From my best guesstimate I rode twice this week–Tuesday and Thursday thus far, with high hopes for some sort of crap riding over the next three or four days.
Tag Archives | feeling mental
The Painful 5
There was rain in the forecast again for Wednesday, and I really didn’t feel like getting caught out in the gritty mud and rain on the bike again, so I opted for a post-chiropractor trip to Deerfield Park for a four to five mile hike with my camera.
Lack Of & Making Progress
Towards the end of my Tuesday dirt road ride, I found that I was getting some of the hip pain that I usually get when mountain biking. It wasn’t enough to make the ride painful, or get me all pissed off, but I knew it was there. I put it out of my mind and made some plans to ride the Fatterson on Sally’s Trail on Wednesday, since I had to go down the shop to get my Superfly that was getting some love from Napper who was fixed the pedal threads one of my crank arms. Yeah, only I could jack up the threads on the crank installing/uninstalling pedals. I shouldn’t be allowed to touch tools.
Better Focus
Sunday morning I sat at the computer and wrote a blog post about Saturday’s mountain bike ride. Then Wifey came into my office with some sort of failing DVD workout drama and interrupted me. I never did get around to actually publishing that post, and it was probably for the best. See, Saturday’s ride on singletrack didn’t go so well in the back and hip department, and I aborted after about 7 or 8 miles of riding. This left me in a hell of a funk, swearing that I would not even attempt to ride singletrack the rest of 2016, that all that physical therapy was a waste of time and money, and that I should just spend my Saturdays sitting in a comfy chair watching soccer, drinking until I pass out, blah, blah, blah, blah. And most of that stuff is true (especially the blah, blah, blah part).
Regardless of how poor the ride was, or how disappointed I was, I decided there was no point in spreading that self-pity around, and to focus on the fact that I had three rides under my expanding belt before I headed to MMCC to ride on Saturday, and those rides were just fine, so just get out to ride instead of sitting around bitching about one ride.
Three Day Blur
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!
The Power’s Off
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.
I Was Due, Then I Wasn’t
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.
Almost a Hike
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.
A Post Barely About a Ride
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.”
Scratching Two Itches
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.