The life of a Pretend Bike Race (PBR™ – see what I did there?) is an irrational one. For instance, I am a 46 year old man, and I have no business whatsoever being seen in public in sausage casing-tight shorts—but do I let this fact stop me from prancing about on my bike in front of women, children and the up-tight? Of course not, because I am out “training” and can therefore justify almost any sort of crimes I may commit against the eyes of those unlucky enough to spot me out in the wilds of Northern New Jersey.

In fact, the t-word (that’s “training”, if you have poor reading comprehension) is ofter used by PBRs™ to justify all sorts of egregious behavior. Can’t get off the couch to take out the trash? I need to recover from today’s training. Need to spend every extra second out on your bike instead of with family and loved ones? I have to train for the ______ crit or the _____ road race. Compression socks with shorts? Recovery from training of course.

I mention all of these justifications for training because, due to illness, I have been robbed of every opportunity to behave irrationally. There is nothing worse for a PBR™ than to not be training. If I cannot train, then surely I am falling behind. I am losing precious fitness with every wheezy breath. I feel my strength is waning to—I cannot even bear to say it—a category five level.

My lowly state has been brought about by a virus contracted from my daughter, as middle schoolers are very good at sharing contact lists and viral ruination. And whereas she bounced back with the immune system of a champion, my path to mightiness has been waylaid this week, as I’ve been mostly laying down a lot and sweating through my bedclothes.

Of course, I am trying to use this momentary hitch as an opportunity to set myself up to come back stronger. I’ve been resting furiously, drinking gallons of fluids and sweating away extra weight as I lie motionless, building up the reserve of delusion necessary to convince myself that I actually can race bikes effectively. It’s hard work, but I feel I’m up to the task. See? I can almost feel my delusion levels rising. Then, it will be on to season goal setting!