I know you peeps are hanging on the edges of your collective seats trying to figure out why I’ve been infrequent with the posts this week. I’ve got a cold. Actually, most of the bad feeling is done now but the rattly cough and viscous snot is still with me. There were a couple of days there where my head was all stuffed up like a pinata. Not a cool pinata with good candy and great toys. I mean one of those crappy ones that looks like Sponge Bob, has been on the shelf for four years, the candy is hard and crumbly and mixed with sawdust, and it cracks open with the first feeble whack from a repurposed whiffle ball bat. All I wanted to do was sleep but the cruel irony was that the post-nasal drip leaking down my throat kept waking me every time I felt like I was about to drown in my own bodily fluids. And that was like every fifteen minutes.
The last time I went for a ride was last Thursday. That is until today. I had just made the executive decision to bail on riding for the day and let my snot machine quiet down a bit when a teammate at work suggested a ride. Okay I said but I don’t want to hammer. He’s actually the kind of guy that might not take that as a challenge to ride me into the ground and leave me a limp hacking mess.
The ride worked out pretty well except for the last couple of hills. He set a pretty good pace up the hills and when I got to the point where I figured I was doing more harm than good, I shut it down and dropped like a stone. But really, I could have kept up if I had wanted to. Honest.
Really. I’m not just talking smack here.