There has been no ride since my last ride. That’s a bummer, but I’ve tried to keep moving with six nine miles of Dreadmill lumbering over the past two three days. Me walking/jogging on a treadmill is not exactly blog-worthy1, but as I so often say here on these ill-written digital pages of digital suck, “yet here we are.”
I was up late on Saturday (11 PM is late for me) as Wifey and I watched a Tom Talk (not to be confused with Ted Talks or Turd Talks) and waited for B to get home from a day trip to MSU with E-Dawg (his lady love) and some friends. I only mention this to set up the fact that I wanted to ride on Sunday morning, and each minute, my ass stayed up past nine o’clock; I became more and more resound to the idea of sleeping until noon. Snore.
I was up at 6:15 AM on Friday to embrace whatever fresh hell moderate inconveniences the day might throw at me. It’s been raining for like three days straight, and when it’s not raining, it’s gloomy as fuck as if it were raining. So it took a few extra guzzles of coffee and the promise of sunshine later in the day to finally convince me to start thinking about possibly leaving the house to ride my bike.
WEDNESDAY 7:53 AM
I’ve been up since 6:30 AM, which is pretty normal since I usually go to bed by 9 PM these days. Oddly, it’s dark as night with threatening clouds leftover from last night’s thunderstorms, and I have a feeling it’s going to be like this for most of the day.
Given the rain overnight, I’ll be keeping my Roscoe and its new 29er wheels with low-profile Kenda rubber out of the mud and in the garage2. Instead, I’ve developed a plan to tackle 2 to 3 laps of the Bundy Hill Preserve, hopefully without being struck by lightning.
Not to sound like a broken record, but allow me to apologize for the previous post. The stomachal mayhem that I dealt with for four days was not particularly good blog fodder. I want to say it will never happen again, but you and I both know that it will.
Since my last post, I have been up to very little other than shoving Imodium down my throat like their candy and working out in the Not-So-Stankment to avoid any roadside bowel evacuations.
Well, that didn’t go as planned. In all honesty, I don’t know if I ever had a plan other than to try and ride my bike on Friday
Where, which bike and distance were factored in, changed, and then changed again. However, I did not factor in weight and fate.
Wednesday, I needed to shoot over to the local lab to get some bloodwork done, and then it was home to the savory arms of a 225 calorie Soiled Egg Sammich3 before getting into some kit, looking at myself in the mirror, thinking about taking the kit off and downing a bottle of gin, aborting that boozy plan for some reason, and then going for a short 20-mile dirt road ride that hurt like it was 120.
Sunday brought a reprieve from five days of heavy rain and thunderstorms. I had no real plans for the day, but in the late morning, I decided to do a quick walk around the Sylvan Preserve with my macro lens. Wifey tagged along to get some real exercise while I took photos, and then we met up for a bit somewhere in the middle of the trails to finish out the walk.
Against the better judgment of the weather goof on TV, but falling in line with my 49 years of poor decisions, I headed out into Summer Monsoon-A-Go-Go 2021 for a walk at Meridian Park on Saturday.
It’s been real build an ark-type weather here over the past week, so any outdoor activity needs to be inside. 4 In other words—it’s been raining a lot, so unless you don’t mind getting wet (spoiler alert, I don’t), you’re better off inside.
