Keeping Busy

Another non-stellar week has come to an end. I'm not as down as I was a about a month ago. I can breathe without pain, so that's always good news. I just have the damn fatigue. Unless, you've experienced it, I don't think my description can do it justice. I know it's getting bad when I can't carry gallon jugs of water from the car to the house or dry my hair without wanting to sit down. I've done a little better at taking it in stride this week and not getting too freaked out. Yesterday's day at work kicked my ass and I was home by 5:30 pm and in bed watching bad t.v. by 6. Dance Moms was the brain cell killing, IQ dropping, flavor of the night. (Holy shit!! What is wrong with those people?!!??) Mike was sweet and bought me a Cadbury Egg for a treat. Yeah, I ate it. Alone. In bed. In the dark.  

I had planned on doing Hopbrook this weekend. I'm still on the fence. I could feel better tomorrow. I'm not going to be at full power. I get that. I just want to be able to do it for some intensity and I don't want to make myself sick in the process. So I'm trying to be nice to the body and also keep myself busy when I'm home after working hours so I don't obsess over not riding and get totally crazy. 



Not the cool compression tights that you buy in cycling catalogues. Old lady, prescription, thigh-high,  nude tone. Damn Sexy. 



If I get bored enough, I have enough Veloskin to do every bike in the stable.

I was hoping that the BBS (Borowed Bike Syndrome) or NBS (New Bike Syndrome) would have carried me through the week and offset any of the wonkiness I was feeling. Not even the power of BBS/NBS could carry me through. Jane and I have planned on a post-race jerky and Cadbury Egg party. That and the NBS have given me some inspiration/motivation to feel better.

Oh yeah... I'm also looking forward to 'officially' meeting the man who has been torturing me for the last month or so.

The Temp

Sometimes a back up plan can be better than the original. I had an endurance ride planned for Sunday. So Saturday night we were in the basement trying to do some work on a bike for me that would include two working brakes and two tires that haven't been rendered into road slicks. A little Gus the Bus lovin'. Then, as I was ducking behind the stairs it hit me. Literally hit me. Smacked me in the face and almost took out my eye. I stared longingly at it and took it to go "wash the dust off it".  Fast forward 30 minutes later after grumbles, protests and whining (not saying who did what here) and I was assisting in building my temp.

 It is way too sexy for me. I just don't do it justice.

The good news is that the ride went well. I was worried because I didn't have the best week and let's just say if you saw me you would think I was having a herpes outbreak. I'm not and I don't. Thanks. Just some nasty auto-immune mouth sores that are making me feel very pretty at the moment.

I could have done without the first two hours in a cold, spittle rain but after getting that out of the way the rest wasn't so bad. Came home with something left in the tank and I felt pretty good. The legs and body are a good tired. The hands, well, the singlespeed callouses are coming back. I remember these...


                                       

I still find it amusing when I'm in a suit and heels and I shake someone's hand and they give me a look. Can't imagine what they think I do in my sparetime.

Cracked

Not only was my body feeling it at the end of this week, so was my bike. Friday night we realized there was a crack in my frame. SONOFABITCH!!!

Took it up to Dark Horse on Saturday. Rave and I stripped that baby clean like a turkey on Thanksgiving. Hopefully, I'll have a new one in a week or so...

I'll have to deal with Old Faithful for now (aka Gus the Bus). It's been my 'road bike'. There's really only a rear brake and the tires are pretty bald. The fork is leaking oil. It could use a little loving to say the least.

On another note, I did a lap of the SSAP course today. All I'm gonna say is bring your Big Boy/Girl Gear...it's smokin' fast!!!!

Ass Whoopin'

I've spent the last three year trying to stay away from anything this painful. I think I used easing myself back into riding the bike and rebuilding my engine as an excuse for never doing any short and hard efforts. Sure, there were legitimate health reasons involved. I've dragged it out long enough. Well, no more. No more I say. It was awful. Tell me I'm gonna 'race' for 6 hours and I'm happy. Not really into 2 hours either as of late, but I'm much more comfortable at 2 hours than 40 minutes. Tell me 40 minutes and I'm terrified.

I showed up early on Saturday to the short track course because I had no idea what kind of gear I would need. I did a couple of laps and knew I needed the easiest gear in my arsenal for the snotty fresh cut. I changed my gear in front of a bunch of men who stood there staring at me. That was fun. Stacey showed up and realized I was having an episode and told me I'd be fine once I got out there. She told me in so many words to, "get my shit bag legs on the bike and just pedal my crappy one geared bike around the damn course." So I did. It sucked. My best move of the day was taking the lead from the start and then crashing on the most asinine of objects: a plastic pipe. Yeah, I'm good.  My cyclocross mutant friend fell on top of me. We were all tangled up and we were cheek to cheek. We looked like we were making out. Of course, we were laughing and calling each other names. Took me a second or two to regain my composure after what felt like 100 people zooming past me as I was trying to get it together enough to get on the bike. I worked on just trying to remain upright. I didn't do this very well. Apparently, I'm not used to handling my bike at these heart rates. I was a complete jack ass. I kept crashing. It got better. I'm just not used to the nerves and the urgency anymore. I also remembered how nasty I get when I'm in that kinda pain. It's like stub-a-toe-kinda pain anger for me. A guy rammed me off of a rock bridge and I went off and was standing in the sewage mud holding my bike and I wanted to rip him off his bike and punch him in the face. He ended up in a tree so I felt a little better. Oh, the memories.



Hating Life



Happy to have lived and still be in the Queen's good graces

I was afraid that on Sunday I was going to wake up and not be able to move. I thought for sure I was going to have to hire someone to brush my teeth. I actually felt pretty decent. I pulled on my big girl pants and slapped a decent gear on my bike and went for a long ride at Stewart.

If I show up on Saturday I promise to not crash. Well, I take that back. I promise to try and not crash.

Going Green

I've informed my holistic MD that I will NOT be going back on the no meat, no gluten, no dairy, no caffeine, no sugar, NO Fun diet. I did this for about three months a few years ago. There was a suggestion to go back to the nutritionist who was responsibe for these months of horror. I felt so tired and weak and I looked gray. I dropped weight, but I felt like shit so I didn't see that as a win. I also was having dreams about steak. Mike even started to look tasty. I was drinking this cold gazpacho concoction after winter rides. I don't even want to talk about what was in my bottles. After those few months, friends and co-workers asked for at least a two week notice before I make any major dietary changes. I was not much fun to be around.

So as a compromise and to give my body an extra kick and to better my chances of staying off of nasty meds for as long as possible, I've decided to start juicing again a few times a week. I hemmed and hawed about this for a while and  this lady finally convinced me.


Lucky Leprechaun Juice



You should see the floor

I wish I could say that it tastes so good and that I love it. Mmmmmm. Sadly, it does not and I do not love it. At work they refer to it as my 'Sad Juice'  because I look so sad when I drink or even look at it. It's been a week and I can finally drink it without worrying about it coming back up. Baby steps.

Gone Squatchin'

I get tired of riding the same trails and parks. I enjoy a good hike-a- bike adventure from time to time. Good for the soul. Castner and I started our journey when it was getting lightish and we had quite a day riding/climbing/hiking/crawling/trotting.  

Top of a super secret location



Bikes below

It's no secret that I regularly have some down time and my taste in television is non-discriminating to say the least. My recent find is Finding Bigfoot. It's awful and addicting all at the same time. You would think by listening to the 'Squatchers' that they have caught and studied these creatures for years. They seem to know what they eat, where they live, what they sound like, what they smell like and also fancy themselves as experts in Bigfoot psychology. One Finding Bigfoot marathon later and I too feel like a Sasquatch expert. I'm pretty sure they reside all over the places we rode today. Perfect Squatch habitats.

Squatches like to live and forage near water and mossy, low-lying areas.

No sightings today. They are shy creatures. However, I am not easily discouraged and will continue my search.


SS Bath Day



A little ceremonial singlespeed spring cleaning to end the day.

Fail

For once I did not procrastinate and I took action right away. I found a meditation class and I showed up. Unfortunately, my experience only lasted about 5 minutes. No, not because of the reasons you may think: uncontrollable giggles and/or eye rolling. I was ready to take it seriously and really give it a shot. My enlightenment was stymied by damn incense. To say I have a reaction to incense is an understatement. I become nauseated and my asthma goes crazy. I tried to sit through it. I really did. I couldn't. I felt wheezy and sick. Not really the effect I was going for. That wasn't too relaxing.

I should have known better. I usually ask studios before I attend any classes. Next time I will definitely ask.

Mike called me from his West Coast Tour and all I had to say was "incense" and he knew things didn't go so well. I think he still feels bad about the time he sprayed ant spray near the couch. That was a fun night. I couldn't figure out what the heck was going on and why I couldn't breathe while I was simply trying to watch my old lady programs. He denied spraying anything. Eventually, the truth came out. Sometimes, I think it was a test to see what levels would kill me. Kidding. Or am I?

So I'll try again. I'm thinking of buying some sort of DVD or something. Not really the best solution but it may be the safest.

As far as the week...it's gotten better. I've been on some easy rides. Breathing is coming around. At least I'm off my ass. That's all I can ask. No short track for me tomorrow, either. The body's not quite ready yet.

My Clinton Road find of the week:

 I

It's always something when you travel down this road. Keeps things interesting, I guess.

Breathe

This week a few people in my life have pointed out that I need to relax and breathe. I know it. I just have a hard time with the implementation and follow-through. Hmmmm. I guess that means I have issues with all of it. I've been trying. Relaxing and breathing aren't really my strong suits. Let's just say Mike is not the only maniac in the family. I just seem to hide my crazy a little better (sometimes, at least). When I get flared-up my anxiety gets worse and then I feel worse and I feel more stressed and round and round we go...

I still haven't been able to do much. I did get out this morning. I planned on so much more but really I should have stayed in bed for the extra couple of hours. I knew it wasn't good when I had to stand to get up a tiny hill by our house on a reasonable gear. Usually, I can just sit this hill on a much bigger gear. Today it felt like hot death. This set the tone for the ride. I knew it wasn't going to be good. I have a habit of getting angry at my body and subsequently enjoy kicking the crap out of it. It's not a good quality to have. Normally, I would go out and ride way too long and way too hard with a body that really should be resting. So I did the smart thing for once and I pedaled easy. I really tried to enjoy it and pedaled around the neighborhood and lake. It's so hard to do when doubt creeps in and I feel like I'm losing every bit of fitness I've gained.

I wish I could be one of those people who loved meditation and was one who really could 'Honor thy Body'. I've tried meditation. Some days were okay. Most of the time I just counted down the minutes until the class was over or tried to match the people with the odd smells in the room. I know I should honor my body and listen to it. It's really hard when it's your damn body that's causing all of these problems. It's not like I can blame a tumor, a virus or something that shouldn't be there. It's my body that's doing this. Some times I don't trust what it says and a lot off the times I really don't like what it has to say.

The real reality check came yesterday when I went to go see one of my doctors. My favorite one, actually. He's an Ironman and has an auto-immune disease, so it goes without saying that I have a lot of respect for him. He refers to me as "The Maniac". I got a lecture and a reminder of 2009. He asked, "Shall we talk about 2009?" I don't like to talk about 2009. I dug myself a hole so deep it's taken me three years to dig out of. I was in and out of hospitals and doctor's offices. That's not something I want to go back to. I was not well. He suggested a meditative yoga class and visualization. Really? I was ready for him to laugh and say he wanted the video of me attempting these feats, but he was deadpan serious. Sensing the horror that I was feeling he continued with, "or I'm going to give you a script for Xanax because you need to chill out." Okay, then. I will try it. Maybe. I don't know. Talk about anxiety. Geesh.

So I'm trying. I think. I mean I am. I got a name of a place in Warwick that I'm going to look into. I think it's the same place (with a new name) I went to for a Hatha yoga class when we first moved and as I was getting ready to walk into the class the full name was on the door:  Hatha Yoga: For the Recovering Addict and Alcoholic. Needless to say I turned around. I'm hoping they have one with the following title: Meditative Yoga: For the Self-Induced Stress Junkie.

Craptastic

I really don't want to bitch, nor do I want or expect anyone to feel sorry for me. I've actually been doing really well lately. So this latest flare-up stings a little more than usual. This is more of a vent of sorts. I've had some bad days here and there, but I haven't had a bad week in a month or so. This has turned into a bad week. I'm just frustrated and pissed at my body. So upset in fact that I was drowning my sorrows in dark chocolate and coffee at 6:30 am this morning.  Not really the best breakfast for someone at the height of inflammation, but it made me feel a little better mentally. When I realized I wasn't magically cured overnight and had to put the kibosh on going to the short track race, I was depressed and chocolate seemed like the way to go. It has a calming and yet uplifting effect on me so I figure it for a natural cure of sorts. 

I knew it was coming all week. The little indicators: having trouble opening things, having a bad case of the 'dropsies', walking up stairs and being horribly out of breath, muscle cramps, resting HR over 100...When I feel well I can sleep through the night. I haven't been sleeping well and have been having horrible night sweats. Mouth sores, muscle weakness, joint pain, fatigue, low grade fever...and the pleurisy is in full effect. The weather really is not helping. I have a really hard time with the weather. I talked to my best friend on Thursday and she pointed out that I sounded breathy and tired and that I was on the verge of a flare-up. Unfortunately, she's always right. She grew up with a father who has an auto-immune disease and she has this weird sense about her that pisses me off. She can look at my face, my gait and even hear it in my voice over the phone. It's nice to have someone who understands, but sometimes I really hate that she's always right. 

I imagine this scene when my ankles wake me up at night:



So I wait. That's really all I can do.When my breathing gets like this it's hard for even me to believe I can ride a bike for multiple hours. I dread walking to a store from a parking lot on days like this. No errands, no cleaning (yeah, like that was happening anyway)... all I can do is wait and hold down the couch and catch up on all the girlie shows I'm too embarrassed to say I watch.