My morning ride time lurched towards me like a salt covered slug and I was thinking of a reason—any reason—not to ride other than “I just want to drink coffee and watch our Nation continue to burn down around me on the inter-web-o-sphere and then go hide under the covers and wish it all away.” Well, it turns out that some oncoming thunderstorms would have a say in my decision.
I’m pretty sure I rode my bike last Thursday; yeah, yeah, that seems right. My ass was scared and bloody and then I spent three days driving to various points around Michigan to watch B-Man play footy whilst hoping the crusty scars on my ass didn’t open and bleed through my pants.
After three days off the bike, I FINALLY got out for a couple hours today. Sadly, it got off to a rocky start…
I’m not sure what happened, but I nearly lost track of what “stuff” I did this earlier this week. I truly forgot; until I remembered.
Three rides in four days and two flabby, sunburnt granny arms have me thinking that it just might spring here in mid-Michigan. Of course, we’ve had snow flurries in May some years, so I’m not gonna bust out the little J-Man’s banana hammock just yet.
Since my last blog post where I blathered on about the want to get back to “doing stuff,” I have spent my time doing just that.
If I could have had added a subtitle to this post I think the full title would have been Old School Renewal, The Good, The Bad, and The Goddamn Ugly.
What a strange week of busy work, doing stuff, riding, and weather.
Amazingly enough, I got three rides in this week. All three were rather short but all three were good, and different in their own way.
For me, this time of year between winter and actual spring is one of the worst times. It can often LOOK like it’s a beautiful spring day but upon leaving the house you quickly realize that it’s only 30˚ with a 20+ MPH wind which makes it feel like it’s 15˚ and despite the winter gear that you stuffed your muffin top into you want to turn around, head home and crawl into your still warm bed in the Chamber of Farts.
The “you” in the above scenario is, of course, me, and this happened to me on my rides on both Friday and Sunday and resulted in varying degrees of suck that left me wanting a new hobby that doesn’t require freezing my face off and uncontrollably cussing into the deafening wind like a Tourettes riddled fat man in a lycra sausage casing.
Yesterday morning was spent getting some things done, but mostly fucking around trying to find a gallery plugin that I liked. There are some real crap plugins out there.
My ass is finally ready for some time in the saddle, but sadly there has been none. Lots of things have got in the way, mostly me not wanting to ride in 35˚ temps with 20 MPH winds and a bout of laziness.
