Thursday was just like Wednesday, except that my short walk/hike was on different trails. Other than that everything was pretty much the same: still sick, still achey, still acting like a dick and being a forty-four year old baby because I’m sick with a head and chest cold. You know, typical douche-like me stuff.
Monday evening the illness that B-Man picked up while camping last week took over my body; I was less than thrilled. I slept about two hours Monday night as post-nasal drip ran down the back of my throat like a river of sludge. Good times, good times.
Today felt like Monday in every way except the fact that it was Tuesday. Of course all of the things that went and felt wrong about the day were trivial in comparison to the fact that B-Man had to take a trip to the ER because he had a fever of nearly 102˚ this afternoon. That boy, he will never just let me complain and moan about my petty problems without making me look like the self-absorbed, slacker douche that we all know I am (or at least the way I come off like on this blog, on social media, on the phone and in person).
Thankfully the boy is fine, he just has a bit of a virus and the fever is coming down*. Great! Now we can turn the focus back to me and how the monsoon of a day ruined my ride plan but made my hiking plan.
Sometimes you get up and go for a bike ride. Sometimes you don’t. Today I did not, but I did stick to my almost daily plan of doing something outside and doing something creative by going for a quick three-mile hike in the woods in between bits of real life.
I totally admit it, I hid from the wind today. The sun was out, the temps were perfect for sweating out some weekend calories and I said “forget about it,” and took off into the woods with Wifey to do a hike in lieu of a ride. Sue me.
A bird just chillin’ & wastin’ time (just like me).
Thursday’s ride was disappointing to say the least; the heat and relentless winds made the ride anything but fun. Thankfully I made up for a crap ride by catching up with some friends in town later that evening for Art Battle and some beverages.
I have some pics and crap writing to post from today’s dirt road ride, but first I feel the need to share a fish story with you. No, it has nothing to do with the size of the fish I caught, but it’s a tale with telling.
After several failed tries, I finally got back out on the Boone today for a dirt road ride. The last time I was on it (last Thursday) my ride was only about six miles long due to a broken spoke. Since then I have put the newly Napper laced rear wheel on, so today I was able to ride with a bit more confidence (at least until I break another one due to my expansive figure and muscular, thick thighs.
The winds were pretty high on Monday, so my desire to get out on the dirt roads was pretty low; I also had little want to drive to a trail head to ride my mountain bike. Instead I chose to take a day off the bike, a decision made easier by having got 26 miles of singletrack in on Sunday. Even without being in the saddle I did manage to get some outside activities in.
Today I planned to do a lap at Mid plus some extra miles. Instead I ended up taking my hardtail bike for one last spin in an attempt to confirm that my body and the frame were not longer getting along.