People say that life is full of bad decisions, that you can learn from your mistakes and all sorts of bullshit like that. I hope that there is some truth to in those words, but rarely in my life have a learned anything from my bad decisions — other than I make a lot of bad decisions.
As I eluded to in the last post, mid-Michigan was about to/is getting bitch slapped in the face with the meaty dick of a heat wave. I was quite used to warm humid summers under “partly cloudy”1 skies back in Pittsburgh, but here in Michigan, with 8 months of cold temps, a 95˚ day feels like it’s 350˚ and the air is like breathing through the UltimAir 100% polyester crotch of a size 3XL pair of Breezies™ whilst being worn by a 6XL QVC home shopper. While some may find that incredibly erotic and spank-worthy, I do not. Well, at least not while riding my bike.
It’s April 17th, and we Michiganders remain slung over a barrel with our snow pants down to our ankles as the rhythmic slapping of relentless ice, snow, and wind continues.
B’s school is closed for the second day in a row, and I haven’t been in the saddle of my bike in 5 days. In fact, no stuff has been done in nearly 5 days: weights go unlifted, the treadmill remains stagnant, and the pedals of my trainer bike remain in the same position which I left them weeks months ago. Running shoes and hiking boots remain closeted, and my mind has deteriorated into a vile mushy substance usually scraped off the bottoms of shoes while muttering obscenities and trying not to inhale.
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.
The week thus far has got off to a SLOW start in the “doing stuff” department. Seriously, I’ve seen slung poo crawl down a wall faster.
After an 11 day (ride) fast in silent protest of the endless winter cold, I finally forced myself outside on Thursday.
The past few days I have continued my ongoing silent protest of the relentless Michigan winter by refusing to stuff myself—and the 50 extra pounds of human flesh I haul around on my frame—into various layers of form-fitting gear in the name of a crap bike ride. Those 15 minutes of flesh stuffing can be used better by doing things like Googling an old Judas Priest song that popped up in a recent dream, watching pasta water boil, reheating leftover chili (so good!), staring blankly at the wall, taking photos of Jake (the dog), or waiting for beer to rapidly cool in the freezer while playing EA Sports FIFA 18.
Last week started with about six or seven inches of snow and icy roads that forced schools to cancel. Somewhere in the middle of the week the temps warmed up towards 50˚ and the aforementioned snow all but melted. Then come to the end of the week the temps dropped again and froze the roads solid which aided me in finally getting out for a ride.
Three tomatoes are walkin’ down the street.
Papa Tomato, Mama Tomato and Baby Tomato.
Baby Tomato starts lagging behind, and Papa Tomato gets really angry.
Goes back and squishes him and says: ‘“Ketchup.”
—Mia Wallace, Pulp Fiction
Despite having lived through 39 Pennsylvania winters and 7 Michigan winters I have yet to learn to embrace winter. I’ve got better at dealing with winter over the years by adding activities like snowshoeing and rides on the Fatterson with my camera into my routine but saying I embrace those activities is just crazy talk.
