I figured it was time. I was feeling better, and I told myself if I could walk up stairs without putting both feet on the same tread, I could start thinking about a spin on the trainer. I’d had my reset and was feeling healed-ish. Much better.

This feeling would betray me and lead me to darkness.

The Stigmata was on the trainer. She’s a looker for sure, singing the siren song of ride me. I figured let’s do 20 minutes, stay in zone 2, this should be fine. And it was. Riding, spinning. It’s therapy. That must be why we do it. Something about the repeated motion of pedaling, moving forward, progress, fixing. I don’t know. I lost myself in that short ride. Twenty minutes and I was beaming.

But it was too soon. The next morning I was reverted. Like time travel back a solid week in my recovery. My brain and that carbon fiber black Stigmata fucked me.

It’s the eve of my 55th birthday and inside I’m gutted.

Not because of the weight loss goal. I’ve hit the stride there, down to 235 now. A whopping 36 pounds gone since July. But the recent loss? That’s not fat. That’s probably muscle. Or maybe worse. Maybe that’s how much my happiness weighed.

It’s dark in here right now. I can’t even drive a car. Sleeping is hard. But worse than all of it, I can’t ride. My stats are plummeting, my fitness is dying, and the fucking work I put in feels gone. It’s cold right now.

I’m having a pity fucking party in my head. I saw Brett ride by today and I was hurting. I don’t want to be broken anymore. Heart or knee.

This story isn’t written yet. This isn’t a 2-hour race. This recovery is measured in weeks, months. I’m sure it’s going to be part of the journey, and I’m just going to have to turn the corner here. Work on my mental state, work on my physical state, and keep pushing. Pedaling, if you will, forward.

No happy ending here. No uplifting note. Just glad to be alive, have my family, lots of gratitude for my life. But also some pretty deep sadness. Cutting.

I appreciate all the support from family, friends, and my riding crew. Y’all are my tailwind. For now, sleep healthy, eat healthy, repair. Keep gratitude center. Come back from this. Get back on the bike.