Today was to be a gorgeous day in the ICT, 70 and Sunny, in late February. It also coincided with my favorite day of the week, Wednesday. This is mine, all mine, except when goaded or provoked by the misses. So I was schoolboy excited but I was also in some kind of physical hell. I just can not seem to recover from the Chili Bike on Sunday. My arms are shot, my bruising fucking hurts, and my leg feels like it could cramp at any moment. Lethargy is my enemy this week and I'm fighting everyday. So take that lethargy and the school girl excitement of warm weather, and you get the fucked up shit I did today. I drove 17 miles to the old stomping ground when I lived in downtown. I can't begin to count the number of rides that have jumped off from the Northwest YMCA. I began to dress for the ride, so excited to be riding outdoors and on tubulars. The first thing that went south was I failed to do a battery check on the MP3 player. NO JUICE. Well I've rode quieter plenty of times, no big deal. Got everything ready and went to put my helmet on. FUCK! Forgot to bring my helmet, it was safe and snug in my drawer at home. Well I talked myself in to riding anyway, I mean I did drive the gas hog 17 miles to get here. Wasn't breaking state law or anything like that so EH! I rode anyway. The ride began, into a very expected hellish West wind. 5.86km (<4mi) in and things were A-OK. Then I heard the pop and the hiss. My tubular had hit something while riding where a tubular shouldn't be ridden. I used my can of quick flate and a CO2 with no result. Thank God you can ride on a flat tubular! My total 11.72km in about an hour.
The day turned out to be quite ok. The misses cut out of work early. She and I picked up the wee one early, taking him to the park. There is no greater joy as a father then playing with your child. We ran his legs off and by 6 pm he was about to fall out.
