Riding three out of four days in February is cherished, even if they yield a mere 75 miles combined. Most of the miles were forced to be done on pavement, due to the dirt roads being a bottom bracket grinding, potential collarbone breaking, concoction of ice, slush, mud, standing water, and gritty sand.
All last week as I “ran” on the Dreadmill™, and spun my wheels going nowhere on the trainer, I set my mind to go down to the Cannonsburg Ski Area to take photos at the fat bike and snowboard races they were hosting. I figured I could use the practice and getting outside would do me good.
Outdoor riding continues to elude me for a variety of reasons; first because of the abundances of rutted ice on many roads, then because it got cold as shit outside and for some reason this winter I am lacking the motivation freeze my tits off. Please note that “lack of motivation” is just code for my laziness, but that’s your call.
You may wonder how the following relates to a cycling blog. Stick with it, I have a point eventually, you just have to sift through some ranting. Keep in mind there is surely a dose of hypocrisy, preachiness, and anger even though in my head it all makes perfect sense. Read at your own risk, or feel free to read something not a crap cycling blog. It’s totally your call.
Over the past few months I haven’t been sleeping very well. There are many “might-bes” and “could-bes,” which include such things as too much coffee, not enough riding, worry that my family’s entire world could come crashing down at any moment, and an ever-growing affection for nihilism. No matter the cause, counting sheep, masturbating, counting sheep masturbating, and masturbating while counting sheep only gets one so far, and I’ve found myself with time to think. This is both good (the time has allowed me to put some creative wheels in motion), and bad (see much of this paragraph). However in addition to all of that I have also had some thoughts that hover in the middle grounds between fond memories, existential ennui, and the want for simpler times.
There has been a distinct lack of things happening over the past week. Quality outside riding was once again shelved due to ice, then deep mud, then ice again, now more crap snow. Then my running was shelved because I stubbed my toe and ripped the toenail off (that felt just as you might imagine), which left it looking like it was gnawed on by a wolverine.
Today was the return of various sorts of winter puke; rain, rain/snow mix, and finally wet snow. As of now not enough snow to make things fun, but enough to keep the roads–especially the dirt roads–crapper than ever.
Some light rain overnight did nothing to help the swampy conditions of the dirt roads, but the warm-ish 40˚ temps were enough to poo poo an indoor workout and get out for a quick Better Than The Trainer Ride™ (Plèasant – Bêal – Plèasant road ride edition) before another round of “wintry mix” moves in.
Sunday was my Day of Sloth. I slept in a bit, watched soccer, took B to soccer practice, drank beer, played FIFA ’17, made White Chicken Chili, and chilled with Wifey while watching Sherlock. The closest I came to exercise was using a bottle opener, and it felt goooood!
What a week! Monday night’s five inches of snow turned into a snow day for B on Tuesday. Snow turned to rain Tuesday afternoon and melted most of the snow before 30-40 MPH winds kicked up and falling temps moved in overnight freezing everything solid. That resulted in second snow day on Wednesday. Then Wednesday night wet got a wintry mix of snow, rain, and freezing rain, followed by falling temps which meant another snow day on Thursday. HOLY GROUNDHOG DAY!
Even though school was finally back in session on Friday, everything was covered with a mix of frozen winter puke and that meant a fifth straight day of running on the treadmill. In my own way I’ve been enjoying the challenges and the pains of being a non-runner attempting to run, but five days in a row was a bit much. I needed to ride!
Part I (On The Couch Whilst Sitting In a Recliner)
New Year’s Eve had some promise; Wifey and I had the house to ourselves, good food to eat, and a fridge full of good beer. Sadly by 9:00 PM all that promise turned into Wifey pissed at me because of my opinion on how I can’t see any good that could possibly come from 2017 (I still stand by that, the world’s f*cked), and debating my talents (her words) and lack there of (my words) as I head into another year without a paycheck.
