One To Forget

I should have known better.

I should have known better and stopped for food on the way home from the mountain yesterday. I should have eaten something better than a freaking cheese and pickle sandwich when I DID get home. I should have known better and NOT drank those beers and just made dinner early. I should have aborted the burgers on the grill idea and just ordered a pizza when the thunderstorms moved in. I should have not eaten dinner at 9 p.m. I should have eaten more for breakfast, I should have remembered to take my vitamins, I should started earlier. I probably should have fashioned a noose out of brake cables and just ended the ride in a big way rather than push on suffering like big fat sweaty lump of human suck stuffed into a Lycra bag coated with a salty white sheen of apathy.


I should have known when I awoke at 4 a.m. with a cramp in my leg that made me want to bite my thumb off that I was dehydrated and not recovered from the mountain sweat fest. Not because the ride was that hard, but because it was that hot, and because I did not recover like a person who wants to ride 40 miles the following day. I recovered like a moron. A moron who had to abort his ride at mile 30 and little ring it back to base. I should have not gone for a ride today. Then again, writing this was kind of fun. So I have that.

Happy Fathers Day to me via Wifey with the gift of Chimay! Thanks!

Suck rides be damned!

Later.