Today is my four week anniversary since my surgery.
It's raining outside. I rode 30 minutes on the rollers this morning, struggling, wanting so badly to get back in shape. I look at podiums from end-of-season races and want so badly to have had that opportunity. I just dropped off the disc wheel I was going to use for track nationals to my friend to help him in the pursuit. I have been spending time looking at photos from recent races, smiling for people's success but then secretly (and now publicly) feeling a bit depressed about falling out of the scene so fast right when I felt like I was strong again, fully recovered from my collar bone incident.
So then I pout a little, cry a little, act cranky...
And then I think about how it could be so worse, so, so worse. I think about others who have gone through things that made my little bit look like a scratch, and I put my pouty, self-wallowing attitude aside and be thankful for what I do have.
It's a little early for Thanksgiving and I don't really celebrate the holiday that much...because it seems to be counter productive to my quest to be fit...but if today were thanksgiving, here's what I'd say.
I'm thankful for the following:
1) I can be on the bike now! That is unheard of so soon after a major surgery. I get dizzy a bit from blood loss but only when I'm lying down and there's no lying down when you're on the bike, so I'm all good.
2) I don't have cancer. Borderline cancer is confusing. But the point is whatever I had is gone and I'm healthy...healing...but healthy.
3) If I missed my opportunities to seal the deal with a pro team, I still have a chance to improve and do even better next year than last. I'm familiar with how NRC races work. I can go to the big races early and continue to prove myself. I think that for my first full road season, my results and trajectory of improvement are outstanding and should earn me a spot on a team (if say, women's cycling was supported and there were actually places for cyclists on teams) but sometimes you just have to play the hand you're dealt, I suppose.
So yeah, I was sitting here not wanting to ride this evening, thinking about how I'm failing and then I took off the pouty lenses and looked at my Heal that Belly Month Calendar. I've already put in 8 hours this week. Why am I not recognizing that I'm doing great? It's cause I always want more more more. Well, 8 hours for a gal who still has scabs on her stomach incision is great. Yeah, great I say. Now if it would just stop raining, I could quit writing such downer blog posts.