My apartment, shit. I'm still only in my apartment. Every time I think I'm going to wake up back in Central Park. When I was home after my first laps, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing...

I hardly said a word to my wife until I said yes to changing my tenth diaper of the day.
When I was there, I wanted to be here. When I'm here, all I can think of is getting back onto the bike.

I've been here a week now. Waiting for a BIG ride. Getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room I get weaker. And every minute Bertacek bonks on an alp, he gets stronger. Each time I look around the walls move in a little tighter.

Everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted a child, and for my sins they gave me one.