
Stick a pin in this post, right—— HERE!

Homemade black bean burger. #Cat5Cooking
No one likes going to the doctor. Even in my healthiest days many, many, many pounds ago, I wasn’t a fan. Fast forward to age 49, and I am even less of a fan.

That bit of wisdom was seen scrawled on the restroom wall of the Burger Barn in Hoopa, California.1

Having a plan on Friday proved useless, so I entered Saturday planless and brainless. In other words, it was just me being me.
I was up around 8 for coffee, toast, and a couple of dippy eggs before lubing up Mr. Burgundy (not code for sex) and getting my shit together for a quick ride in the rapidly warming morning sun.

“I’m going to do an Out and Back Better Than the Trainer Ride™ today! Wait…” — Me

Say what you want about the necessity, value, and quality of the—went on a bit too long—Soiled Chamois mini-shit show entitled The Quarantine Chronicles, it motivated me to write. Now, not so much.

Like getting rim-burning runs after a hot wing and Natty Light binge, Macro Monday is back! To be honest, I don’t know what that means, or why I felt the need to type it, but what’s done is done2.

I don’t always ride two days in a row, but when I do, I make sure it’s the only two days I ride all week.

Someday this will all be over. Eventually, I will wake up in the morning and know what day it is, and care what day it is. Someday the country won’t be a polarized and divided dumpster fire, and the name of the orange fuck face in the White House will just be a despicable footnote in the pretty darn, not bad history of our country.
Until that day comes, I will keep doin’ what I do to make life fun: ride bikes, take photos, hike trails, love my wife and kid, watch the footy, drink beer, and make food.