Sunday morning after I finally had enough coffee and soccer I set about looking for all my cold weather gear so I could venture out into the windy 35˚ day and get a ride in.
I found my Lake winter shoes, thermal bibs, wool socks, base layers, and winter gloves. However the one item I couldn’t find was my balaclava. Not sure if it got lost in the move last spring or what, but the fact remained I didn’t have it. I figured what the hell it’s 35˚ not -35˚, and I did have a thermal skull-cap, so how bad could it be.
In a word, bad. In another word, shit.
I rode roughly a half a mile into a gusting wind out of the north, turned around and rode home. The wind was ice-cold and I knew that there was no way this ride was going to happen without something covering my face.
I got home, ditched the seven layers of lycra sausage casings I was wearing, put on my fat pants and a big ass hoodie and sat down to continue watching soccer while eating a turkey sandwich and trying not to think about how it was 70˚ just two days ago. Wifey came into the room and did her best to help me out of my funk, and I did my best to not be rude as I dove head first into said funk. Then as she walked out of the room she said “Just so you know, twelve-o-seven is too early to start drinking.” So I waited until 3:10 and never looked back until that oh-shit moment of realizing I spent my afternoon and evening drinking adult beverages, playing video games, and binge eating mini Kit-Kats and had to wake up at 6 AM on Monday. Oh well, live and learn. Or at least live.
On the bright side, somewhere in between 12:07 and 3:15 I did get out to buy a new balaclava. Now the only thing between me and a winter of cold weather riding is my penchant* for being a lazy shit.
Later.