Tuesday was a ride banked on a better Wednesday ride. Wednesday sucked due to a supposed storm that never showed up and thoughts of a better THURSDAY ride now crept in my skull.
Enter Thursday– I got kitted up, filled my bottles, lubed the chain and set off. Just 5 miles down the road I started moving in sloooww…. moshheeeeee-onnn….
I stopped, looked around the vast farmland surrounding me and let out the two words that I have said more and more over the past 3 years.. “fuck it.”
I then turned around and rode home.
As you may (or most likely have not read), I have been trying to cut down on my carbs due to not riding as much or for as long. I’ve been trying to eat hight protein, Atkins, Primal, Paleo type shit. I think in the past 3 days I have had less than 200 grams of carbs. That works for a while, but then a day like today happens and you set off for PLANNED 40-50 mile ride, get 5 miles in and just KNOW it’s not going to happen; dead tired legs, no “oompf.” Fuck it.
It’s one thing to cut down on carbs, it’s another to eliminated as many as I did and still try to even do the half assed rides that I do. Fuck it. While I am not going to be bellying up to Olive Garden’s All You Can Shove Down Your Fat Fucking Throat Pasta Bowl™ thing anytime soon, I will be going back to at least ONE meal that contains a nice amount of rice, beans or some tubers like sweet potatoes.
I poo-pooed science and sport nutrition facts and in return they told me to go have large amounts of sex with myself and enjoy that ride of shame home… LOSER!
Yet again I came home from a ride wishing, more than ever, I was Jake The Dog, spending my day staring off into nothingness.
And seemingly enjoying it.