That racquetball tourney took absolutely everything I had. I didn't realize how much I laid out until I threw a leg over my Rig on Saturday afternoon. As soon as the trail went up, 50 yards from my driveway, I was laboring. Toast. Blown. Spent.
I managed to make the 25 minute traverse over to Schultz Creek where CW was waiting. From the word GO I was 30 seconds back.....a minute back......a minute and a half back. We climbed 1,000 feet and he wanted to continue on. I tried - rode 40 feet, and said no more. We rode back down to town, had a PBR in the can in CW's garage, and I gimped home. I've never felt weaker on a bike than I can remember.
So, I got out today for a little redemption. Problem is, it didn't happen. I survived 50 minutes with quadriceps that just will not cooperate. Damn, man. I'm done. I think I'm back to square 1, and thankfully all I've committed to is a 24 hour duo in July. So - I'll be back on the trails tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, working myself back into some sort of condition that resembles what I had in March. For fuck's sake, this was not worth bragging rights, a stupid T-shirt, and a discounted racquet.
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