I have been following the advice of a questionable (albeit very reasonably priced) soigneur this winter season. He tells me to load up before bedtime. Crostini, flaxseed oil, and an acidic beverage. I agree to do this to the maximum, as Dåv and I agreed; for interseasonal glory.
I go with the chianti, as the hard cider precipitates unmanageable fermentation. Eww. Before sleep, I don my arm warmers and a Lita Ford shirt, place the empty chianti bottle between my cycling shoes by the back door, and close my photo album. Tears are lighty dried by dabs, never by wiping. This is the prescribed dogma; It delivers.
Given the tendency for my routine to inspire dreams accompanied by tracks from Blizzard of Ozz, I will wake with a purposeful and productive attitude. The power of Hessian is always strongest before breakfast.
Training units now are about slowly building base fitness, and thinking about how to choke the life out of daily caloric intake in the months to come. And Lita.
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