I rode my bike two days in a row.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA! Before uncomfortable white guy high fives and fist bumps are presented to me like we’re a couple of jaoffs watching fake basketball games in a Papa John’s commercial, let me say they both sucked. Sucked real hard.
Ride one was Saturday morning on the Hammer. I spun a flat Zwift course for 10 miles and watched the first half of some completely forgettable footy match.
Sunday, I was up early to do laundry, some cleaning and then decided to go for a spin. I spent a half-hour or more getting Mr. Burgundy ready and my rolls of flesh stuffed into cool weather gear. Just as I tightened the Boa™ laces on my shoes I looked up to see MORE wind bending the pines behind the house. Fuck me! EDIT: Of course, by 3 PM it was warmer and the wind had stopped. Sigh.
Fat + Out of Shape + First time on a bike since October, maybe? + cold morning air + another morning of high wind = 1.5 miles of panting and mental soul-searching into a cold, steady headwind before I said, “This isn’t particularly fun, I think I shall turn around,”1 and rode home to cry. OK, there were no real tears, but as Mozzer once said, “Oh, mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head.”2
In other words, it wasn’t pretty, and like Antwan, I “should’ve fuckin’ better known better.” Seriously, I hate the wind, I hate the cold, I know I’m out of shape, and I chose to ride. Sometimes I can be such a stupid Friggin’ mother-impregnator.
BUT! Since my fucks for such shits are limited, and I am hoarding them, I bounced back like a champ! I fixed some shit around the house, did three loads of laundry, folded 1/3 of said loads, went insane after Lamela’s robona goal, cursed at Spurs, went a different kind of insane after Lamela’s red card, played with the dogs, furniture shopped with Wifey, walked out of one furniture store because I had a “bad vibe” about the place3, gotta good jag-on later in the afternoon while listening to Son House and writing some of this shit, watched more footy, cooked food, etc.
I also reflected on the night before where we actually got to see mid-Michigan power couple, The Brookenseses’ at a little 4 person bonfire #BonfireOfTheBrookenseses. I took some homemade pierogies and beers, and the Brookenseses provided the fire pit, the “tube steaks,” and some long-missed companionship as we spent a great afternoon and evening of sitting around the fire bullshitting in the crisp and windy early spring air.
My reflections on the night before were interrupted when Wifey burst on to the scene like a gingie—and rather bosomy—lady-like Paul Revere, to announce to me that there were slots available in our county for a COVID vaccination this coming week. A bit of this, a bit of that, a raging BMI, some hypertension, an unknown blood clotting disorder, and boom, I’m getting vaccinated on Friday. One step closer to being able to return to the gym and feeling normal-ish.
OK, time to start the week. Let there be bikes, bongs, boobs (or similar human parts of sexual arousals and or baby feeding/making), beers, footy, cameras, photos, hikes, shop gimping, rides longer than 1.5 miles, and vaccinations for all of yinz!
Later.