I’m unsure when the last time I rode my bike was. According to this here blog it seems that it was a week ago today, but it feels like it could have been a month ago.
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Almost
Sunday morning after I finally had enough coffee and soccer I set about looking for all my cold weather gear so I could venture out into the windy 35˚ day and get a ride in.
I found my Lake winter shoes, thermal bibs, wool socks, base layers, and winter gloves. However the one item I couldn’t find was my balaclava. Not sure if it got lost in the move last spring or what, but the fact remained I didn’t have it. I figured what the hell it’s 35˚ not -35˚, and I did have a thermal skull-cap, so how bad could it be.
Dodging Bullets (Not Really)
Tuesday was Deer Day here in Michigan, a legit day off of school for kids, and sort of like Christmas Morning for gun loving, blood thirsty, meat eating adults across the state. Actually I take that back, it is indeed like Christmas Morning for many, but the rest of that made it sound like I have an issue with hunting and hunters when in fact I don’t. I have an issue with me hunting, but not with the act itself. I’ve never fired a gun or launched and arrow in my 45+ years, but I’m pretty, sort of, kinda sure I could kill an animal, cook, and eat it. It’s the everything in between (guts and stuff) that I couldn’t do. I will happily eat any venison that any of my friends want to give me though, especially summer sausage or jerky!
Sugar Beet Ride
I swear to you, until I moved to Michigan six years ago I had no idea that sugar beets even existed. I knew of red beets only because my grandmother used to pickle and can them, and that I avoided them like the plague. Unbeknownst to me it turns out I’ve probably been eating sugar beets most of my life in the form of sugar. In years past when I saw piles of sugar beets from a distance I assumed they were potatoes or something. Seems I was wrong.
Let There Be Routine
Looking back, last week is a blur. Mostly because life and riding was all over the place; B-Man off one day, Wifey off another, high winds that made the prospect of riding very unattractive, and spending many an evening with a drink in my hand in front of the TV playing EA Sports FIFA to take my mind off the pending demise of our country at the hand of a bad haired, orange, dictator-like buffoon. But that’s over and done with, time to move on, to let the chips fall where they may, and to get back to a routine that includes riding, time in the woods, working out, and not seeking refuge in a bottle.
What Happened?
This week has been a blur of riding, hiking, drinking, self-pity, anger, and resentment. I know I rode my bike once (Monday?). I also know that Tuesday was spent at the bike shop getting a crap ton of stuff done to the Boone, and that Wednesday I rolled down the driveway, into the cul-de-sac, said “fuck it,” rolled right back up the driveway into the garage, changed out of my kit and went to find peace and solitude with a walk in the woods.
The End of The Beginning, First
In my last post I recounted going out for a hike walk in the woods on Thursday with my camera. I was finally starting to rid myself of the cold and flu shit that I had going on, and I was happy to be goofing off in the woods. Still, I longed for a ride. Thankfully after spending my free time on Friday mowing grass (for the last time?), I would finally get to ride on Saturday, Sunday, AND Monday. Thrice as nice!
A Lumber in The Woods
Lumber
verb
lum·ber \ˈləm-bər\
1: to move ponderously [Ponderously, what the hell does that mean?]
Ponderous
adjective
pon·der·ous \ˈpän-d(ə-)rəs\
1: of very great weight [Seems about right]
2: unwieldy or clumsy because of weight and size [Yep, still seems right]
3: oppressively or unpleasantly dull [OK, that seems a bit much, but two out of three wins]
Wednesday night I had one of the best night’s sleep all week. Meaning that I didn’t spend the whole night mouth breathing and dealing with flu-like aches and pains for eight hours. Given that I haven’t done any physical activity since Saturday I knew I needed to do something–anything–outside. I was feeling better, but I also knew that a ride was probably not the best choice just yet, so I found my heavy (but water proof) crap hiking boots, and headed to one of our nearby county parks to lumber around the wet woods for four miles and take some photos.
I didn’t exactly burn four days’ worth of comfort foods and pity alcohol off my Merriam-Webster defined clumsy, oppressive, unpleasantly dull body of great weight and size, but I did get outside, took some photos, and enjoyed the first day of the week that I didn’t just want to sit in a vat of scalding hot chicken soup and pray for the end of days tethered to this planet.
Gone and Back
As I mentioned in my last post I was sort of sick, then that turned into balls out sick for a day or so, then by Friday the illness went away, and I was stoked. The snow we got on Wednesday had melted, and I got out for some muddy dirt road rides on Friday and Saturday and felt really good. Then on Sunday we spent the day freezing our asses off in Bay City watching B take part in a one day soccer tournament (they won it, yeah). Then around 3 AM on Monday I woke up with all sorts of sludge in my sinuses, and full on body aches. Oh yeah boy, the illness that had been gone, was now indeed back. There was much mental cussing.
Fighting It
At the end of my last post I mentioned that I was flirting with illness, that a sore throat had developed along with some body aches. Thankfully the sore throat went away, but the aches and joint pain have lingered on, I also bypassed the casual flirting and went right into some Trump-style heavy petting with some coughing and stomach issues. No vomit, and no flappy sphincter, but at times over the past two days I have felt that I was right on the cusp of it, with a taste in my mouth akin to licking the metal handrail of a men’s room handicap stall. As you might imagine, since Monday, there has been no riding.