Tag Archives | unsolicited opinion

Ready To Canoodle

Shortly after hitting the publish button on my last post and digesting my daily Soiled Egg (White) Sammich, I gathered my bottles and gear, found my fender, stuffed myself into some too-small bibs and the only jersey I have that fits, and headed out for a SLIGHTLY Better Than The Trainer Ride™ before any rain moved back into the area.

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Summiting II

This all seems very familiar to me. And by “this,” I mean writing a post about something I did 2 days ago and now having little desire to write about. And not just because it wasn’t that interesting!

Yet, I still write. Sorry.

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Doing Both

My Monday was filled with all the business that Monday brings, so I was confined to the Dreadmill™ for 3 miles of lumbering and sweating my ass off to the latest techno “hits” featuring “a good beat that you can dance to,” all the while trying not to fall off the damn thing to become another sad A.A.R.P. treadmill statistic. 

*Let us now bow our heads and remember all of our geriatric brothers and sisters who have fallen whilst booty-shaking on treadmills.*

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What Direction?

For better or worse, I was on a bit of a roll with posting. Then I didn’t for a few days; now I don’t know where to begin. Shit.

From what I can remember, I’ve been balls deep into watching my food intake and working out every single blessed goddamn day like I’m an Olympian as I try to lose the weight that so cleverly attached itself to me via years of being on the antidepressant hamster wheel. 

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Exclamation Point!

There has been no ride since my last ride. That’s a bummer, but I’ve tried to keep moving with six nine miles of Dreadmill lumbering over the past two three days. Me walking/jogging on a treadmill is not exactly blog-worthy1, but as I so often say here on these ill-written digital pages of digital suck, “yet here we are.”

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Better Than Nothing, Again

I was up at 6:15 AM on Friday to embrace whatever fresh hell moderate inconveniences the day might throw at me. It’s been raining for like three days straight, and when it’s not raining, it’s gloomy as fuck as if it were raining. So it took a few extra guzzles of coffee and the promise of sunshine later in the day to finally convince me to start thinking about possibly leaving the house to ride my bike.

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Summiting

WEDNESDAY 7:53 AM

I’ve been up since 6:30 AM, which is pretty normal since I usually go to bed by 9 PM these days. Oddly, it’s dark as night with threatening clouds leftover from last night’s thunderstorms, and I have a feeling it’s going to be like this for most of the day.

Given the rain overnight, I’ll be keeping my Roscoe and its new 29er wheels with low-profile Kenda rubber out of the mud and in the garage1. Instead, I’ve developed a plan to tackle 2 to 3 laps of the Bundy Hill Preserve, hopefully without being struck by lightning. 

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Rides & Bacon Strips

Wednesday, I needed to shoot over to the local lab to get some bloodwork done, and then it was home to the savory arms of a 225 calorie Soiled Egg Sammich1 before getting into some kit, looking at myself in the mirror, thinking about taking the kit off and downing a bottle of gin, aborting that boozy plan for some reason, and then going for a short 20-mile dirt road ride that hurt like it was 120.

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Slugs, Snails, & Stuff

Sunday brought a reprieve from five days of heavy rain and thunderstorms. I had no real plans for the day, but in the late morning, I decided to do a quick walk around the Sylvan Preserve with my macro lens. Wifey tagged along to get some real exercise while I took photos, and then we met up for a bit somewhere in the middle of the trails to finish out the walk.

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Build an Ark

Against the better judgment of the weather goof on TV, but falling in line with my 49 years of poor decisions, I headed out into Summer Monsoon-A-Go-Go 2021 for a walk at Meridian Park on Saturday.

It’s been real build an ark-type weather here over the past week, so any outdoor activity needs to be inside. 1 In other words—it’s been raining a lot, so unless you don’t mind getting wet (spoiler alert, I don’t), you’re better off inside.

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