Some days it’s fun to go out and pedal through the drizzle, mud and crisp fall winds; the past two days were not those days.
Instead, I opted to skulk around the house in a vile mood, cursing randomly (tourette style) as I searched for all the cool weather gear that I failed to put away in the proper place last May (welcome to cold nine months a year Michigan and my irresponsible world). I cussed, muttered and mildly ranted and raved as I found one arm warmer there, a leg warmer with a broken zipper here and a growing pile of jerseys that no longer fit over there. Then, once all the misfit bits of fleece lined lycra were gathered up and that pile of jerseys was sorted through, tried on, discarded or put away in a soon to be forgotten box marked “KEEP FOR WHEN I LOSE WEIGHT,” I once again made the easy, not at all thought out executive decision to say “fuck it” and not ride.
Instead I found myself doing whatever the hell it is I do, followed by fetching B-Man at school (a 30 step walk from my front door that given his recent protests will be ending soon and he’ll start walking solo), failing to be able to help him with 5th grade math homework, then starting dinner at 3:45 in the afternoon: an “Early Bird Special” of White Trash Mexican Soiled Chamois Rice and Beans. I won’t bore you (again) with all the details about my rice and beans, I’ve done that already [HERE], I’ll just say I enjoyed this White Trash Mexican version, even if it was made, “photographed,” eaten and cleaned up by 4:30 in the afternoon. Sigh.
So, with a bowl full of pseudo Mexican food (seen above) still coursing through my lower intestines, I’m now off to grab my bike and ready it for a late morning ride. If you’re out and about Michiganderburgh this morning and see a cyclist, I’ll be the pissed off looking chubby guy wearing one knee warmer, one leg warmer, a jacket that hasn’t been washed since last spring and a grimace on his face that says he’s trying to dam up the ol’ rear exit to prevent any bean vs. chamois incident from happening.