The Old Bag: January 2010

Monday, January 11, 2010

Monday Mornings

They're the soft tire of the work week,

the rusted link in the chain,

the loose jockey wheel,

the snagged cable housing.

They're the flu just when training is going the best ever,

the tire iron that fell outta the bag,

the season-old ClifBar,

the thinning of favorite shorts.

They're the bar tape that's dirty,

the ding in the saddle that's no longer in production,

the falling-off at the base of the climb,

the cleat that's loose.

- Bag *sigh*

Friday, January 08, 2010

And Then I Said No

Yep, that's sand on the trail...we may be wimpy but at least we're out there!

ice

it's a glamorous pastime

I stepped out the back door with four layers on. The foray to the garage was plotted out with wool baselayers and fleece under the jacket, wind pants, hat, scarf, and heavy duty mittens and boots who the hell came up with the idea of detached garages in MN ?!

I was surprised by the sunshine and relative warmth of the back yard. There was no wind. The day was crisp, but bright and pleasant. Although I was enjoying sitting on my backside after a couple days of skiing, I had to admit it felt great to be outside. Maybe a walk. Maybe Wheel'll wanna head out with the dog and me for a walk....

But he had a different ride in mind. So, let's head over to Wirth! he said to me when I got inside. We went back and forth while I considered some winter singletrack...at 6 degrees.

After all, I've got the studded tires now.

But six degrees!

In the end, life doesn't move too quickly for me on the last day of vacation, I was ready for some sit time, and I wouldn't be cajoled into a mountain bike ride. I told him no. It was damned cold and I just didn't want to be that far from home with no way to get back if there was a problem. While I have warm clothing, it's not quite that warm for that long. Whine. Moan.

Wait a minute! I proposed! He said. And YOU SAID YES!

Damn. He had a point.

I hesitated

but

stood firm. No, I'm ready for a down day. I'm going to head out for a walk.

So, Wheel suited up and rode off toward the singletrack.

And I sat on my backside and read the paper for a bit.

Drummed my fingers.

I'd fully intended to head out with the dog. His booties were on the closet shelf. But in the end I put my booty on the saddle. It was a quick spin down the trail system that passes our house to the north and south, a nice flat ride for the entirety of its 11 miles and never much more than three miles from home. I returned within an hour or so -- Wheel's bike wasn't hanging in the garage, so I figured I'd beat him home.

But as I hauled the bike to the basement, there he was cleaning his.

Busted.

- Bag pogies??