When I was growing up back in Western PA, I was part of a small group of neighborhood kids somewhat close in age. In the years before the awkwardness of junior high and high school started up, we would play kickball, stickball, tag, and hide and seek late into the firefly filled humid summer nights before heading inside for bath time, snacks, and watching CHiPs on TV.
After a pretty good indoor cycling session and a short forest walkabout with my camera on Tuesday, I was looking forward to some outdoor saddle time on Wednesday. I got that, but also got a bonus hike in the woods with B later that day.
The wind FINALLY calmed down for a bit on Thursday and I got out for a ride north of town on dirt and gravel roads. It was the first truly cold ride of the season and it had me busting out the (way to snug) tights, and a bunch of other cold weather riding gear.
For better or worse (probably worse) I tell the truth here. I don’t purport to be a better cyclist than I am, and I sure as hell don’t think I’m a better person the rest of you all (I’m pretty sure there are animals that are better humans than me). To some, this comes off as being a fat face malcontent, while others dig the vibe I set. I like that a few people read this shit, but in the end, it matters not. It’s here. It’s free.
After a weekend off the bike hiking/walking amongst the wet leaves and mushrooms of central Michigan, I took Columbo day off to… um… do stuff that wasn’t actually doing stuff before going to the MP varsity soccer match with B to take photos as requested by the team “Momager.” Happy to oblige.
I woke up Thursday morning to the sounds of more rain pelting mid-Michigan, and resounded myself to another day of walking in the woods. I was less than thrilled. But then things changed.
It’s been a few days since my last entry to this interweb hosted pixelated dung heap. There is a good reason for that: I haven’t been riding.
Monday was an OK-ish ride in the morning, and a HOT early evening in Midland watching B’s JV team get trounced while I sweat all over myself and anyone in a 30-foot radius of my gelatinous body. I don’t know how a person can produce as much sweat as I do just standing there, it really is disgusting and a tad embarrassing.
On Wednesday morning Wifey headed to Chicago for a three-day meeting at HQ, and I snuck out for a morning ride in the dreary mist, happy to be out on my bike after working the balls of Tuesday in the shop.
After a week void of cheeks in saddle time, I was finally able to get out for a ride on Sunday. With the wind blowing steadily from the northeast at 15-20+ miles per hour I was expecting the worst, but it was somehow tolerable. I guess when you’re that hard up for a ride, anything will do.
Other than test riding bike builds and repairs around the parking lot and streets surrounding the shop, I have not been on a bike since last Sunday. This lack of ride time has me feeling and looking like a giant fleshy heap o’ poo.