Wallowing

As I mentioned here in my last digital dispatch of dystopian cycling life, I appear to have contracted some sort of allergy. Since Tuesday morning I’ve been dealing with itchy eyes, sinus pressure, a scratchy throat, clogged ears, coughing, endless streams of snot, and a bright red nose that only goes to further the general public’s assumption that I am some sort of jobless, beer drinking scoundrel.

Alas, it’s taken me two days, and two sleepless nights to finally admit; I don’t think this is an allergy, I think I’m ill. If it’s not illness, it’s one bastard of an allergy, and the trees from which the pollen spores fled should be burnt to the ground by hordes of torch wielding warriors on horseback, Game of Thrones style.

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The Letdown Ride

Monday’s 45 mile ride was one of the best rides I’ve had in 2017. Everything just fell into place; warm, but not too warm, low wind, good legs, and a great attitude. Tuesday’s ride… not so much.

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Firsts of Sorts

After an OK start to last week, the riding sort of petered out; first due to weather, and then to a hectic soccer schedule that included two games on Saturday, lots of driving, and 14+ hours away from home. All that stuff was good of course and I eventually got out to ride Sunday, and both soccer and riding allowed me to bag a few firsts.

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Stories To Tell

I didn’t plan to ride on Wednesday, but Thursday’s weather looked to be (and is) about as inviting as a rain-soaked, paper bag full of dog excrement, and I wanted some miles in, so I did a short ride. To my surprise, the world unfortunately plodded on, the house didn’t collapse, and no kittens died due to my 1.5 hours on the bike doing a Better Than The Trainer Ride™.

However rural Michigan did continue to provide entertainment for me, as well as make me sigh, shake my head and wonder about the state of our society, all while burning a few calories and getting some miles in. Beats watching The View in my underwear while eating raw cookie dough.

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Loop Reversed

I got out yesterday for another go at the new-ish 37.5 loop that I concocted, this time in reverse. It was a bit colder at ride time that I would have liked, and even with a base layer the man nips were on full blast. Cool, but it sure beats riding in full on winter gear.

Only 16 of the 37.5 miles are on dirt roads, but dirt roads are dirt roads, and I’ll take what I can get during a ride.

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Monday, Sun Day

As I’ve mentioned here many times before, Mondays are usually my days to catch up on all the stuff that I should have done over the weekend, but didn’t. This Monday was also a day that I should have fired up Illustrator and worked on a project that I keep putting off, and off, and off, and off, because it’s driving me mad, and I have the attention span on a 5-year-old on meth. So, it remains unfinished.

It was Monday, the sun was out, no lives were hanging in the balance from what needed done, and the world creeps ever closer to nuclear war due to the orange troll in charge of our country. So I said “f*ck it,” and rode my bike.

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Friday Sunday Tag Team

After a lackluster ride on Wednesday, I took Thursday off the bike, limiting myself to getting stuff done, running on the Dreadmill® and lifting heavy thing for no reason.  I returned to the saddle on Friday, and got in some much-needed time riding dirt roads; dirt roads that seem to finally be shaping up.

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Feeling Not Feeling It

Playing a bit a catchup here after a busy, rainy Thursday which, doing stuff wise, only included 40 minutes of Dreadmill® running, and lifting heavy stuff for no reason in the basement of the Cul-de-sac Shack. So here on Friday we’re lookin’ at Wednesday, and ride-wise, I don’t like what I’m seein’.

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Foggy Rollin’

Monday was a hodgepodge of adulting, fruitless attempts at a design project that I volunteered to help out with, and other crap-o-lah like lifting heavy things for no reason in the basement. All of that was done while dodging rain drops, enjoying spring temperatures, and waiting for some promised evening thunderstorms to arrive and send those spring-like temps back to into the 40s and 50s, thus making for a more “normal” Michigan spring. Like the saying goes “If your nipples ain’t hard, you ain’t in Michigan.”

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Salvaged

Given the nearly endless wintry rain, snow, wind deluge that mid-Michigan experienced last week, I was thinking that the week would leave me with nothing but a case of pent-up, crotch thumping ride rage. Thankfully, by the end of the week, Ma Nature got her shit together and threw us a few days of crap free weather. Thank you.

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