The week thus far has been a three day blur of riding, house shit, chores, heat, humidity, traveling, soccer practices, and AC repairmen. None of that is all that bad except for the AC needing repaired during one of the hottest summers I’ve experienced in my almost six years here in Michigan. Thankfully we had some sort of appliance, warranty bullshit and that covered the cost of the repair. Now just to hope that the thing holds on for the summer without having to have the unit replaced!
I was up super early Monday morning to go to a 3:30 AM physical therapy appointment (OK, it wasn’t 3;30 AM, but it sure felt like it). I was stretched, yoga-balled, pounded, rolled, BOSU-balled, etc., etc., in the ever failing attempt at having my back and hip feel normal during rides.
With two straight days filled with work, stress, home issues, and 45th birthday angst behind me, I woke up on Friday anxious to get out for some miles and picture snapping. It took a while to get my mojo going, but eventually it all worked out.
Thursday was my birthday (thank you, but no gifts please). It seems I turned 45 years old, even though for some weeks I was convinced I was turning 46. Maybe that’s because my body feels way older these days? In any event, it’s been a long-standing tradition of mine to try to get out for a ride on my birthday to celebrate another of year of being healthy and fit enough to do such things. That my birthday plan… until it wasn’t.
I finally got a good night’s sleep in, and was enjoying the first day this week that I didn’t have to be up super, ass crack of dawn early. Then Wifey burst into the bedroom saying something like “THE CLOSING’S AT 9:20 NOT NOON!!! SHE TOLD ME NOON! SHE TOLD ME NOOOON!! IT’S IN MY CALENDAR!! I SWEAR!! Oh, and she said that the buyer wants us to remove some cabinets and some other shit from the garage.”
To say I had a bad night of sleep would be an understatement–I tossed, I turned, I farted, I peed, my heart rate was about 150 BPM, and had some pretty lucid dreams. Had I had three cups of coffee, a hit of blotter acid, and an eight ball of coke I would have totally understood, but didn’t. Just a crap night of sleep that had me taking refuge in the guest room so as to give Wifey a rest from my tossing, turning, and farting.
After a good ride on Tuesday I was pretty optimistic about going a few miles further this morning. I mapped out a route, filled my bottles, said goodbye to B-Man and headed out. Down the driveway, into the cul-de-sac, out to the main road…. and meh.
As I rapidly age and discover, and rediscover, other interests like eating and drinking to excess, worrying about the dog urine spots on my lawn, and taking photos, there are days that I just don’t feel like stuffing myself into a Superman outfit and riding. Somedays I’m content to satisfy my urge to be outside with a walk down the road to the local park and traipse around the woods for a bit with my camera and then do some yard work. Don’t judge. OK, go ahead judge, I probably need it.
I knew Thursday was going to be a busy day bookended by a 7th Grade “promotion” event at B’s school in the morning, soccer practice in the evening, and a scheduled MRI for me and back thrown in the middle. I had put the idea of a ride out of my mind, and just planned on getting some work done in between all of that. But, the day was too nice, and I am too slack, so I squeezed in a flat, quick (in theory), windy and slow (in reality), 21 mile loop from the house.
With my Saturday morning sadly void of Premier League football to watch, and the Champions League final not coming on until around 3 that afternoon, I decided to once again return to woods for some miles on the PrOcal.
