Crossroads

Yesterday while training for my Sunday mountain bike race, things became really hard.  I was face to face with the fact that mountain biking (and racing) is hard...like really fucking hard.  And it gets a bit discouraging to think that I am working so hard to get 'not last place'.  It's a lot easier to do something when you know you're going to win, be close to winning, or be in the middle of the pack (so no one knows how bad you are).

When I first decided to mountain bike race it was March/April and I weighed 220+ pounds.  I wanted to lose weight and I thought racing would be a great motivator to get me out there exercising.  I definitely have that little (some times big) part inside of me that likes to compete, so it should have been a great match.  But...

I haven't really been in competition and I am just under 200 pounds.  It's not exactly what I expected.  In fact, my expectations were more like vying for second/third in my age group and by this time weighing close to 170 pounds.

I don't feel like I can continue where I'm at, which is exercising like an athlete, but eating and drinking like a rock star.  I don't want to quit exercising and racing (or my goal of weight loss - which would make competing easier).  But the call of glasses upon glasses of wine and rich food is sometimes just too good to resist...