After three days of indoor workouts, I finally escaped the confines of the Cul-de-sac Shack’s underground bunker to pedal out of doors. However, given that at ride time it was about 27˚ with 10-15 MPH winds blowing out of the north-west, it took a LOT of self loathing, guilt, and promises of meaty lunchtime rewards to get me into the multiple layers of cold weather gear and out on the road.
Goddamn you March…. Goddamn you straight to hell. Too much? Probably, but who cares.
After 48 straight hours of gusting 25 to 40 MPH winds that sounded like an eternal freight train passing by the house, things finally mellowed out on Thursday morning. I almost got used to the constant roar of wind through the pines and the sound of lawn furniture blowing off of patio decks, but I was glad to see them gone. Continue reading
I feel like I need to say a big thank you to February. THANK YOU!
You see my winter riding goal is usually to get out at least once a week, braving the cold, snow and ice on the Fatterson with studded tires. The rides are usually no longer than 20-25 miles, I’m cold and miserable for most of the ride, and I swear that I’ll never do it again as I mentally plan my “let’s move someplace warm” sales pitch to Wifey. The rest of the time I hole up in the basement on the Drainer® or the Dreadmill® and pray that I’ll miraculously find fitness, despite not riding and drinking too much beer. Even back when I gave a shit about racing (that seems like a long time ago) I didn’t venture out too often in January and February. I would go to the gym, strength train, ride the trainer and use the StairMaster for hours on end.
Despite its brevity, February in Michigan can be a long, depressing bastard of a month. February lodges itself in between the death-like acceptance of winter that January offers and the hopefulness of spring that March provides. Most often it’s bitterly cold, windy, and blanketed with ice and snow. However this February was not “most often.” We had several days of temps between 45˚ and 60˚, very little snow, and just a hint of ice at the beginning. While I am the first to admit that it should not be 55˚ in February, I am in no way going to complain about the ability to log over 265 miles as I attempted to jump start my fitness and hopefully some weight loss.
Riding three out of four days in February is cherished, even if they yield a mere 75 miles combined. Most of the miles were forced to be done on pavement, due to the dirt roads being a bottom bracket grinding, potential collarbone breaking, concoction of ice, slush, mud, standing water, and gritty sand.
All last week as I “ran” on the Dreadmill™, and spun my wheels going nowhere on the trainer, I set my mind to go down to the Cannonsburg Ski Area to take photos at the fat bike and snowboard races they were hosting. I figured I could use the practice and getting outside would do me good.
Some light rain overnight did nothing to help the swampy conditions of the dirt roads, but the warm-ish 40˚ temps were enough to poo poo an indoor workout and get out for a quick Better Than The Trainer Ride™ (Plèasant – Bêal – Plèasant road ride edition) before another round of “wintry mix” moves in.
What a week! Monday night’s five inches of snow turned into a snow day for B on Tuesday. Snow turned to rain Tuesday afternoon and melted most of the snow before 30-40 MPH winds kicked up and falling temps moved in overnight freezing everything solid. That resulted in second snow day on Wednesday. Then Wednesday night wet got a wintry mix of snow, rain, and freezing rain, followed by falling temps which meant another snow day on Thursday. HOLY GROUNDHOG DAY!
Even though school was finally back in session on Friday, everything was covered with a mix of frozen winter puke and that meant a fifth straight day of running on the treadmill. In my own way I’ve been enjoying the challenges and the pains of being a non-runner attempting to run, but five days in a row was a bit much. I needed to ride!
Part I (On The Couch Whilst Sitting In a Recliner)
New Year’s Eve had some promise; Wifey and I had the house to ourselves, good food to eat, and a fridge full of good beer. Sadly by 9:00 PM all that promise turned into Wifey pissed at me because of my opinion on how I can’t see any good that could possibly come from 2017 (I still stand by that, the world’s f*cked), and debating my talents (her words) and lack there of (my words) as I head into another year without a paycheck.