After a lazy Saturday of not much riding, I made the executive, and oh so correct, decision to NOT watch my (adopted) Spurs get their asses handed to them by the dreaded Man U. today. Instead I opted to get out on the Jake (The Snake) with its newly re-mounted WTB Nano 40c tires to get my first true dirt road ride of 2015 in. I gotta tell you, it felt goooood.
With the (family) unit out-of-town for a couple of days one would think that I would proceed to live the life of the rake, roustabout and debt ridden drunken mess that I am (not really). Not so surprisingly, the opposite has been true.
I stayed up late Thursday night to greet Wifey when she arrived home from her week of dropping knowledge on work peeps in D.C.. After a brief meet and greet where we tried to catch each other up on the week’s events, it was off to bed so as to be up early for B’s parent/teacher conferences in the morning. Thankfully his school is literally right across the street and his conferences are usually a breeze. We were happy to get a good report from his teacher and even happier with word of continued straight A’s (pardon my proud dad moment, but straight A’s is something I NEVER saw in school. Hell, I’m not sure I ever got an A in anything besides my art classes).
Once home, B and Wifey headed out for the 6.5 hour drive back to western PA for a quick visit with family and I set about getting my bike ready for the day’s road ride.
Lord, fashion father almighty, forgive me for I have sinned against you and the Fashion Commandments that you have set forth before thee… in particular Commandment IX: Thou Shalt Not Wear Wrangler Jeans, They’re for Squares and Cowboys. I’m sorry my narcissistic fashion father, but I gotta tell you, they feel good and I’m sure I’ll do it again!
My faithful three readers, I also ask you for forgiveness, because I am about to bore you with yet another post that is 98.5% void of cycling and 98.5% about a pair of jeans that has me and my thighs a tad geeked.
I’m no expert on enemas or on heroin usage (thankfully), but I would almost have to think that the first ride on skinny(er) tires after a long winter of riding slow, fat, knobby, studded tires would compare to that of a Mark Renton approved heroin enema. Maybe I should just say that getting out today on skinny 35c tires (hey, that’s like a 23c to me!) felt pretty amazing compared to the past four months of riding tires so fat they make me look skinny? Either way, it felt good to get out.
My Monday turned a bit nutso as Jake (the dog) went and got himself a yeast infection that required an emergency trip to the vet. I told him he was asking for it with his muscular, thick thighs and want to wear too tight, humid, crotch-jungle inducing leather pants, but he insisted on wearing them anyway. Stupid dog!
As I mentioned in my last post, Wifey is out-of-town dropping law knowledge on .gov types for the next five days, so I am flying solo with B-Man. That means there would be no Sunday ride. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t get outside to enjoy the sun and 40 degree heat wave that central Michigan is experiencing right now.
It was a week and counting Thursday since I had last been out on the snow-covered dirt roads of Michiganderburgh. In that time I rocked a pretty unenjoyable head and chest cold which made spending time out in single digit temperatures a less than desirable option to blowing snot rockets on myself as I rode the trainer in the Stankment™.
A week ago tonight I got hit with my first major cold/cough/sinus issue of the year. I guess I was due. In that time I’ve not done a hell of a lot in the way of riding my bike outside. So far I believe the week’s total on “doing stuff” amounts to just three hours on the trainer. Unlike in years past, I have no early spring races coming up that have me anxious about my fitness, nor am I overly concerned about the lack of recent riding, especially since the weather has been ass monkey cold (I just made that phrase up, feel free to use it at your leisure). It’s been sunny nearly every day for a week, but cold enough that I am quite content to spin my miles away in the Stankment™ as snot oozes out my face like a lanced boil.
Whether this photos is a scream, a cry for help or a yawn from Jake (the dog), it makes no difference. It pretty much sums up the week thus far.
