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OK, so I managed a little bit of labor today. A very little bit, and it was all Cindy’s fault.
The day started out easy enough. Lounge around all morning, just until Cindy offers the suggestion we go to BW3s. Sure, I had to help her deliver a wedding cake first, but… OK.
After that she announced she was gonna do yard work.
I thought maybe it was me turning 40 that explained why my memory had gone soft. But this week I’ve found out a) it ain’t just me, and B) 40 has nothing to do with it.
Nobody seems to know what day it is, or what day things are supposed to happen. Read more on What Day Is It?…
When I say I’m taking a rest day, I really take a rest day. Except for occasional moments fetching food and beverages, I’ve either been lounging around in bed or laying on the couch. Ever since I got home from my massage.
Oh, and I did sneak out of the house long enough to go on an ice cream run. Susie’s Little Dipper is a small independently owned shop just a block up from the bakery. The cool thing about Susie’s is that about half of their flavors are homemade. They have fun little names like Anna’s Bananas, Coleton Crunch (Butterscotch), etc. They have a unique Root Beer flavor, and another that mixes chocolate with cayenne pepper! Sounds gross, but works quite well. It’s quite strong, but good in small doses. Which is the other reason I like to go there. They have a 5 scoop “sampler” for three bucks. Mini scoops. All 5 are about the same amount as two normal scoops. Perfect for people like me who have zero ability to make decisions.
Is there supposed to be screaming when you get a massage? That’s bad, right?
OK, maybe it wasn’t quite that bad, but lets just say that somehow I’ve managed to wreck myself as bad as I ever have. Kathy was trying not to cause too much pain, but I kept telling her she had to “fix me”, so just do what she had to do.
I have a feeling I’m going to be more sore tomorrow, and maybe Sunday too, from laying on a table, than I ever have been from riding.
That’s the problem with writing a journal that is published and visible… when you’re being a pussy, everybody knows it. But secretly, I want the sympathy so I don’t mark things as “Private”.
That said, I don’t know if anybody has noticed my MO, but I use my own personal soapbox/forum here at DJOJ to get the dark thoughts worked out and try to arrive at a good conclusion by the time I’m done writing.
Maybe I should write a blog while I’m pissed, but I’m pissed and I’m writin’ my blog. Fair warning: go somewhere else if you don’t want to hear my whining and crying.
It seems my journey towards an Ironman has hit a roadblock after only 2 miles (of “running”
. And what really has me upset is it has nothing to do with running. I don’t know if it was the ride at Cumberland, or the Ramble, or both, or if all of it was influenced by that stupid fucking attempt at wakeboarding, but I went out to run a couple miles after work, and made it all of 20 steps today before I was limping and had to stop.
With the last real ‘event’ on my calendar being Cheat, and the last Ramble having come and gone, I’ve decided it’s time to start sandbagging. There’s a lot of hard riding that could be done in September, but I ain’t gonna be the one doing it. If anybody is of the same mindset, and wants to join me in the Groupetto, great.
Highlander and CFC are difficult by virtue of their length and verticality, but beyond that, it’s play time. I actually started play time early, as soon as Mayhem was over. The last Ramble was the one exception. Wednesday was not only the last Ramble, it was the first night I had to put a light on the bike to get home. That means it’s fall, regardless of what the calendar says, and it’s time to switch gears (pun intended).
Whew! I am so glad that’s over. What? I’m not sad that the last Ramble of ’08 has come and gone? Nope, not even a little bit. It has it’s time and place within the “season”, but the body can only take so much pain and suffering. And my body has had enough. I missed a lot of Rambles, but the ones I did are more than enough.
Special thanks to Vince (Rhino) for making the ride extra painful. Would I be an asshole if I called you an asshole? Who cares. Asshole.
After my goofing around with the climb up the Grider Hill Dock access road, the houseboat trip got under full swing. I debated about it a bit, and since I wasn’t hitting the frosty malt beverages too hard on Friday night, opted to do my Cumberland Ride on Saturday instead of Sunday. That would accomplish two things.
My Ironman training ‘officially’ began today.
Quite an auspicious sounding statement for what, in reality, was an underwhelming, and a little bit pathetic, 2 mile ‘run’. But ya gotta start somewhere, right? As I quoted a week or so ago:
A journey of a thousand miles, starts with a single step.
Well, here’s my big awesome route profile for the Cumberland Lake to Cumberland Falls ride…
As you can see, from mile 0, the ride begins with a climb. This is to be expected, since the first thing you see when starting from any kind of boat dock or marina or resort, in the middle of Kentucky, via a road… is A WALL.
OK, so it’s been four days, and the pain lingers, so I guess it’s OK to write about the Mayhem ride on Sunday.
After Cheat and the long drive home from WV, I would have been much smarter to simply go home. But… I’m not smart. So I showed up out at Caesar’s Creek and would ya believe it… I was the first one there! 
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