The Best Made Plans are Laid to Waste

I've always thought this describes my life as a bike racer pretty well. I'd always dream big (1986), but then f*ck up in a race or my frame breaks (1995) or have some horrific breakup with a girl at the only point in my life when I probably could have had ANY shot at being a Cat. 2 and let everything go to shit (1996-1997). Or, how about starting to train in early June expecting to do well in USCF races in Category 6 and above (2007). That's kids stuff, there.

This neck stuff has made me reconsider everything I know about fitness, though. Its getting better--but I also realize that my time on this planet is about halfway done, and unlived dreams and my fat and rigid/tense body is just going to keep building up if I don't do something about it.
I eat like shit a lot of the time. I'm about as unfocused an "athlete" as they come. Hell, I'm 25 pounds over my racing weight from the mid 1990s. I'm not even an athlete, really.

I just got an email from Butthead about cyclocross practice and I'm not going to be there for the next few weeks because I was lazy and fat these last few years and haven't treated my body with respect. My theory is that my back and neck just couldn't take the strain. These biomechanical failures, to me, are warning shots to be taken seriously--or else I could turn into some invalid slob in a Jazzy, living on disability wearing sweatpants and shopping for boxes of HoHos at WalMart.