Ahead of myself

I’ve been telling myself for some time now that I’m going to bike the Apple Cider Century on September 25, all 100 miles, with my husband and brother. But I’ve been having my doubts. I’ve been thinking I’ll never make it.

I’ve been biking pretty regularly but the weather has interrupted a lot. I don’t think it’s a good idea to ride in thunderstorms, do you? And I’ve been increasing my weekly mileage as well as my mileage per ride but only sporadically. And noticing how my body responds, which is not all that encouraging.

Last week, for example, I rode 17.3 miles on Sunday and 23.3 on Wednesday. Both felt pretty good. And then I went 20 on Saturday and felt awful. My legs protested strongly the last half of that ride.

I’ve been assuming that whatever I’m doing right now is not nearly enough to get me in shape for a century so I’m pushing myself. Finally today I looked up some century training plans and discovered that I’m doing just fine, I’m right on schedule or maybe even a bit ahead of where I need to be. And maybe I was overtraining last week.

The main difference from what I was assuming (based on what I remembered of century training 6 or 7 years ago) is that I should be taking four rides a week but only one of them has to be long. The mileage buildup is mainly on the long ride.

For example, in two weeks I should be able to take a 25-mile ride. The other three rides that week should be 10-12 miles each. No problem! Ten to twelve miles, including hills, is routine for me. Easy. Twenty-five is certainly doable if I don’t start out with achy legs.

Last week I took three longish rides. Mistake. No wonder my legs ache.

So much for trying to push myself, on the assumption that more is always better and that because I’m a little old and a little overweight I need to test my limits to be sure that I’ll be able to do this.

This happens to me sometimes. When I have a lot to do in a week my worrying mind often runs ahead of itself and skips a day. I’ll be thinking Tuesday when it’s only Monday. I get ahead of myself.

When I get ahead of myself some part of my anatomy, whether it’s my brain or my legs, goes on strike, simply lies down on the job and says, Stop! Take it easy. Less is more.

Haven’t I learned this lesson before?