It’s been frustrating to miss the last couple weeks of racing due to being sick again. Especially since I probably have some of the best form of the year right now. And now that I’m starting to ride a bit again and feeling close to better, I still won’t get to race for two more weeks since I’m leaving for the Galapagos on Wednesday. And by the time Eugene Celebration comes around, the season is pretty much over. In fact it’s really already over. I feel like it just started, though. And the idea of not racing again until next February is already causing me to grind my teeth. Three weeks ago I felt like taking a break from cycling. Now it’s all I want to do. You never appreciate the things you’re currently doing until you can’t do them anymore. Unless that thing you’re doing is eating cheesecake. Cheesecake is one of those things you appreciate %100 all the time. But even cheesecake can be taken for granted during momentary mental lapses. I had two pieces yesterday at an open house. As we were leaving I thought about wolfing down a third, but decided against it. Bad choice. Terrible choice. Worst decision of the year right there. I regretted it even as I walked out the door.
I’m excited about training this fall and winter. I know it’s still August, but that’s what I’m thinking about. I used to loath the end of summer. The end of summer means the beginning of boring school and 10 months of rain and cold, gray, dark days full of misery. This is probably the first time that I have ever not dreaded the end of summer. My plan is to head down south again for the winter for an extended stay this time–hopefully to start the race season down there and avoid as much bad weather as possible. I just smelled my finger and it smells like skunk from petting Thomas, who got sprayed a week ago.
My race resume is about to get sent out and I’m crossing my fingers that a good team takes me for next year. No more sleeping on couches and riding to races hopefully, since I now know that doesn’t work.