Suck It Up, Buttercup.

After a hiatus from the normalcy of training, nutrition, life, and work that started off the summer of 2012 as a truly amazing experience for me, it is time to get back to the basics that made me feel stronger than I ever have in my life, physically and emotionally. I'm going back to my normal diet state, which pretty much makes me a super-powered herbivore :D. I'm going back to my (essentially vegan, with some outside experimentation - I never stop experimenting) optimal dieting simply so everyone who wants to spend time or meals with me does not forget how much of a huge pain in the ass I am to be around. Or maybe it's because I'm now officially a social ambassador for PROBAR and I get amazinggg vegan whole food bars that make me so happy I want to eat nothing else (except for massive salads. And cookies. And other delicious healthy things that are so good my non-vegan friends think I'm an evil magician).

The real reason is a combination of things that leads to a singular cause: to be as fit and strong as I humanly can be when the world ends on December 21, 2012. Although if I could be as strong as a cockroach by then I'd likely outlive all humans...I'll ponder that one later. My 2012 season was going as great as I could have imagined - I'll do a season wrap up sometime soon, as it's pretty much over. Then 6 weeks of losing fitness (3 of which I didn't even touch the comforting saddle and bars of Slice of Life) kinda got in the way. Crashing in a really good position in the final lap of my last two races of the season didn't help build things back up either, so it's back to the drawing board.

Don't get me wrong when I say this (but I'm sure most people will get me wrong aside from a few who really really know me), I'm not satisfied finishing this season in category 2. It was my bare minimum goal for 2012 back in the spring when I was category 4. I finished it within 6 weeks of racing and was looking (and, more importantly, feeling) great to be hitting the upper goal of 2012. Race Mayor's Cup in the Pro/1 field, if not that then put in my upgrade request (from what I hear it sounds like it's more complicated than going pro) after a podium in the 2/3. But alas none of that is happening, I won't even racing Mayor's Cup. Now I know most people think I should be off the wall pumped that I'm cat 2...and I was amped......back in June. I have no reason to believe I should be category 1 at this point given that shortly after my upgrade everything fell apart except for my (invincible) bike itself - she held on nice and tight. I joked to my teammates/friends that TCR stands for Travis Crash Resistant. Hey, if you can't laugh at yourself stay away from me because you're no fun!

I got caught in a vicious cycle of:
1. Something problematic or interfering happens (crash, injury, travel, etc).
2. Subsequent loss in fitness due to lack of access to training or inability to train.
3. Struggle emotionally with losing fitness...fight the urge to believe hope is lost.
4. Remember that I *am* strong and it WILL come back, it just takes time.
5. Step 1 comes back along, manifesting itself in a new form...before the fitness had time to return.

This happened about 5 times over. It included 3 crashes, which were literally the best (not worst) of the problems. After June this year has absolutely sucked, and I've let my fitness and health fall off far more than it needed to given the difficulties. I believe external things can only effect an individual so much. Because no matter the negative external source, a strong and mentally tough individual will be able to find a way to either overcome said difficulties or use those difficulties as motivation. Regardless of what happened this summer, I'm not pleased that I faltered in my motivation and performance. Looks like it's time for yet another "Return to Glory", but on a whole different level.

On that note, I shall take the very wise advice from probably the most influential person in my life. It's time to stop deflecting and complaining and to "Suck It Up, Buttercup": the famous, never out of place nor uncalled for, always 'well played' words of Deb Kroot.