Two steps forward, ten sneezes back

I thought I'd come home from Moab with some extra fitness and the drive to start getting fit for the rest of the "season."

Mebbe I did.

Mebbe it didn't matter.

My sleep was all messed up from Friday to Wednesday last week.  I went to bed late Tuesday after a long bit of travel, woke, up, went to work, came home, and did much "needed" yard work.  Charlotte was ten shades more deeper into green and yellow since I'd left town.

Thursday, I was a hot mess.  Burning eyes, fire nose, scratchy throat.  Ignore it.  It can't be real.

Friday, the temperature of my mess was now blazing.  I've never been one to be drastically affected by allergies.  I just ignore my slightly despondent human condition and move on with life.  Not this time.  Head to Walgreens, throw some darts in the allergy aisle, and hope for the best.

Hope in one hand, shit in the other...

The Pie was outta town, and since we had Boppit boarding, I was looking for some Pisgah action and a continuance of this fitness I'm building.  I slept like absolute butt for the third or fourth night in a row, and woke up Saturday feeling like I should just go back to bed...

but I paid for boarding and already packed my gear and what else was I gonna do?

On the very soft pedal on the pavement from the Ranger Station to 477, I was already off the back of my frands.  Turn right onto 477 and another right on Clawhammer... nothing.  On the steep lower pitches of the climb, I can normally get my heart rate right up into the high 170s and mebbe even touch the mid 180s.  

Today?

160... if I'm lucky.

Huh.  Something is way off.

And so went the rest of my day.

I'm rarely the last to the top of a climb when I'm riding with my frands.  Not only had they dropped me, they'd been outta sight since almost the very start.  Bryan rode near me, very politely talking to a very non-respondent me.  I had nothing.

I rarely have to bail on a ride plan, and if anything, I'm the one figuring out where other riders can drop out and get back to the car ASAP.  Today, I was that guy.

Fortunately (for me, not him) Bryan was also not feeling "it" either  We both shortened our PMBAR prep epic down to a 20 mile/3.5k climbing ride and headed to the Pisgah Tavern to drown our respective sorrows.

So odd.

I can remember being at events in the past, and so-and-so dropped out because of "allergies," and all I could think was "How da fuq?"

Now I get it, and a more empathetic and very stuffy in the head me emerges more enlightened.  Here's hoping to better days ahead, because I'd already spent an entire 48 hour period going down the wormhole of how mebbe I'll never have a good day on the bike again.... because that's where my brain took me this past Saturday.

Catastrophize all the scenarios.