Over the past twenty-plus years or so I’ve made my way from being an obese 300 pound tub-o’-goo, to a pretty fit 170 pound, unsuccessful amature endurance mountain bike racer, to a 200+ pound, craft beer drinking, white-trash Mexican food eating, not so skinny cyclist just trying to stay in shape. During that time I’ve missed my share of workouts and rides. No big deal, we all miss workouts or rides for one reason or another: work, school, family commitments, illness, or the occasional bout of “fuck it.”
However, given my increasing paunch and ever slowing speed on the bike, along with life’s normal interferences, it’s pretty obvious that I miss more than my fair share of rides due to a lengthening list of crap excuses: it’s raining, it’s too muddy, cold, windy, foggy or hot. I have indigestion, severe manscape irritation, hot Mexican salsa bung, I just did a long ride (last week), I sort of have a headache, etc., etc.,
My want to compete and my time spent racing continues to dwindle and I have grown (in all directions but up) to accept that sometimes I just don’t want to be miserable when there’s no point. I suppose that falls under the aforementioned “fuck it” excuse (also known as laziness), but I’ve come to believe that I really do give my best effort to ride when being miserable has a point such as having enough race fitness not to completely embarrass myself.
Still, sometimes even I have to call myself out when I skip a ride and there is no excuse other than being a complete moron. No, I didn’t get into the beers last night, leaving me nursing a hangover and no, I’ve not just consulted my doctor for an erection lasting longer than four hours*. Nope… I forgot what day it is, or I should say was.
I had heard that the groomed fat bike trail at Hanson Hills was in way better shape than it was last week, so last night I readied my gear and prepped my bike for a return trip, I even went so far as to fill up a water bottle. As I screwed on the cap, I looked down at my handy-dandy daily pill-box [file that under you know you’re old when!] that contains my daily dose of anticoagulants. I noticed that the Wednesday box still contained a pill, I chastised myself for my forgetfulness, grabbed it, threw it in my mouth and took a swig of water from the bottle before I put it in the fridge and headed up to bed.
As I laid in bed I decided to double-check the weather forecast on my lap top sitting beside the bed. Cool, Wednesday doesn’t look too bad… high of 23 and cloudy, nice! Wait, WEDNESDAY? I thought today was Wednesday?? Shit, I just took a pill!! Which means I took TWO today! SHIT!
Yep, it seems that yesterday was Tuesday (but you knew that) and I took two pills, doubling the amount of anticoagulant in my system. Drat! While the pill I now take– for treatment of multiple DVTs in my legs for unknown reasons over recent years–is much easier than the old one–in that there are no food interactions and constant blood tests– it’s still a blood thinner which means that there are external and internal bleeding risks as well as easier bruising and swelling. In other words, it’s best if I don’t crash that much. I tend to conveniently look beyond this for my normal riding, especially in warmer weather when the roads and trails are free of ice.
I was going to be riding on pretty cushiony snow pack and not on the road, and I would of course be wearing a helmet but with two doses of the medication in my system I still decided to error on the side of caution and abort the ride. Sigh… Being a moron is tough work.
I was a bit disappointed not to ride, but that went away quickly enough after an excellent indoor workout on the trainer immediately followed by a text from Wifey as I got off the bike saying she really wasn’t feeling well and was going to get checked out by a doctor. YIKES! [SPOILER ALERT: she’s fine).
A super quick shower and I was out the door to meet up with her. I am not one of those people who goes on and on about how everything happens for a reason and thankfully Wifey ended up being fine, but I sure would have hated to return to my car at Hanson and seen a text from her asking for my help and have been over an hour away.
The plan is to ride Hanson on Thursday or Friday before temps warm up this weekend, unless of course I come up with a good excuse not to or do something moronic. My money is on moronic.
Later.
*Note: I have never taken a pill for erectile dysfunction, nor have I ever had an erection lasting four hours or more. But I have to say, it wouldn’t take me four fucking hours to consult a doctor. FOUR HOURS?? What do you even do during that time? You couldn’t leave the house! Hell, you couldn’t even wear pants, you’d have to wear sweat pants or something. Just sitting around in sweat pants with an engorged crotchial area like some sort of loser!