There’s a fat me, sitting in the back of my melon, right next to the frickin’ drunk. That fat bastard isn’t doing push-ups, though. He’s watching the drunk do push-ups, sitting on the couch eating a donut, sipping on a Coke, with his pinky finger pointing straight up.
It’s too hot. It’s too cold. I’m too tired. Work was too hard. The kids were too f’in’… um, kidly…
Those thoughts become donut shop lies when I fall for them myself… then drop them at the donut shop. The folks at the donut shop will back you up, too.
“Yeah, it is way too hot. Only crazy people would be runnin’ around in heat like this!”
Color me extra-crazy. I went out for bonus miles yesterday evening. It was hot out, but it turned out to be a beautiful day, really. After talk on the radio of possible thunderstorms in the evening, we ended up with a sunny, cloudless sky around 5pm. I started out into a cross-headwind that was probably just a shade better than a breeze with gusts up to maybe 15-mph. All of my friends had either ridden already or were indisposed with work or on vacation.
My ride, once I got comfortable (I’ve been fighting a saddle sore of late), was perfect. I did my normal 17-1/2 mile loop and had decided miles earlier I’d stretch it to 21 and change. When I hit the spot to turn around, I decided to add on two more. Then another… then time was catching up with me. I had to grill burgers so I figured I’d better not push it, lest I end up with three very hungry and angry ladies in my house.
You ever have those days where you’re having fun just riding your bike, even into a headwind? That was my evening. To thine own self be true – and I must remember, I’m the only one I can be brutally honest with, and even then, it’s only to be deployed carefully. I see huge people walking, often waddling, around every day and I feel sorry for them… right up until they whip out the donut shop lies outside of the donut shop…
Every day I’m grateful for my life, and for the fact that there is no place in it for donut shop lies. Ride hard, my friends.