It turns out that after three days of riding 8 mi. to the Y, then swimming 1000 yds, the scale doesn’t move much at all. I ate everything I lost and more. I once heard it said you can’t outwork a bad diet. The purveyors of such wisdom, it seems, are right. Of course, this truth isn’t new. And it is true. Also, I’ve known it for years. So, it’s time. Not to ride more or harder or longer. Not to add swimming or functional training to the mix. It’s time to change my eating and it’s so very hard.

Cycling doesn’t solve the unhealthy relationship to food part; I can’t out ride that. Consider this a first step then. A public acknowledgement of an unhealthy relationship. Food to soothe. Food to celebrate. Food to hide behind. No pity is needed; it’s just the truth.

Time to look good. Time to feel good. Time to fit into the clothes I’ve outsized over the last years. 20 lbs isn’t a huge number, but it’s enough to feel gross about when I see myself in the mirror. It’s enough to slow me down on the climbs and add a little extra knee pain when I run.

I’ve got some work to do.

Let’s go.