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.
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 had a good ride on Friday and was happy with the way I felt after a week off the bike. Still, I found myself longing for something different as my attention turned to Saturday’s ride.
It took a while, a week to be exact, but I finally got back in the saddle. And it felt great.
After a day spent working at the shop on Thursday, I was up early on Friday to make Wifey breakfast before she left for work and to get some writing and photo editing done before I headed out for a ride north of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack.
The plan Wednesday morning was to get up, coffee up, dump out, hit the road and get home to get shit done as quickly as possible. I did eventually get out but had to deal with a curve ball first.
I seemingly had a hundred things to do on Tuesday but managed to fit in a 27 mile loop square of dirt roads north of the Cul-De-Sac Shack. I was geeked to have got out, but not entirely geeked with how I felt. Well, for at least half the ride.
Thursday brought another “early for me” ride on dirt roads. As much as I would like to come up with something to make the ride sound like it was more than it was, I can’t.
Not sure what got into me but I got out the door for another early-ish morning dirt road ride north of town. ‘Twas pretty good.
