Throwing blind punches rarely wins the fight. Today I staggered like a drunken soldier across the fairways and trails of this town. In the heat, soaking wet with slime and sweat, I chunked shots over greens and into foreign rough. I changed three flats and finally had to wave the white flag with a terminal mechanical at Tom Brown Park. Headset-fork related for you techies.
Wrecking Ball was gracious and pleasant throughout, and he didn’t seem so sick to me. Sick strong maybe. I owe him about seven tubes.
The problem is I don’t really have a plan for rest days. The wagon rolls best when it keeps momentum, and stopping always invites trouble.
Lucky for me I found some supportive information on burnout from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I think their program is a good fit for me. Link the linky for details.