After Saturday’s sweat-soaked, meaty dick slap to the face/Breezies™ huff of a shit ride in the heat and humidity, I was toast (almost literally). I felt almost as broken as I do after every ride from December to April. Only this time I was shaking my fist angrily towards the heavens cursing the unholy creation of heat and humidity instead of snow and sub-zero wind chills. A break was due.
Which given the when I feel like it, every-so-often approach I have to cycling these days made me think of an old line from the show Seinfeld:
“I don’t get you. Who goes on vacation without a job? What do you need a break from getting up at eleven?” – Jerry Seinfeld
OK, I break wasn’t needed, but a break was going to happen due to the heat on Sunday and then a Monday working all day at the shop.
Sunday I braved the 97˚ temps and mowed the lawn. I was soaked in sweat and ready for a day spent laying in the AC when Wifey said that some friends called and asked us to go kayaking with them. A thought that on almost any other day would have been inviting for sure, but as I stood there in the kitchen with my sweat-soaked clothes and grass clippings plastered to me I could not begin to enjoy the idea of going back outside. Wifey was not happy, to say the least.
“My old man is a television repairman, he’s got this ultimate set of tools. I can fix it.”
On Monday I opened the shop at 9:30 and settled in for 8.5 hours of customer service and pretending I know how to operate the cash register while hoping that I didn’t do something to bring the whole business crashing down.
Working in the shop can leave me with mixed feelings. Being a once fit, crap endurance mountain bike racing, cycling enthusiast turned not-so-fit, rides a few times a week, would rather be taking photos, beer enthusiast often has me feeling like an aging porn star (a GILF?) trying to give the youngsters “acting” tips, only without the fake boobs and back alley BOTOX® face. But Monday was good. A local rider/web friend stopped in to make a purchase and told me how much he digs my photos on Instagram (thanks!), I talked with a customer who was in to pick up a repair about racing and didn’t feel bad in the least when I said that I no longer race. I also sold a bike to a guy who hasn’t been on a bike since he was a little kid and is looking to drop some weight. I stopped short of telling him I’d been there at one point myself, but did tell him that this is how it starts and to consider this bike a gateway drug.
Mixed up.
It’s also nice to look around the shop at times and see some of the contributions I’ve made to the effort through various design jobs. It’s not much, but I’m happy to help the cause and proud of most of my work.
Sugar cookies I bought off an old lady raising money for disabled vets. Not sure I believed her, nor did I eat them.
Once home, I showered and caught up with Wifey and B a bit before watching the day’s World Cup action on DVR. As I type this Tuesday morning, I am in the midst of digestion before heading out for a dirt road ride; I guess the break is over.
Later.