I've been rather unfit, of late.
Some of it is my fault - bad diet, laziness, drift.
some of it has just been a sense of mild depression and self-loathing, I suppose. mixed in with a large amount of residual grief, following Dad's death. Even writing that down feels strange, alien, and unsettling.
But it's left me unable to truly enjoy the one thing that makes life noticeably better: getting onto my bike. It's been compounded by the fact that these last eighteen months have been one of the most successful periods for the band, in over three decades. We literally haven't stopped, and that's meant that my work has ramped up, too. I've been buried in logistics, planning, and music. So, trying to exercise, and ride, has been a frustrating pattern of stop/start. It's been almost impossible to build and maintain fitness, so - as you'd expect, fitness has taken a nosedive. One of the really obvious manifestations of this was my reluctance to get onto the turbo trainer. that had previously been a place where I could just get on, smash my way up a mountain, and marvel at the insane levels of effort. I could see the result, sweat my way into fitness and feeling healthy.
But when fitness takes a dive, so does your confidence. You don't feel like heading back to those hills, because at the back of your mind is the nagging thought that you won't live up to your previous performances. You'll feel like you're failing. So you don't bother.
But, little by little, I've hopped on the trainer, these last few days, and I'm learning to love it again. I'm nowhere near heading up the Stelvio, or Ventoux, just yet - but today, I managed a PB up Puerto De Tudons. Faster than my last attempt, which was actually four years ago. I'm feeling much more energised. Here's to getting healthy again, and banishing all those other demons, too.
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