Last Sunday was April 1st, is also known as April Fools Day. It was also a week ago and the last time the saggy lumps of flesh I call an ass hit the saddle of a bike; a cold morning ride that yielded a mere 20 miles and some crap photos.
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The Sweet & The Short
After a morning of making multiple breakfasts and readying lunches, I took some time to see what I wanted to get done today and what would probably not get done. Then I drank more coffee.
The Slow Start
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.
Complete Almosts
Thursday was a pretty good, not bad time on the bike. I rode, I took some photos, I blathered about it here, and I was ready to do it again on Friday. Sadly, Friday was not ready for me. Shit.
Avoiding Flesh Stuffing
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.
Not Half Good
The ass end of February/dick tip of March was semi-kind to me as far as getting outside to ride my bike. Sure, there was the minor schedule alteration due to an armed suspect at large in the area, a nice helping of psycho winds, and various dad duties to complete but as I’ve said before; at this time of year I am grateful for 1 ride a week and last I got 3! As a chubby, food loving, beer drinking, ex-crap amateur racer that only occasionally gives a shit about anything at all—let alone riding his bike—I’ll take that all day long! But then that ended.
Going Bald
Jack in The Country
After Saturday’s ride, I was eager to get back out for some more. Sadly, Sunday brought 40+ MPH wind gusts (no thank you) and time on Monday did not cooperate. All I could muster was the weakest of attempts at time on the dreadmill. Tuesday, however, was looking much better.
Shots in Arms
Nearly all of last week was spent in the Not So Stankment running/lumbering nowhere slow on the dreadmill as part of my continued efforts to be the fittest fat man on earth. My first “run” of the week was OK, but the second was more crap than usual and I found myself lumbering and walking way more than running. It was sort of pathetic.
Lost Romance
No, this isn’t a post-Valentine’s Day entry about lost love. However, it has everything to do with losing the excitement and mystery of travel.