My bed has turned into a gigantic vacuum; a black hole of epic proportions. No matter how hard I try, every time I get near it, it sucks me in. I try, I really try, not to fall into the vortex, but to no avail. My friend Sasha, being young and exuberant, tries to pep me up by coaching me on all the things I could be doing, such as one leg exercise bike, one leg workouts, ect. Unfortunately, I am not an exerciser. I run, I ride, and I ski, not because I need to exercise, but because I have a need to ride, to run and to ski.
That is a hard concept to explain. I am in pretty good shape, and I have reaped the benefits of years of exercise. I have great cholesterol levels, excellent blood pressure, and a low resting heart rate, and I am not overweight (I'm not exactly skinny either). For me, however, these things are the secondary benefits of riding and running. Their main benefit is what they do for my soul. I know that sounds fairly corny, but I can think of no better way put it. I am happiest when I am on my bike, and it really doesn't matter if I am flying down a technical trail on my mountain bike, in the last few miles of a road century, or on my commuter heading for work on a Tuesday morning.
I see the doctor Wednesday to get the results of my MRI. I know that no matter what the results are, I have a lot of rehab in my future, which means a lot of exercise. It may mean time spent on an exercise bike, a treadmill and some weight machines. Not exactly my cup of tea, but they are represent a means to an end. That is, if I can stay out of that vacuum known as my bed.