Harissa & Fuzzy Math

For the first time in a very long time I didn't eat too much Harissa. Over doing dinner isn't usually an issue but this Harissa, holy shit. Kind of a metaphor for my summer, too much on occasion spells crap for the following days. Like when you do 6-7 hour days and then expect the legs to show up on time when you want them to, as opposed to when they are ready. Miles doesn't always equal speed. And form isn't the sum total of your time and distance. This fuzzy math is always what slaps me in the face when I expect it to be hibernating. Like an ill-times encounter with a bear, only wrestling the bike up and over the hills results in less injury than an ursine encounter. I'm guardedly approaching cross, cleanly viewing my season as a total effort, not three separate ones. It's been winter melded into summer racing smeared into CX. We will see how that works out. I'm not looking to force anything, just hoping for good legs and clean, muddy races.