It is like having someone turn on the lights from a completely dark room. The strobe sparkles and twirls between my eyes causing dizziness and affecting equilibrium. It is like walking in braille.
I got to the club early, trying everything possible to prepare for our weekly 90 minute set, cold water in face, hot towel on forehead, some electrolytes and lots of water, all to no avail. Folks started showing up offering the usual greetings and encouragement. I love this group.
Nothing helped. I tried. We started stretching in saddle and I knew it was no use. My vision was now one dimensional, and I knew the symptoms, soon I would be horizontal.
So I eased down and led the drills walking, and after five minutes I felt a touch better and decided to give it another go. So back to saddle we go. I owe a deep debt of gratitude to The Who, because had it not had been for Baba O'Riley, there is a good chance I would have wimped out after the first tune.
But it got better, and as the 90 minutes passed, I could feel a momentous increase in my ability to control my output. I was pegging 130 on the stands and, as designed, getting below 105 for the seated recoveries.
A rocking set helped. Flow established, we made it through.
It is now seven hours after. I have seen some HR spikes throughout the day, and my metabolic focus is still less than normal, but, we made it.
Recovery in process.
Another day.
One with meaning.
We talked in class about motivation and how to keep it. I told my pithy story once more about having a date circled in red on my calendar as a constant reminder of the value of every day. Every training day.
There is a long way to go. Today was but a single part of the whole.
But a big contributor.
Strange days can sometimes be like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment