After an 11 day (ride) fast in silent protest of the endless winter cold, I finally forced myself outside on Thursday.
After breakfast, multiple cups of coffee, multiple browns, and some work in front of the computer I finally gave myself the pep talk I needed to get out for a Better Than The Trainer Ride™…
“You really don’t want to get on that treadmill again, do you? Monday was OK and Tuesday you did great—running some of your faster miles this winter—but Wednesday dude, Wednesday was brutal! You couldn’t even muster up the energy to run! It was a 45 minute boring, slow, lumber that had you looking like an elderly mall walker. You’re one step away from black sneakers with velcro laces! Get the hell outside and do something!!”
So I layered up and rode my bike.
The skies were gray, the temps were hovering right around freezing, and the north/west wind was crisp. But I was outside, finally.
The dirt roads were in pretty good shape, with only a couple of spots of ice. For the most part, they were tacky and packed down tight. To be honest, a short paved section of North Whiteville Road was the worst road of the entire ride; patch upon patch upon patch upon patch of lumpy asphalt, along with some fresh potholes, made for a less than smooth roll northward. I was thankful to be presented with the left turn onto the dirt or Rosebush Road.
One of five or six bottles of cheap ass moscato seen along the dirt roads.
***
Found near one bottle of moscato… edited to keep my R rating.
The bright sun and blue sky of Wednesday were replaced by a low, dank sky that only served to highlight the muddy fields filled with dirty snow and the dirt roads littered with a winter’s worth of Moscato bottles and used porn.
The ride was by no means a record setter for time and length, but it was indeed better than the trainer, and it was much better than getting on the treadmill again.
Riding my bike has always meant more to me than any sort of gym workout. Even back when I was (unsuccessfully) racing hundies and multi-hour events, the time I put in “training” and “racing” was about being on my bike outside, seeing things, going places, staying fit, etc. God knows it wasn’t about winning! Now that I’m older, fatter, lazier, and mentally a million miles from a starting line, one fact remains: I still enjoy riding my bike. I don’t always enjoy freezing my tits off, but the joy of riding my bike, taking photos, and getting a sweat on remains.
The reward for getting outside: leftover chicken, peas and pasta! #CrushPasta #Cat5Cooking
As usual, I am looking forward to more many more rides in the future, hopefully in some warmer temps!
Later.