The title of this post suggests that I am going to wax poetic about my ongoing fisticuffs with the “black dog,” attempt to sell you some sort of $19.99 faux copper-infused compression stocking snake oil shit that will dull the pain of your torn rotator cuff, or talk at length about the greatness of the song Cure For Pain by the band Morphine.1 But I’m not, I’m gonna talk about my ass. Again!
Tag Archives | not doing stuff
Better Than But Chafed
The second cup of coffee is now down my gullet. There is still much work to be done in the getting awake department and even more to be done in the wanting to be awake department as a cold rain pisses down outside my window.
The Post Since The Last
At the end of my last post I mentioned that I was getting ready to head up to MMCC to ride some singletrack. I did, it was fun, and unbelievable that it happened nearly a week ago. I got sidetracked, then did other stuff, then got busy, then got sidetracked again. In this post I do some catchup with riding and life, mostly with the use of photos.
Lumbered Miles
The week thus far has been void of major miles.2 There has only been one ride so far and that clocked in at just over 29 miles. There were also two 3 mile interval runs lumbers on the treadmill due to time restraints, weather, and a twist of end of summer ennui.
Time Off With Good Results
I recently went on a five-day stretch without riding and to be completely honest I really didn’t miss it, until I did.
Getting Back, Sort Of
After Wednesday’s crap 16-ish mile ride I took Thursday off the bike and just goofed off and got caught up on some stuff.
By Friday I was feeling better mentally and ready to ride, but could have used better legs. I got a half way OK ride in and took some photos, but that was about the extent of it.
Not Speaking in Code
After Sunday’s ride, I entered a two-day period of nothingness. Other than catching up on some stuff, getting some house chores done, and another doctor’s appointment there was not much going on. Well, I guess there was the rodeo on Tuesday night. Yeah, you read right, Mr. Artsy-Fartsy, Smiths listening, left winger, shaved legged bicycle boy went to a rodeo.
The Last Two
The promise I made to myself to get back into the routine of riding and writing was short-lived. The riding part held up, but I fell short with the writing. I got caught up in processing photos from last Thursday night’s Alma MTB Time Trial, riding, taking and processing my own photos from rides and a rainy Saturday hike. There was also some bitterness and depression, too many beers, and bidding farewell to my friend Mike at his memorial service on Sunday.
Lowering The Bar
This summer I have truly lowered the bar for this blog. I know, I know, that’s seemingly impossible, but I’ve done it. Having said that, I have a list of excuses (and rebuttals) ready to go…
Easier Not Better
A little over a week ago, in the wake of my friend Mike’s passing, I contemplated ditching my bike completely. The prospect of riding my bike on roads and dealing with the ongoing losing battle that cyclists face with motorists was something that I wanted no part of, nor did I want my family to be part of it. Given my ever growing figure, surely I am now built better for such sports as poker, online gaming, and competitive masturbation, more than cycling, so saying fuck it and ordering a copy of The Idiot’s Guide to Poker was at the forefront of my mind. 3.
With the support of friends (some close, some via social media, and emails), I was encouraged to get back on the bike, and to not let the cars win the mental battle (we all know they’ll win the physical battle). As you may have seen in some previous posts, I did get back on the bike, and it was OK enough.
Since that last post, I am happy to say that getting out and riding has gotten easier, but not exactly better.