I’m sitting on 92 miles for the week as I type this. If all goes well, by tomorrow that’ll be just over 220 miles for the week. Saturday and Sunday are always big days.
The Assenmacher 100 is tomorrow and I’m excited. I’m in excellent shape, the setup on each of the bikes (after some minor tweaks) is perfect. I feel good and strong…. and I’m bummed I won’t break 250 for the week. Missing out on 26 miles of the 40 mile club ride for a busted wheel sucked.
I could go longer today but I’ve got volunteer work to be done for the ride today so we’re keeping it to 30 miles. I could go longer tomorrow, after the hundred, but I’m not that crazy.
It just is what it is
Here’s what’s really eating at me: This will be the first month that I didn’t exceed last year’s monthly total mileage. I’m 814 miles up on last year’s total mileage so far. So far, that’s a good thing, right? Exactly!
Hold on, this’ll get weird… and probably a little geeky… Yeah.
So I’m up on last year’s totals by 814 miles… I rode 7,614 miles last year… I can break 8,000 miles when I thought, just a couple of years ago, that 6,000 miles in a year was about as good as it gets for a working stiff – and I managed to spend more time at work this year!
Folks, it doesn’t get better than that, right?! I KNOW!!!
So what if I give back 100 of those miles this month, next month is an easy 1,000 mile month (I’ll ride more than 450 miles in the first week with DALMAC)…
But that’s just it – I don’t care. I don’t care if I hit 8,000 miles, I don’t care if my average speed is slower or faster for the year, I don’t care if I get another new part for one of my bikes… everything is perfect the way it is as far as recovery, eating, fitness and weight goes. I’m a good husband and dad. I’m fit enough. I ride enough. I am fast enough. I am working enough. I am strong enough. I eat well enough (without sacrifice). I have excellent cycling friends. If that wasn’t the perfect cherry on top, I get to put in a bunch of miles with my wife too! That is the perfect cherry on top (She’s My Cherry Pie is playing in the corner of my melon). I am good enough.
The part that bugs me is this is a little too much perfect. What bugs me is the perfect. I don’t do well with perfect. In fact, I do worse, mentally, with perfect that I do with really screwed up. At least with screwed up I have something to fix.
Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t know how to handle being okay. And that’s what bugs me.
After 23, damn near 24 years of sobriety, I still need something to fix. With this need to fix if I’m not careful I manufacture, through faulty thinking, things to fix. I think things into being screwed up when they’re not, just to have something to fix.
Maybe I just need to work a little harder at the office. Put a little more effort into loving my wife and kids… Work a little harder at sobriety, maybe…
Oh, I got it!
I need to start working with someone else to help them enjoy their sobriety… a noob. That’s the ticket!
Geez, who knew success was so tough to take!
Thanks for sitting through that with me. I needed that. I fixed a lot, because that’s what I do. I fix $#!+.
If everyone wrote down their problems on a piece of paper and put that paper in a hat, then we passed that hat around to pick a new set of problems, I’d be the @$$hole looking to pluck out the piece of paper I originally put in there.