This Friday I have something coming up that is more exciting than Birthmas. I have a Pelvis x-ray followed by an appointment with a fracture trauma specialist. I am hoping for some excellent news, and will be utterly deflated if I get bad news, so friends, be ready for sad Andy should it be bad news.
The good news I'm praying for—to no one as I don't believe in any gods—is to be able to start rehab. But really, to be able to jump back on my bike, if only indoors. I can't express how much I miss riding my bike. To be out in the hills with that beautiful scenery. Or even just the feeling of moving my legs like pistons. Up and down, watching the feet turn in circles. Perfect circles.
Motivation is a funny thing, it comes in drabs. Highs and lows. You can't understand how you could lose it when you have it, and you can't understand why you even bother when you don't have it.
I lost my motivation for cycling through the winter. So much so that I didn't understand why I chose to ride bikes as a hobby. It was late July, and I was watching the Tour de France late every night—you'd think that'd inspire me right?—and therefore couldn't get up early for a ride. It was also cold (for Australia). And I was in a weird place, stupidly focused on finding a female to date. I think I was scared of being alone, or had just lost something and wanted to replace it ASAP! I was going on maybe one date a week, sometimes two. They were mostly rubbish dates, and I found myself almost forcing myself to like some of other date attendees. Cycling wasn't an outlet but in my head became a barrier to more dates. Can't have a late night and then ride the next morning, it doesn't work. What a mess. I needed a reset button, and I eventually found it.
Funnily enough, my reset button was shaving my legs. I had let them grow over winter and because of that stopped feeling like a cyclist. I am like the opposite of Sampson. Cutting my hair made me stronger, more determined. I was back to riding as much as I possibly could. It filled that void. I was building up my fitness and loving every second. My body clock adjusted to the 5am starts and 9pm stops. I was hanging with mates before work and all of that set my day up nicely.
That was until my injury. But you know what. I have continued to shave my legs (albeit a little less frequently than when I'm on the bike) and my motivation is at an all time high! I am well prepared for the struggle it'll take to get back to good form, but oh what an enjoyable struggle it'll be!
As the saying goes "you don't know what you've got until you've lost it" — and boy do I feel that loss! I WANT TO RIDE!