Yesterday's ride was significant. I'd missed Thursday's training because of an afternoon dentist appointment that left me grumpy and tense. Truthfully, I used that as an excuse, and getting in even part of the training in the time I had left probably would have brought me to a better mindset. Instead, I ended up taking a day off, following my scheduled rest day on Wednesday.
So, Friday, when I should have been getting a 1.5 hour ride out of the way, I put it off. Before I could even start, I had to change my rear tire back to the trainer tire. (We've had a big dump of snow, so no riding outside right now.) That was just depressing.
My kids are old enough now that I could have done it early in the day while they played, but I didn't. I didn't do it after lunch either. Then, it was time for supper. In my defense, I did at least manage to change that tire once I had supper going in the oven. I can't train immediately after eating, so enter the whirlwind of children's bedtimes. By the time that was done, it was 8:00 pm.
I know very well that the time of day, that I have the hardest time with motivation to train, is in the evenings. And, that is the only time I had left. Thank goodness for the most important part of my support system: my husband. He didn't have to tell me to suck it up and ride my bike, but I knowing he would have was enough to get me down there.
And, unlike most workouts, once I was going, it wasn't easy to keep going. I don't know if it was the monotony of the trainer after the excitement of the road, but it took constant diligence to stick it out for the full time. A few times, I took a short break to practice clipping in and out (I like the speedplay pedals, but they feel different then the shimanos and I find the left side a bit stiff to clip in and out.) I have my garmin set to autopause, so it just postponed the inevitable: the full 90 minutes still had to be done.
It was tempting to cut it short. Nobody would know but me, right? But that's the thing, I would know. I remembered something that Angie said during a bike class when somebody jokingly suggested not doing the final interval: if you don't finish, the entire workout is for nothing, because you know you didn't do it.
Physically, it might not matter that much. The effect on my body from a single workout in my training cycle isn't going to be that different if it's 75 minutes or 90. Mentally, it matters. Quitting becomes a habit, and if you train to quit, it gets easier every time.
In the end, I finished the 90 minutes. Instead of training my mind to quit, I trained it to stick it out even when I didn't want to. It was hard, but I did it. Maybe next time, I'll also remember that putting it off doesn't make it easier.