As a cyclist, I have not been very good at taking care of myself. If the bike is the only thing I touch for my physical fitness, it can create problems. Although I feel great on a bike, doing other things can prove costly. For example, lifting an extension ladder onto my truck can take out my L5 and SI joint. Of course these were weekend (most likely) from golfing two days prior. Yes...golfing! The core abdominal strength I once had has been lost due to a singular focus on cycling. Believe it or not, bending over on a bike is not doing much for a guys midsection.
Once the back was "out", I continued to ride because it was not that uncomfortable on the bike. Perhaps it is muscle memory and the fact that the little seat allows my SI to open up. Last Monday I did 30 miles like this with Bobby T, who was suffering from a undiagnosed fever spell. Tuesday afternoon, before our regular ride, I had my chiropractor set my back. 35 miles later that day and I was feeling good. But just when life seems to be running along smoothly, Karma can reach up and take you for a ride.
Golf league is just an excuse to not quit the game. After a lifetime of hitting the little white ball, I can approach it recreationaly and have a great time. Throw in a few drinks and I can try kill it with the best of them. That was Wednesday night. Thursday morning I couldn't really get out of bed.... and I had to urinate bad! Chiropractor on Friday morning, again on Saturday morning and I sit here still in pain. I have to seriously consider giving up golf until I get my ab muscles in shape. Or at least that is my theory today.
I have a two day golf sabbatical (somewhat business related) coming up on July 30-31 and the 24 Hours of Nine mile two days later. I am not sure that I should do either at this point. I hate to see golf ruin the one cycling event that I have been gearing up for, even if I have been gearing up for it poorly this year. If it comes down to a decision between golf and the bike, the bike will always win. Perhaps I should accept the fact that I am not 18 anymore, but there is no real joy in accepting that now is there.
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