He hit the button for a tub of the white, slightly sweet powder.
"D-Ribose," he muttered, scrolling. The science made sense: it was a simple sugar, the backbone of ATP. It wasn't a stimulant like caffeine that just masked fatigue; it was the raw material his cells needed to rebuild energy after he’d burnt them to a crisp on the rower.
The rhythmic thump-thump of the bass from the spinning studio usually felt like a heartbeat, but today, for Elias, it felt like a countdown. At forty-two, he was the oldest guy in the advanced rowing class, and his recovery times were starting to lag behind his ambition.
When the class ended, he didn't collapse. He stood up, wiped his brow, and checked his watch. He had twenty minutes to get home, shower, and pack the trail mix. For the first time in months, the afternoon didn't feel like a mountain he couldn't climb—it felt like an invitation.
Envío gratuito
a partir de 30€(aplicable a Península y Baleares)