Dashed home from work Tuesday in time to sneak in 15 miles on the bike. That happens rarely, but I wanted to take advantage of the day, because we were enjoying summer-like temperatures. I rode in short sleeve jersey and shorts, and didn’t even need a base layer. The sun was just behind the horizon as I pulled into my garage at the end of the ride.
Today, I tried to do the same thing. I figured that even if I work a little later than I did Tuesday, I would be able to get in some time on the bike. Besides, who could pass up this weather? We hit 90 (32C)! A guy’s just gotta ride in those conditions.
Alas, it wasn’t to be. I was scrambling toward the end of the day, and it seemed that as soon as I put out one fire, another flared up. I was still sitting in my office, getting the last items crossed off the to-do list, at 5:30 this evening. Even if I let the traffic on the Interstate pull me along at what seems to be their new standard pace of 80 mph (which I did), there was no way I would be home in time for a ride today.
My flexible schedule will allow me to get in a ride on Friday…oh, wait! The car needs an oil change! I get to leave earlier than usual just to sit in a quick lube joint for a half hour (It never takes the 10 minutes they advertise).
When things work out just right, I can ride Tuesday, Friday, Saturday an Sunday. But it’s more likely things won’t work out right, and at least one of those four days will be a washout. It’s not that I have to get in those miles. It’s that I need to ride for my mental well-being. The bike takes care of both health aspects.
I suppose it’s all for the best, because when I do get a ride in, I treasure the time more. And besides, here I am complaining about not riding one day a week when my biking friends up north can’t get out at all. They’re either grinding away on their trainers in the basement, or pedaling or doing the elliptical machine or something else at the local health club. Maybe I don’t have it so rough after all.