Still attempting to learn the meaning of an “off-season”

             Maybe it’s a curse of endurance athletes, and all those who are always pushing their limits; maybe it’s a byproduct of a desire for continuous improvement; maybe it’s a bit of sheer hardheadedness and overall stupidity… probably a combination of all. The much needed yet simultaneously dreaded offseason known (hopefully) by athletes worldwide. Taking a bit of quality time away from any chosen sport is obviously necessary, as it’s impossible to be firing on all cylinders for an entire year… but we are all so averse to “losing fitness” that taking time away seemingly threatens to undo all the effort put in throughout the season.

               And by ‘we’, I primarily mean ‘me’. I’ve never been good at taking a real offseason, always coming back to some lame excuse about needing to stay mentally fresh, that I’m ‘just going out for a spin’, or trying not to waste a perfect weather window. At the end of the day however, all these supposed reasonings are just a way for me to get another hit of the dopamine: that feeling of progressing towards a goal. Some may call it masochistic, but I rate my day by how exhausted I am by the time my head finally hits the pillow. When I barely have time to look back and reflect on the multi-hour ride, the exhausting intervals, or the leg-twitching gym session before I can’t keep my eyes open… well that’s how I know the day was a success. The only problem with this thought process is that it is obviously the quickest path to utter burnout possible. I should know… but sometimes lessons take a few iterations before the logic finally sets in.

               After BCBR, I was cooked. Definitely well-done, borderline burnt. That following week I simply couldn’t do anything, except eat… then eat some more. I was told it was necessary to eat like a bottomless pit throughout the stage race but didn’t really think about the caloric hole I had dug myself into. Well, that caloric hole decided it needed to be filled immediately on returning home. When breakfast rolled around my stomach was already rumbling, and only after second breakfast did the hunger subside ever so slightly. Lunch was occurring almost an hour earlier that normal, and by the time I put the utensils down I was already thinking about what was for dinner. And all the while I really didn’t want to get up from the couch. So yes, the first week after BCBR I was doing a pretty decent job at off-seasoning.

 

 

               After putting so much energy into preparation and execution of not only the final event, but the whole season, the resulting dopamine low was something I’d never experienced before. It was a strange sensation, and the best way I can describe everything was a general ‘blue’ feeling. Not exactly down, not exactly happy, not unmotivated but also not keen to do much… everything felt just a little blurry, and without direction. I guess that’s just the let down after being 110% focused on always improving and always looking towards what’s next on the schedule. Throughout the season there’s a steady trickle of dopamine continuously anticipating the next goal, whether it may be another race, tomorrow’s key intervals, or an exciting trip, and when there’s nothing left to anticipate… it feels as though you’re left with a hole. I’ve read that with each progressive spike in dopamine, there’s a rebound past the normal baseline, and the higher the peak the lower the trough. It’s completely normal and things will eventually even out to homeostasis, but it sure doesn’t feel incredible to be stuck in the trough. Furthermore, when the high has been slowly undulating on an upward trajectory for the past ten months, the sudden lack of drive can be a bit jarring.

               So, the days following BCBR were all a bit… dull. Not having a goal to strive towards, or a calendar event to anticipate was a strange feeling. But I guess that’s the beauty of an offseason, and might be truly what taking time off the bike is all about: going from one hundred to zero never feels amazing, but it gives us an opportunity to press the reset button- both physically and mentally. Physically, an offseason finally allows the chance to fully recover from almost a full year of going deep into the pain cave far too often. Mentally, it’s an occasion to let all the emotions form the season settle; a chance to let things return to baseline. While it’s undoubtedly challenging, slightly boring, and relatively blue, taking time away from training gives us the opportunity to remember we’re humans with separate lives… not just athletes pushing ourselves day in and day out to constantly test the limits of what we’re capable of. More than that, however, an offseason allows us to remember why we enjoy pushing ourselves past the point of normal sanity: that feeling of goal setting, progression, and realization is something far too beautiful for words.