“Everybody’s “got something.” That’s the title that Good Morning America host Robin Roberts gave to her book about fighting then recovering from cancer–twice. I’ve mentioned–okay, complained–about the various things that my body’s got plenty of times. I guess this is another one of those times. Because despite the milestone of daily riding my bicycle, my mileage is miserable, my Strava stats simply suck, and this dude’s definitely dealing with downright dullness. But for some perspective, the moon and sun achieved totality in eclipse the other day here in Central Texas. It was pretty cloudy and anticlimatic especialy for all of those who plunked down thousands to come see it. This dude, and the Earth, spin on.

Ruminations about planetary machinations don’t last long. The next day, task, and moment demand attention. Especially when there’s physical pain going on, which is the case for me. Without listing all my ailments, two things in particular put a large dent into my productivity on the bicycle lately. First was some sort of virus (not the big one) that turned into a sinus infection. This happened over the whole month of February; I walked 270 miles in two months for a job. I was literally (okay, figuratively) feeling like The Walking Dead. (The title of a TV show I miss greatly and need a subscription to AMC to watch the spinoffs. Sigh. Yet another platform I don’t have.) That illneess took a ton out of me and took over a month to resolve. It finally did, although I’m not sure I fully recovered.

I was sleeping more during that time, but recently I have not been able to catch as much shut-eye.  Sleeping arrngements have changed are are defintiely less comfortable though thatbwill change soon. I usually manage to make it through the day with a nap. Lately, though, a handful of times I’ve required two naps in a day.

Second, within the last week I developed a set of seemingly unrelated symptoms. While uncomfortable and at times quite painful, it has not totally laid me up; in fact, movement seems to help. But I’ve received several conflicting diagnoses and am in wait and see mode. Meanwhile it still hurts, is bothersome, or sometimes goes away or isn’t noticeable because I’m trying to ignore it. The most telling sign that something is off is that my average bike speed and distance are down quite a bit.

Here are some comparative charts from the sports app. The first is fitness, calculated by a Strava algorithm:

Looking at my activity another way, Strava assigns a score of relative effort and gives an optimal range:

Here we have monthly mileage, which includes walking. It shows I traversed 632 miles in December and 440 in March, almost a 200 mile difference. Granted, I was pushing to meet the yearly 2023 goal. And there was cold weather, rain, and all that extra walking and work factor in. But that’s a pretty damn big dip, I think you’d concur.

Well, that’s my rant for today. Maybe the best we can hope for is that we can only manage to take it one day at a time. Other times, all one can do is try to manage one moment to the next. Especially when there is physical pain. I know I’m having it, and I’m pretty sure this time it’s serious. But I’m often wrong and am not a doctor. (I only played one on TV.) My actual doctor is making me gut it out and wait until Monday for more testing.

We can hope we come out the other side of these challenges. If we’re not better, at least we hope our minds are intact, even if our bodies aren’t where they “should” or we want them to be. If there’s a new normal–a shitty euphemism for “things really suck now, so get used to it and suck it up, buttercup”–we may not have a choice but to adapt.

Even then, we can try to find small ways to persist, and exist, and not let pain, disease, and suffering define us. Life IS suffering, said the Buddha. Humans are resilient. But we all eventually die, and it’s game over. No more fucking Strava to worry about. Or cars trying to kill me. Or flat tires. Jerks on e-bikes. High Austin rent. And so on. And I plan to lose a lotta weight when I die. So it’s not all bad. Hopefully no time soon.

I’m athiest or agnostic on the idea of an afterlife. But if there is one, I hope to see you there. I wat to believe it’s like the brilliant Albert Brooks movie Defending Your Life, wherein it’s a sunny 72 degrees all the time and you can eat all you want, never gain weight, and you fall in love with Meryl Streep and she returns the feeling. Plus, all the bicycling would be downhill. One can imagine.

Until then, or whatever comes next, keep the rubber side down, do your best, forget the rest, and be sure to floss.

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