When you are expecting three out of three, two out of three is bad.
Apparently some things do change. I was not the first one to arrive, nor the last one to break down at STU. I knew I was asking too much of STU to salvage my month, and some unfortunate events occurred, thus turning it into another weekend I am going to try to forget. It’s troublesome how much I looked forward to a few events during the past two months and how they were turned into depressing memories.
On Friday I somehow managed to ride 69 miles, instead of the forty I anticipated. It was a long, hard day in the saddle, but even after cramping in the 66th mile I finished without walking. I was proud of myself, a feeling that has not occurred since my world collapsed at the beginning of the month. STU was off to a good start, at least in the riding arena.
Then on Friday night I figuratively hit rock bottom and literally jammed my right thumb. The thumb is not broken but was black and blue yesterday, and still a little swollen today; if it doesn’t show signs of improvement soon I will go to a doc-in-a-box to have it checked out.
On Saturday morning, after getting about only four hours of sleep, I went out for a 42 mile ride, packed up my tent, and then returned ITP. I was encouraged to stay in Rutledge, but it was too painful for me to do so. Leaving early reminds me of my olden days when I would leave hash campouts early because I was unhappy. Unfortunate. I will get stronger again, and now allow myself to return to this pattern.
I was a DNS for Sunday after abandoning STU. Even though I was no longer in Rutledge, my legs were trashed from two days of pushing myself beyond my limits, and my thumb was still swollen, I had to ride to prove to myself that I would have been able to complete the weekend had I stayed. I rode my old Stone Mountain route, 39 miles, to bring my weekend total to 150 miles. Given the circumstances you can imagine that it was a melancholy ride at best.
This weekend was an trial to see if I could ride BRAG Light, the first three days of Big BRAG. And, even though my back is a little sore from riding, last night I signed up for it! *mind blown* Over three days in June I will be riding from Columbus to Dublin, and then taking the shuttle back from Dublin to Columbus. I have a lot to learn and plan for this adventure.
Yesterday afternoon I met a couple of buddies for beer at The Po Boy Shop. Before starting for home I called Grant Central East and ordered a large, white pizza to pick up for dinner. It was delicious, and I still have six more slices to eat!
A major chapter of my life closed this weekend. April can go fuck itself and I can’t wait to see its end. I will lick my wounds for another five days and start my life all over again on the 1st of May, which is ironically the day that outdoor fucking starts according to the Jonathan Coulton song.
Though I was “at home” for the better part of the weekend there wasn’t a lot of time available to do much around the house, so all is a bit messy at the moment. I am going to take coffee over to Betsy’s this morning to catch up with her, and then upon returning home start a long day of cleaning, organizing, and WLF choring.
I intended to go to the hash tonight, especially since it starts in Brownwood Park. However, given all of the water that has passed under the bridge this month I think it’s best if I don’t. I’ll run the trail tomorrow morning so I know where I should/shouldn’t lay my SLUT trail on May 5th.
Hope that your weekend was strong and that you are remaining healthy.
I solved today’s Wordle in three attempts; my starter today was ATONE