The debate on whether to ride or not raged for most of Monday morning. I weighed options, leaned towards making an alternate plan to get stuff done and avoid venturing out of doors on the bike for what would be a 9th straight day but ultimately said “fuck it” and went for a ride.
Oh, the holidays. Not a fan. I struggle on so many levels to actually enjoy them that it’s not worth getting in to. The key for me is to find enjoyment where I can and to make the best of those situations.
My original Black Friday plan was to meet up with a friend of mine for lunch but that plan was nixed before it happened when he was forced to cancel. So, I went with Plan B: a Black Friday hike on the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail.
If there is one universal truth concerning my “doing stuff” in the months of November through March it is that the size of my water bottles is reduced. Under the mid-morning August sun I might drain two large-sized water bottles during a ride, come November I’m either doing stupid workouts indoors or riding outside in the full-nip cold and, despite still being needed, sucking down large amounts of water is pretty unlikely. Thus I start sipping from a smaller bottle instead of big ass magnums. Whatever, it’s just an observation, moving on…
‘Tis Tuesday, probably Wednesday for most readers, so let us first backtrack to Monday…
After a cold ride that failed on multiple levels on Friday, I reluctantly headed back out on Saturday to attempt some sort of redemption. Redemption was had, but just barely.
Wednesday morning brought sunny skies but cold temps and a steady wind out of the west. Motivation to ride was high, motivation to ride in the cold wind was low. A compromise in the form of a Better Than The Trainer Ride™ was made. Who says you can’t have it all!
After three days off the bike due to soccer travel with B, weather, and “stuff,” I was finally able to get out for a ride on a dank fall morning. The ride started off bad, got worse, then got mildly tolerable. There’s no one to blame but myself, for as you all know very well, I. AM. AN. IDIOT.
I was up early Saturday morning to let Jake (the dog) out. He took just long enough to do his business that I put aside notions of returning to the Chamber of Farts, got a cup of coffee and sat down to watch Spurs lose to Man U. I did all of this with the idea that I would not be riding. The gray skies, cold temps, and steady wind made sitting around watching soccer and drinking coffee until it was a reasonable time to drink beer just too appealing.
After multiple days of rain and mud the conditions turned optimal for a dirt road ride south of town on Thursday. While conditions were indeed optimal, it also coincided with our first heavy frost of the fall. Shit be freezin’.
When I woke up on Wednesday morning I assumed that I would try to do the same thing as I did the day before–ride dirt roads, take pictures, burn off some of my beer gut. Sadly, the dark clouds and drizzle made it hard for me to get mentally up for a ride but for some reason, however I was drawn to the idea of stomping around for a few miles with my camera at Deerfield Park.