The Dirt Field

I went on a ride today, bonked hard after an hour, continued to extend the ride unnecessarily, and finally limped home like a dying animal. (No, of course I did not have food with me.) Conclusions I drew from this experience:

1. I should eat more in general, because if I am bonking on not-long/not-hard rides, I am not properly fed. (Hooray! I have permission to eat more!) (I will promptly forget this lesson several hours after the ride. As the day progresses, I will revert to thinking the same amount of food that was not enough yesterday will be enough today.)
2. I should bring food on rides so hunger can be addressed before it becomes a serious problem. (I will not do this. If I bring food on the ride, then I’m taking in calories when I prefer to be expending only. Unless the ride is at least 2.5 hours, I’m packing water and that’s it. More than 3 hours and I might begrudgingly take in 100 calories. More calories than that and I’ll cry. Literally.)
3. I should not ride for 30+ minutes more than my coach instructed. (But really, that ride plan is just a starting point for negotiation and nobody ever died from doing some extra exercise except the people that have but let’s ignore reality and common sense.)

I have drawn these same conclusions on probably 28 of my last 30 rides.

It’s all about small steps here. I haven’t thrown up in nearly a week, although admittedly I really wanted to the other night after eating frozen yogurt. The only thing stopping me was that I was out with Andrew and he wasn’t going to let me wander away from the shopping center to throw up in the bushes. WORST HUSBAND EVER.

Anyway, I honestly believed that I had been making progress with the not-bonking-on-easy-rides thing. When I first started winter training some weeks ago, I bonked after less than an hour of slow riding. I’d set out feeling okay and then the hollow feeling would start and I’d lose all energy and end up creeping down the road. My head would go fuzzy, riding in groups was hard to process mentally, busy intersections completely tripped me out because my brain was so muddled, and I’d get irrationally angry and yell at erratic squirrels. It was ugly, but served the purpose of motivating me to start eating more each day. I’d ride, suffer, bonk, eat more, and repeat day after day until the bonking decreased in frequency.

But then today happened and GAHHHHH it was bad. I felt the hollow sensation start while I was still riding away from home and knew it was time to turn around, but I had already decided to add an extra thirty minutes to the scheduled ride and refused to budge in this. (Yeah, I said small steps.) Shortly thereafter, I was hunched over the bars with my mouth drooping open and my eyes glued to the pavement a few feet in front of the bike. When I clipped a squirrel that darted under my wheel, I didn’t even have the energy to freak out; I could only muster a feeling of irritation and a brief moment of wondering what it would be like to eat him.

(Probably squishy. Not worth the calories.)

You would think I’d learn from this experience, but while I truly believe that I’m adapting my behavior accordingly, I’m actually not. This has been going on for weeks now with only glacial improvement. During each ride, I’ll plan what to eat for the rest of the day to ensure I’m fueled for the following days. But if I decide mid-ride to eat X, Y, and Z, by the time I should be eating X, Y, and Z, I’ll have settled on eating X, Y/2, and no Z.

Sometimes I’ll grow aggressively tired of so much restriction and devour X, Y, Z, and Wx10. That’s when Andrew ends up following me around and not letting me go into the bushes or the bathroom for more than a few minutes. (I’m sort of joking. Sort of not. This isn’t exactly a regular occurrence, but I’m pretty sure this is a zero occurrence for normal people.)

Despite my tendency to overdo it, training is good because it forces me to face the reality of these bad decisions each day. It’s very incremental, but I am taking steps to eat more and actually recognize what isn’t enough food to sustain training. Riding isn’t fun when it’s miserable (duh) and I hate feeling slow. Even if I’m worried about eating more or feel guilty about it, the reward of riding better is almost enough to make it feel okay.

My new therapist wants me to argue with the voice in my head when it tells me to make stupid choices, try distracting myself when the food guilt gets bad, and stop saying “should”. I didn’t realize how many shoulds I have floating around constantly: I should ride longer, should eat less, shouldn’t eat that, should vacuum the house instead of relaxing. At first I thought that letting go of all of the shoulds would be stupid, because what about the good voice that tells me, “you should eat a bigger lunch so you’re not miserable”? But then I figured it out. Just eat the damn lunch and don’t spend a moment thinking about it. Just be where you are doing what you want and that’s enough. That’s living. Life is too short to always think you should be doing something else.

To everybody who has reached out with supportive words in the past few days, thank you. I cannot tell you how much it means to expose all of this and be met with acceptance, warmth, and encouragement. While it’s an internal battle to break out of these habits, having such strength and support externally really does make a difference. When I can finally get past this, I’m going to bake all of you a thank-you cake, eat it, and not feel one damn bit of guilt.