A week in the dumps

A week completely written off in Janurary. All in all not a bad time to be sick. My brain knows this. It's a perfectly logical thing. Five months out and you miss a week. Big freakin' deal. The other side of my self however sees this as a horrible waste of a training week. Mind you this was just a recovery week, so it's actually the best week possible to be off the training grid. I'd rather go a whole week with a little sickness and staying off the road than to push through it, get sicker and then be flat on my back wishing for death.

And so I stayed off. I didn't touch the water, 'cept for showers people. Nor did I ride or run. And it killed me. A part of me felt horrible every day I did nothing. I remember feeling this way last year when we were tapering for a race. The taper is that time in your schedule just before you go race. It's close, so no amount of work will actually improve what you're going to be doing, in fact the work you do can actually be detrimental to the race you've been prepping for. But after months of knowing that you have to be out there, working, training, and moving through that cycle, the idea of sitting down and --- gasp --- resting seems too far away from reality. So much so that it takes a good deal of strength and mental will power to keep you from going out and doing an easy 10K.

Now I know that's stupid. I do. I really do. And for you out there who know me, and don't believe me, I do know that that is stupid. (I might have gone out for an easy 10K during my taper.)

But that's how I feel now. I'm sick and I'm not training... much, and the parts that I'm not getting in weigh on my mind. AND THEY SHOULDN'T. "Dean you're sick. SIT THE HELL DOWN and for the love of god, stop moving." That's really what my body is saying to me. It's probably time I listen. G'night all.