Something Wicked

It has come my way.

I thought that as a cyclist, my stumbling block was difficulty finding my way around the city on a bike efficiently, that wasn't my biggest problem as it turns out.

From bad things come good, generally. We learn from mistakes; we overcome hurdles, or find a detour around them. Lemons and lemonade... that sort of thing. I'd been faced with hypoglycemia and food allergies some years ago. They were bad, they made my life miserable. I detoured. I was conscious of everything I ate and avoided sugar; I had to give up beer. Wait, let me rephrase that: I. HAD. TO. GIVE. UP. BEER! The result was weight loss and a more defined view of healthy eating.
Then, I gained a love of exercise, I went to the gym 7-8 hours a week. I was hailed as a model of determination by my co-workers who saw me taking off for the gym more than once a day. It was difficult (especially the beer part), but had positive outcomes.

Yes, among my co-workers and friends, who rarely exercised, I was fit in comparison and when looking back on the days where I got winded rolling over in bed. I became complacent. I told myself that snacking every few hours would keep my hypoglycemia in check. I no longer accepted that the weight that I had been holding at for the past two years was a plateau to be broken, but this was just the weight I was meant to be. A BMI of 27.4 was good enough for me. Hey, it wasn't 55.9 anymore, right? I wasn't gaining weight.

Riding with proficient cyclists turned that around. These people are Fit. I was Not.

The Something Wicked this time was: harsh truth, reality.

Something good will come of this.