Wednesday brought another welcomed chance to ride, and attempt to burn off some of the calories I put on over the past week (and years) of rideless slack. It was also a chance to ride dirt and gravel roads south of town. Some of those roads proved to be no day at the beach, even though they were very much like riding on one.
After Sunday’s short, miserable windy ride, I had little desire to do anything but what was required of me as a father, husband, and human being on Monday. I did what I had to do, and got it over with… sort of like me in grades 1 through 12.
Tuesday marked one week since I last rode my bike. It also marked the last day I broke a sweat doing anything other than breaking a fever (or wind). The days that weren’t marred by illness were marred by heavy rain, high winds, or traveling for B’s soccer matches. And the days not marred with any of those things, were marred by a much dreaded, mentally crippling overnight trip down to Chicago to hang out with Wifey for a night while she was away at a work conference.
After last Tuesday’s ride, the rest of the week was lost to illness and shit weather. Thursday night I finally got more than 2 hours of sleep, as a result I felt the best I had in days on Friday. Not “let’s go for a ride” good, but good enough to catch up on some adulting, then hang with B-Man and Jake (the dog) in the yard of the Cul-de-sac Shack, capturing some of the backyard nature that can be found around our home with my camera. Due to a complete lack of doing anything, all of today’s images are from that afternoon of backyard slack.
As I mentioned here in my last digital dispatch of dystopian cycling life, I appear to have contracted some sort of allergy. Since Tuesday morning I’ve been dealing with itchy eyes, sinus pressure, a scratchy throat, clogged ears, coughing, endless streams of snot, and a bright red nose that only goes to further the general public’s assumption that I am some sort of jobless, beer drinking scoundrel.
Alas, it’s taken me two days, and two sleepless nights to finally admit; I don’t think this is an allergy, I think I’m ill. If it’s not illness, it’s one bastard of an allergy, and the trees from which the pollen spores fled should be burnt to the ground by hordes of torch wielding warriors on horseback, Game of Thrones style.
Monday’s 45 mile ride was one of the best rides I’ve had in 2017. Everything just fell into place; warm, but not too warm, low wind, good legs, and a great attitude. Tuesday’s ride… not so much.
I didn’t plan to ride on Wednesday, but Thursday’s weather looked to be (and is) about as inviting as a rain-soaked, paper bag full of dog excrement, and I wanted some miles in, so I did a short ride. To my surprise, the world unfortunately plodded on, the house didn’t collapse, and no kittens died due to my 1.5 hours on the bike doing a Better Than The Trainer Ride™.
However rural Michigan did continue to provide entertainment for me, as well as make me sigh, shake my head and wonder about the state of our society, all while burning a few calories and getting some miles in. Beats watching The View in my underwear while eating raw cookie dough.
As I’ve mentioned here many times before, Mondays are usually my days to catch up on all the stuff that I should have done over the weekend, but didn’t. This Monday was also a day that I should have fired up Illustrator and worked on a project that I keep putting off, and off, and off, and off, because it’s driving me mad, and I have the attention span on a 5-year-old on meth. So, it remains unfinished.
It was Monday, the sun was out, no lives were hanging in the balance from what needed done, and the world creeps ever closer to nuclear war due to the orange troll in charge of our country. So I said “f*ck it,” and rode my bike.
Playing a bit a catchup here after a busy, rainy Thursday which, doing stuff wise, only included 40 minutes of Dreadmill® running, and lifting heavy stuff for no reason in the basement of the Cul-de-sac Shack. So here on Friday we’re lookin’ at Wednesday, and ride-wise, I don’t like what I’m seein’.
Monday was a hodgepodge of adulting, fruitless attempts at a design project that I volunteered to help out with, and other crap-o-lah like lifting heavy things for no reason in the basement. All of that was done while dodging rain drops, enjoying spring temperatures, and waiting for some promised evening thunderstorms to arrive and send those spring-like temps back to into the 40s and 50s, thus making for a more “normal” Michigan spring. Like the saying goes “If your nipples ain’t hard, you ain’t in Michigan.”