As I closed my last post, I said that whatever I decided to do with my day—doing stuff-wise—it would be the right decision. That sounded good, and I tried to make it right, but choosing to ride had me wishing that I would have done just about anything else.
I’ll explain, because that’s what I do…
I spent most of Friday at the shop doing things that one does while working in a bike shop and was anxious to get out for some riding on Saturday.
I wasted much of my Thursday morning writing pointless words and posting photos to this digital fish wrap instead of riding. There have been times in the past where I’ve just said “fuck it” and climbed back into bed so as to avoid human contact and find escape in my dreams. But I’ve grown a bit lately (inward and outwards) and instead donned my kit, lubed up the undercarriage and headed out for a quick ride on dirt roads.
Friday was pretty wet around these parts. So wet that I had to abort a rail trail spin due to the heavy rain. When Saturday came around, I planned on doing Friday’s ride on Saturday; a 25 to 30-mile ride on the paved Jaque rail trail out of Clare. Then I didn’t.
A quick ride in the hot sun late Sunday morning finished off my best week of riding since November. That is not to say it was like the old days of “training” and racing, but for a chubby, 47-year-old slacker who cares more about photo ops than accrued miles, 9+ hours of saddle time wasn’t too shabby.
I’ve been sleeping like complete shit as of late. Even taking my regular dose of sleep medicine leaves me tossing, turning, bloated, and gassy. OK, the bloated and gassy part is pretty normal, but the tossing and turning could stop any time now.
I know over the span of Operation Boozeless™ (which is in day 26 of a self-imposed 28 booze ban, thank you very much) I’ve been drinking more caffeine in the form of coffee and Pepsi Zero Sugar, but I usually stop by noon or so. Yesterday I was up at 6 AM and then worked 8.5 hours at the shop slinging bikes and STILL couldn’t fall to sleep. I really don’t know why I’m talking about my lack of sleep. I should probably move on. Yes, I’ll move on—I rode my bike today.
A ride didn’t work out on Monday. Weather and time conspired against me, and I was left to do things like mow the grass in the evening humidity in an attempt to get a sweat on and burn some calories.
Even without a significant workout I slept like a rock last night and was up early to coffee up, eat and get my riding gear together before heading down to the Dirt Road Launching Pad at the Fred trailhead in Riverdale.
But first I had to vote.
SATURDAY
I spent Saturday working at the shop. It was so busy that our 3 PM closing time came and I realized that I never even had a chance to take a bite of the sandwich I brought. At least the 5 hours went fast.
The day started out with me fixing a series of flat tires for folks (one of my few mechanical skills) but quickly morphed into me selling bikes. Yes, Mr. Not a People Person chatting and selling comfort bikes to folks. How I do it without the aid of drugs and alcohol is beyond me!
The shop’s 10 to 3 Saturday hours provided ample time for a post-work ride, but it was 92˚ by the time I left. Screw that, a ride can wait!
Friday Morning Preface
It’s currently 52 71 minutes and counting past departure time for my ride. Bottles are filled, chain lubed, camera battery and SD card loaded, and my kit laid out. Yet here I sit drinking lukewarm cold coffee and writing about how I’ve not left yet. Idiot.
I woke up around 5 AM this morning to the sound of an absolute downpour. As much as our area of Michigan needs rain, I was less than happy to hear it coming down so hard and know that a morning dirt road ride was out of the question unless I wanted body and bike covered in sandy mud.