When you are broken on the inside and left undiagnosed, it is a constant struggle to maintain the veneer of normalcy when you are anything but.
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Finally, I was diagnosed with something making me so exhausted that I could barely make it to work, let alone get off the couch.
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The lessons of chronic fatigue keep piling up along with the arsenal to fight it.
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I've been dealing with chronic fatigue the past two weeks (six weeks if you count the denial), courtesy of a well orchestrated conspiracy by the players in my endocrine system.
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The past two months had been full gas of singlespeed cyclocross racing plus a few alleycats and drunken weekday rides thrown in for extra merriment. The mind and the body had thrown in the towel in search of rest and recovery.
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My girlfriends and I have had quite a few monkey wrenches thrown into our lives this summer. The one thing we can count on is that we are not alone. Perhaps physically we are, but not in life.
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When I was younger and lived out east, I would always look towards the setting sun and think how lucky the people were who lived anywhere farther west than me.
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