A ride didn’t work out on Monday. Weather and time conspired against me, and I was left to do things like mow the grass in the evening humidity in an attempt to get a sweat on and burn some calories.
Even without a significant workout I slept like a rock last night and was up early to coffee up, eat and get my riding gear together before heading down to the Dirt Road Launching Pad at the Fred trailhead in Riverdale.
But first I had to vote.
My back was killing me last night, and even after taking my nightly dose of ZZZQuil I still had the jimmy legs from too much caffeine through the day. As a result, I slept like shit and was in no mood to climb out of bed early today. Wifey was up around 6:45 for work and I usually follow her a few minutes later. That was not going to happen today.
I had a good ride on Friday and was happy with the way I felt after a week off the bike. Still, I found myself longing for something different as my attention turned to Saturday’s ride.
It took a while, a week to be exact, but I finally got back in the saddle. And it felt great.
After a day spent working at the shop on Thursday, I was up early on Friday to make Wifey breakfast before she left for work and to get some writing and photo editing done before I headed out for a ride north of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack.
The plan Wednesday morning was to get up, coffee up, dump out, hit the road and get home to get shit done as quickly as possible. I did eventually get out but had to deal with a curve ball first.
Not sure what got into me but I got out the door for another early-ish morning dirt road ride north of town. ‘Twas pretty good.
With Wifey and B in Pennsylvania for a few days, I’ve been struggling to find some structure to my days. Monday had it all worked out for me with 8.5 hours at the shop.
With Tuesday open, I headed to the Dirt Road Launching Pad™ for some south of town gravel goodness, always a fave.
After a beautiful ride in the July sun on Friday, I did everything I could to motivate myself for another ride on Saturday. It didn’t happen.
Friday finally brought some sweet relief from the intense heat and humidity that we’ve been having. Usually, such a drop in temps is preceded by thunderstorms and heavy rains that would turn the dirt roads into a rutted, muddy mess, but this time the cool temps just sort of appeared. With that, I was looking forward to getting out for a few miles on the dirt roads south of town without feeling like I was riding in a treeless rainforest.
As I eluded to in the last post, mid-Michigan was about to/is getting bitch slapped in the face with the meaty dick of a heat wave. I was quite used to warm humid summers under “partly cloudy”1 skies back in Pittsburgh, but here in Michigan, with 8 months of cold temps, a 95˚ day feels like it’s 350˚ and the air is like breathing through the UltimAir 100% polyester crotch of a size 3XL pair of Breezies™ whilst being worn by a 6XL QVC home shopper. While some may find that incredibly erotic and spank-worthy, I do not. Well, at least not while riding my bike.
