I thought I was up early enough to beat the heat on Friday morning, but it turns out I was wrong.
My original plan was to head into the woods on Roscoe, but somewhere between 10 PM Thursday and 8:00 AM Friday, I changed my mind and opted for a quick Better Than The Trainer Ride™.
Sadly, the intense early morning heat, a pesky headwind, dead legs, an empty stomach, and a lack of quality caffeine in my veins had me quickly downgrading to a depressing 15-mile Better Than The Trainer? Ride™.
After the ride, I was tempted to take a familiar dip in my mind’s piss-filled pool of self-loathing, regret, and shame, but I opted to be a tad more positive and say, “at least I did something,” and try to learn from the morning’s mistakes. I mean, it was way too early in the morning for a mental cannonball into those toxic waters, there was still a full day of being me to ease into them.
The rest of the day was spent running errands, cleaning, and doing some laundry in air-conditioned comfort.
“I stayed at home on the Fourth of July.
And I pulled the shades, so I didn’t have to see the sky.
And I decided to have a bed-in
But I forgot to invite anybody.”
— Fourth of July. Galaxie 500
Today is the 4th of July. To which I could give a shit. My day will be spent watching fanless Premier League football, maybe taking a short hike with my camera, and then making Wifey and me a vegetarian/vegan cookout as I sit around and hope that we didn’t make a mistake by letting B go to the lake with his girl “friend” and her family. While we know that he and his “friend’s” family are cautious and smart about COVID-19 life, most Americans act like selfish, maskless, self-absorbed, ignorant, fuck-faced babies willing to let thousands become infected because they have a right to ignore science and medical facts. Because of them, I worry. And entertain thoughts of getting Medieval with a three-ball flail!
There seems to be no end in sight for the oppressive heat. If I want to ride over the next week, I may have to leave by 6 AM. Which, given my laziness, means I probably won’t ride.