Just when you thought he was down and out...

This morning I awoke and, for the first time all week, my hand was not hurting. I needed the Tylenol 3's last night to get to bed, and had been worried because they were not having the greatest positive impact on my energy levels. On Tuesday night I even had to take two of them just to fall asleep, and that played havoc with my mind as I woke up around 3am feeling panicked and a little scared that I had overdosed and might be in serious trouble. Of course that was not the case as taking two T-3's wouldn't have that much an effect, but considering my lack of "pain killer" experience (save for a shot of JD after a painful break-up), the drugs had me paranoid...
All this for a thumb...
But, I awoke this morning without even the need for an alarm and felt incredibly energetic. I turned on the Tour de France to see what was going on and, lo and behold, Floyd Landis was 7 minutes up on the rest of the group. This after being left for dead yesterday and all but being eliminated from contention on the race for the yellow jersey. I watched the determination in his face as he climbed away from the entire field in what would later be described as one of hte greatest individual performances in a bike race in Tour history. I know what he was thinking. He had put yesterday away from him, and was looking moment to moment, focused, and putting his absolute best performance into each pedal stroke. There was no field of racers, just Landis and his own race. He smashed the rest and hit the finish of this stage with absolute conviction and confidence. Even if he does not win the Tour, his was one of the most inspiring athletic performances I have witnessed.
Even more so, though, was his approach. He had a bad race yesterday and could have been feeling sorry for himself and relenting to just trying to stay respectable. Today was a new day, though. Where does that mental ability come from? I looked at how I reacted after my Victoria race (or lack thereof). I resigned myself at the moment I gave up my race. But at that moment I realized that, moving forward, I had two choices... To feel wronged by fate, or to refocus and start the next stage of my training with an absoluteness and purpose of action that would be unquestionable. I didn't want to regret another moment, to miss another opportunity, and I spent the next three weeks training harder and stronger than before. But, more importantly, I just kept focusing forward. What do I do today? What do I eat today? What's the workout plan or recovery plan?
Even now, after this broken thumb, I've taken a couple of days and taken inventory of the situation. I have 38 days until the race. I have 28 days or less until my cast comes off. I have to find new ways to train and arrive at August 27th ready to go. Because August 27th will arrive for me soon enough... It's how I get there that matters now. Which means taking each day day by day and determining the best course of action.
Personally, I enjoy, and am looking forward to, the challenge.
And now that the pain killers are unnecessary, I can get to work.