I fucking HATE the dentists. This is on the list of ‘historical trauma’ events: rotten teeth came out when I was probably four or five, the resultant nightmares have never gone away. It’s a good indicator of being in a high-stress situation when that particular subconscious moment resurfaces, reminder this has to be fixed with everything else. I have the first appointment on Monday next week to get it over with.
The dentist, more than aware that I have issues, was kind enough to front-load the warning that went with this: there may be more work. If there’s too much sensitivity post filling, it’s a root canal. Knowing everything possible is, of course, by far the best way to deal with a situation. It is undoubtedly the unexpected that causes more stress. Maybe I will get lucky. If not, pain is unavoidable. I HATE DENTISTS.
Balance is tough. Getting shit done is hard. However, once the momentum starts, it is a foolish person who ignores opportunity.
Yes, it was only 30 minutes, but it’s a start. It’ll take about a week to readjust the legs to what’s being asked of them, but the key to this might be to start in 30 minute bursts and go from there. I’ll rearrange my Strava to accommodate this, then see where things go. I enjoy the bike, and have missed it, and it is undoubtedly all exercise to add to the total. The key will be not to overdo it. MUST STILL HAVE REST DAYS.
Time to pull out a calendar and sort that December Exercise Plan…