The last official time I have been on the bike was for the Syracuse 70.3 bike leg. When I racked the ride that day, I had no idea that it would take me so long to get back on the saddle. What's worse is that the next few days aren't looking good either. Allow me to explain.
The first couple of days post-race were easy; I was in a recovery stage anyway. I had planned on a day or two to give the legs a chance to feel better. Granted, research shows that active recovery is more efficient that passive. However, (warning: excuses are ready and abundant) I never actually workout on Day 1. Day 2, I worked (as in my job) then coached after school. We had a match (which we lost). Day 3 saw practice after school. Day 4 was met with a match (which we won) and our school's version of Open House (which, as a high school teacher, is about as big of a waste of time as blogging). Day 5 started a tournament (which we won). It was an overnight deal and I didn't get any sleep until the end of Day 6 when I could have been compared to a walking zombie (biking not advised). Day 7 was a Wife day, since I hadn't really seen her since Day 4.
Here's the thing about coaching a fall sport (now that fall has officially started)... The sun has been limiting available biking time. The weather has been beautiful. I get home from practice around 6:00 pm. Since the sun goes down just before 7, I don't have much time to get on the bike. And, since the weather is nice, I absolutely refuse to get on the trainer. I'd rather not bike than spin in my basement. That attitude will have to change in the near future. But then again, the weather won't be nice in the near future.
As I look ahead, I may be able to get out on Day 14. That would be a Saturday. However, the forecast is for rain, a high of 49º, and moderately high winds. Crappy biking weather. Plus, I am a pansy in cool temperatures on the bike. Who knows? I might actually suck it up and get spinning.
I am racked with guilt about not biking. I see my bike sitting there in the garage, unmoving. It looks at me with big puppy-dog eyes begging for a little Banter time. It still has the race stickers from IMSyr. My wetsuit from the same race is still draped over in an eternal drying rack of carbon fiber. Sometimes I stop and contemplate a ride in an effort to humor it. Most of the time I blow right by without offering any sort of hope.
In the mean time, I miss biking. I enjoy the monotony of turning my feet in tiny circles at a rate of around 90 rpms. I appreciate the feeling of the wind slicing through my helmet covered hair. I like the feeling of freedom as I am sequestered onto the crappy shoulder of the road while cars pass by within inches of my elbow, honking their horns along the way. I want to feel the adrenaline rush of pushing up a hill in a gear that is significantly larger than my ability. I will have those feelings again. Hopefully soon.