice shady area to pull over in.  I had been out for an hour, and it was time to eat my lunch.  So, I pulled over and pulled out my PBJ sandwich.  I started eating it, my god it was delicious.  

 

I was taking a bite of my PBJ and the world sort of froze.  I saw myself sitting there on the side of road, with a PBJ in hand, alone and I got sad.  I don’t remember when I had ever felt so lonely as that moment right there on the bike, in the shade, eating a PBJ.  It sort of haunted me, or I should say it does haunt me.  I have no idea why I felt so alone at that moment.  I have no idea why I keep thinking about it and trying to figure out why I was feeling so alone.  It reminds me of when I was a kid and I would see an old man or women alone in a restaurant eating and I would be overcome with empathy, and wishing that they weren’t alone, and praying to whatever gods there are that I would never be that alone.  

 

The feeling was there in a moment and then gone.    It kept coming back on the way home.  No so much the sadness but why had I become so sad.  Like right now, I can’t really understand why it keeps coming back to me.  Why I keep thinking about that moment in time when I was consumed by loneliness.  I really have no idea, but it is strange to me how one moment can stick with you.    

 

Like I said the ride was great.  I was happy when I got home at just over 2 hours and twenty plus miles.  Kona was happy to see me, and we took ourselves outside and sat for a spell and enjoyed the perfect weather.   

 

I am ready for my surgeries; I go to the hospital for prep meeting tomorrow.   I get my first massage in a while tomorrow as well.  I am grateful for that, my hips and gluts are killing me, I told you I had been working on some hills.  I am not taking any breaks before my surgery.  I will be working out through Thursday as if I was going steady state and still doing my rides. I want to make sure I get every bit of fitness in while I can.  

 

The plan might not look exactly like what I thought it was going to be, but that doesn’t mean we are going to stop.  We will keep on keeping on like a bird that flew.