12 Km

The past week was a very difficult week.  Monday I didn’t train because of Sunday’s race so I helped a friend with her art expedition.  Tuesday I took the road and everything was fine.  Wednesday I had no energy so I didn’t go near the gym, but made a point of it to train on Thursday and to add more hills to my route.  Friday and Saturday I took it easy in preparing for Sunday’s race.  The weather on Saturday wasn’t a cyclist’s dream.  I decided that only if it rains I won’t race.
Sunday morning the sun shone but it was still cold.  Friends of mine, Jarrod and Monique, also joined the race.   I didn’t feel well at all.  Getting the bike frame out of the car I didn’t have the strength do pick it up.  My mom asked if I was fine. Frustrated I answered that I’m fine and that I’ll mange.  Standing next to the car I just saw everything going dark and Jarrod asking the same.  Again I said I’m fine, but at this stage I knew I was not well.  I was determined do to this race!  I know I can do sixty kilometers with ease.  I do it twice a week.  From the start I didn’t have strength, but I gave it my all.  Six kilometers in I had to turn around.  I had no strength left.  All I wanted to do was to sit and cry: ‘I can’t do this today’.  A lady handed me a medal, but I didn’t want it.  I wanted to drop it and walk away.

Sharing about the race with Rochelle she replied that I should listen to my body.  But it isn’t my body; it’s able! Mindset?  No!  I wanted to finish well!  The bipolar taking its usual toll in August?  I won’t deny it.