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.
After two weeks of riding that had me in the saddle for nearly 9 hours one week and over 9 hours the next, I struggled to make it over the 5-hour mark last week. And this week I will probably struggle even to hit that. Uncharacteristically it will not be from my inherent slack but from real life getting in the way.
Before things get good, they usually have to be bad.
After working all day Thursday at the shop, I was anxious to get out and ride and shoot (pics) on Friday. Sadly that did not work out.
Spent Thursday at the shop building Electra Townies and Cruisers in order to support my ongoing cycling and picture taking habits. Continue Reading →
Wednesday I got out for a quick 22.5-mile ride north of town, mostly on dirt roads. It wasn’t that long, but I was happy to squeeze something in between all the soccer practice drop-offs/pickups, a doctor’s appointment, and other duties. I was in a hurry, and I’ve pretty much exhausted every photo-op on my Standard North Loop, so there ain’t much today.
When I woke up on Thursday morning and thought about all the shit that I wanted to/needed to get done during the day, I assumed that a ride would not be happening.
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.
After a beautiful ride in the July sun on Friday, I did everything I could to motivate myself for another ride on Saturday. It didn’t happen.
After Saturday’s sweat-soaked, meaty dick slap to the face/Breezies™ huff of a shit ride in the heat and humidity, I was toast (almost literally). I felt almost as broken as I do after every ride from December to April. Only this time I was shaking my fist angrily towards the heavens cursing the unholy creation of heat and humidity instead of snow and sub-zero wind chills. A break was due.
The past week contained a little bit of riding, goofing off in the woods with my camera, hanging out with friends, some blood, and some shit. Literally, some shit.
