Me, this morning, in my garage, not feeling it
I'm not going to lie, I didn't feel like mounting Serena and riding the SART to work this morning but I'm bound and determined to ride this entire week. Luckily for me, Mark was riding with me this morning so I didn't have the option of being a quitter and driving to work. I was leg weary, bitter, and suffering from intense gas, but I still managed to climb aboard and make it happen.
I realized yesterday that riding every single day to work AND going to the gym at lunch requires an alarming amount of clothing so, since I was totally unmotivated last night, and didn't want to do anything this morning, I packed the same gym clothes I wore yesterday. Screw it, who cares if I smell like a dirty asshole when I go work out at lunch, that's everyone elses problem and they should respect the fact that I'm barely hanging on here.
Mark and I took off and were having a nice ride when all of a sudden, we came to the First Street bridge and saw that the SART was closed on both sides of the bridge. Some salt of the earth, blue collar dude approached us and said "YOU GUYS CAN'T RIDE HERE TODAY. THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SIGN BACK THERE SOMEWHERE. WE'LL LET YOU GET OFF HERE BUT YOU'VE GOTTA HEAD OVER DOWN THERE TO JACKSON AND RIDE THAT WAY!". First, why was he yelling? Second, there was no sign and 'back there' is entirely too vague. Third, I have no clue whatsoever where Jackson is and how I was supposed to get to it. So we got the hell off the SART, and onto the busy congested street and looked for Jackson.
Upon finding Jackson, we discovered that it runs through a shitty neighborhood and right past a school where apparently all the parents completely ignore any and all traffic rules. I could tell Mark had had enough and he just took off, weaving through the cars, wrong side of the road, kicking school children, trying to get back to the SART as quickly as possible. It was a bad scene and we needed to get the hell outta there.
Finally we found our way back to the SART and got to the gym so I could sit in the steam room and listen to Mark rip farts and make comments on them. I have to admit, for whatever reason, when someone comments on their own farts and they have an English accent, its more amusing than a regular American guy commenting on his farts. After a quick steam, I took a half assed shower, didn't shave, and rode on to work.
I guess life just has a way of balancing out because yesterday was a great day for a ride, the stuff that riding dreams are made of, and today was pretty much a giant shit sandwich. Such is life.