Lately, I've been feeling kind of... crappy. Unmotivated in general, only up to the laziest of tasks. Bikes rides are wiping me out. I look tired. And no thirty-something girl wants to look tired. Or to feel too lazy to do important things like cook dinner or write.
When I feel like this, it always takes me a couple of weeks to think long and hard and realize that when I eat like shit, I perform like shit. There, I said it.
You would think that since we spent the summer getting Paul to Ironman glory, we would have been eating the cleanest diet around. If that is, in fact, what you are thinking, you are wrong. So wrong, it makes me laugh. We've been eating terribly for the past six months.
I was whining on my ride on Saturday about my legs cramping yet again and my heart rate going high yet again, all while riding with a guy I know who always has his nutrition dialed in to perfection. I felt a little silly complaining in front of him... because in the back of my mind, I knew the way I've been feeling had more to do with nutrition than any other factor.
I'll admit that I think I'm more affected by poor nutrition than the average bear. And when it affects me, it hits me hard. Crampy legs. Grumpy demeanor. General malaise. The desire to get off my bike and take a nap on the side of the road.
Sometimes I find myself in the mindset that because my metabolism will generally support the consumption of ridiculous amounts of processed foods and other crap, I should just go ahead and eat it. Unfortunately, I can't rely on my body to do crazy good things when I'm not feeding it crazy good things. Just because I can sit around eating handful after handful of cookies on any given night with very little repercussion in the area of pounds gained, it doesn't mean it's a good idea for my body. Dangit, this is my temple, and I only get one chance at this life... why am I wasting my time eating like that?
Tonight restarts proper eating at the Schwer household. No more late night runs to pick up a decadent treat. Dave Ramsey says something like, "If you eat lobster all the time, it isn't special anymore." I don't eat lobster (yuck. they're creepy, with their little antennae and claws...) but I think it's that way with everything.
Time to reset. Time to pull back the forces and return to basics. I want to be the best mom and cyclist I can be. I can't do that if I don't feel up to the task.
27 October, 2014
06 October, 2014
Ride to Jack and Back
This was my second year riding in the MidSouth MS Chapter's localized MS150, Ride to Jack and Back. Last year was a poor point of perspective... I was just coming off an (another...) overuse injury to my hamstring/knee, and was slightly under the weather that day, so I didn't ride well, in spite of riding only the short route.
My ride this year, though, was amazinggruelingfuninterestingfulloflearning. That's all one word.
Now that I'm sitting here on my sofa with a glass of wine, a full day later, I'm ruminating on the excitement of the weekend. It was perfect. The perfect culmination of a year of riding. I couldn't have asked for better conditions to have some of my fastest rides to date, with people who challenge me and teach me every time I ride with them.
On the first day, at one of the food stops, a woman walked up to me and a few of the folks with whom I was riding to talk to us. She clearly wasn't a rider, and I wondered what she was going to say. Her words struck me hard, as she told us she was grateful for our efforts at fundraising and riding, and how we were helping pay for her astronomically expensive medication which she could never afford on her own.
This passing conversation shed a new light on what we're doing at this ride every year. While I always felt the contribution my donors and I made were worthwhile, I had only ever met one other person who benefited from the work the MS Society does in communities just like mine and yours. There are plenty of other rides that benefit other amazing organizations (JDRF, etc.), and the issue is the same across the board. Even our small rider contributions, made possible through big personal contributions by our donors, make a difference in the life of someone else. Those are pedal strokes I can feel good about.
My ride this year, though, was amazinggruelingfuninterestingfulloflearning. That's all one word.
Now that I'm sitting here on my sofa with a glass of wine, a full day later, I'm ruminating on the excitement of the weekend. It was perfect. The perfect culmination of a year of riding. I couldn't have asked for better conditions to have some of my fastest rides to date, with people who challenge me and teach me every time I ride with them.
On the first day, at one of the food stops, a woman walked up to me and a few of the folks with whom I was riding to talk to us. She clearly wasn't a rider, and I wondered what she was going to say. Her words struck me hard, as she told us she was grateful for our efforts at fundraising and riding, and how we were helping pay for her astronomically expensive medication which she could never afford on her own.
This passing conversation shed a new light on what we're doing at this ride every year. While I always felt the contribution my donors and I made were worthwhile, I had only ever met one other person who benefited from the work the MS Society does in communities just like mine and yours. There are plenty of other rides that benefit other amazing organizations (JDRF, etc.), and the issue is the same across the board. Even our small rider contributions, made possible through big personal contributions by our donors, make a difference in the life of someone else. Those are pedal strokes I can feel good about.
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