This was a fairly big weekend on the bike. Thankfully, the rain mostly hit at exactly the right times we weren’t riding. Sunday’s foray was, after it rained all night long, a sad day for worm-kind however. Our bikes were absolutely covered in worms within minutes of rolling out. There’d been a text the night before, long after I feel asleep from a friend of mine who said he’d possibly meet us on the road – I confirmed a few hours later where we’d be and when at an hour nobody should be texting.
Sure enough, about five minutes after we were at the intersection we’d texted about, heading south into the wind, here they come, hell bent for leather, right by us – three A guys whom, at the pace they went by us, we had no desire in keeping up with. Four miles later, our group caught up in the parking lot of a convenience store we always stop at. While some made their way indoors to use the restroom, the rest of us congregated outside to talk about the state of the nation. Greg, who happens to be a pharmacist of excellent repute, asked how I was feeling. As it’s gone over time, every time I thought I was back to normal, I’d have a bit of a relapse and feel rough for a few hours, but it’s steadily gotten better to where I feel quite normal most of the time and I’m entirely off Tylenol or Dual Action Advil.
That got Greg thinking – and it’s something that I’ve thought of over the last couple of weeks as well; he wondered aloud if some of my problems centered around the fact that I went for a ride immediately after getting my first poke. Literally, 45 minutes after getting jabbed, I was down the road with my buddy, Chuck. Most people will sit with the shot in their arm muscle. I, on the other hand, was pumping that stuff all through my system by exercising. The reason for the speculation was the intense nature of my reaction and the duration. My friend said he’s only seen (or even heard of) one other reaction as bad as mine. That discussion got me to an obvious conclusion: I get my second jab next Friday and there’s no question I’m taking that day off the bike. I need to go through that mess again like I need a hit in the head!
That said, other than getting a considerable amount of sleep (between actual “at night” sleeping and naps, I caught up on about a year’s worth of waking up way too early), I felt quite good through the weekend. I tried to ride Friday afternoon but was stopped in my tracks by some ominous clouds that would have opened up on me had I stayed out in that mess. Saturday was a lively spring ride north of 19-mph for an average for 47 miles. Saturday was my very definition of fun. Sunday’s ride started out a little sketchy with a bit of drizzle and cloudy skies. The pace was a little slower than Saturday’s, but the companionship was excellent. 53 miles at 18.2 – we had an 18.8 average at 41 miles but I rode Mike home the long way both ways so I could pad my mileage a bit. Mike had no desire to hold the 18.8 average, and I didn’t, either. We talked about life and work all the way to his road before I turned around and took it to the barn.
Then, in the afternoon my wife and I headed to the tennis courts with our daughters. My eldest has been itching to give me a go now that she’s been practicing with the team for a few weeks. She’s gotten noticeably better and ended up taking it to me 6-5. I played a few games with my younger daughter until I was completely out of gas. We went home and had some supper and I crashed out on the couch, probably way too early.
I didn’t get much done around the house, but that was one incredible weekend. Good times and noodle salad, for sure.