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.
This week was LONG, pretty crap, and I got very little riding in. So, I will just visually mutter a few words and post some pics.
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 crap ride on Wednesday and a day playing catch-up with house/dad/husband duties on Thursday, I found myself unmotivated to ride before getting tires on the car Friday morning and without enough time to ride after.
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.
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’ve been doing this whole blogging thing for a while now; since April 2005 to be precise. I’ve seen many a blogger come, and many a blogger go since then. Most of that was due to the instant-gratification-self-love that was brought forth via Facebook and Twitter. I’ve dabbled in those platforms for sure, but the only real social media platform that I feel compelled to be a part of—beyond blogging this pixelated shit storm—is Instagram.