Dual-Sport Idiot

Saturday.  I had a ride planned and then I didn't and then I did.  All that happened on Friday and is not important.

Up early with the dogs, four waffles, ride over to Bike Source to meet up with Brian, Paw and Jordan.  Headed west to do the Heartbreak Ridge/Kitsuma combo, a ride which usually leads to just doing Heartbreak and bailing on Kitsuma 90% of the time.

Evidence of the mudslides on Old 70 was everywhere. 

The same old "How are we getting up to Old Toll Road?" and "I think it's this way, or is it that way?" conversations are had.  We do the not-quite-at-the-gate right hand turn that makes getting turned back at the gate seem like never the way to go.  If you've been there, you get it.  If not... consider yourself better for it.

Up Rattlesnake and up the "new" Old Toll Road.  So much of it washed away and "repaired."  Soft dirt interspersed with displaced loose rock.  I don't think anyone is going to beating any STRAVA times going up in the near future.

After we descend the upper and most gnarly part of Heartbreak, Jordan is coming down with the forearm and leg pump that this trail can deliver in spades.  He doesn't have Kitsuma in him.  Brian and I leave him with Paw, committed to pulling off the full pull.  On the climb up Mill Creek Rd, I can feel myself getting woozy.  Two bottles of low calorie electrolyte drink and three gels do not bridge the nutritional gap when a four hour ride ride starts four hours after breakfast.

Down Kitsuma and realize I lost a bottle on some of the chunder.  I'm an idiot.  I thought I felt it jostling about coming down Heartbreak and told myself to bend my King Cage inwards when I got the chance.  I didn't.

I wait for Brian.

"Did you pick up my bottle?"

"That was your bottle?"

Meh.

I hike back up until I see a couple hikers.

"Did you see a bottle?"

"No."

Meh.

Start riding back down and see my bottle in an impact crater of leaves.  Pick up my bottle, start riding again... begin to wonder if I'm going the wrong way on Kitsuma...

And then realize there is no way that's possible, but if I'm thinking that stupid of a thought, mebbe my brain isn't quite fully in gear.

Take it easy the rest of the way down.  Beer, burrito, home.

The next day, I decided to run six miles.

"You shouldn't be running that far.  A 10% increase from your last run makes more sense, and you should probably take a gel or something with you." ~ The Pie

Pfffft.

Last week, I ran just under three miles on Monday and a 5K on Wednesday and Friday.  I know this because The Pie knows exactly where these out-and-back points on the greenway are.  So smart, she is.

I committed to doing the whole six as an out-and-back, and I did just that.  Got home in just under fifty minutes.  Washed my car, cleaned the interior, washed both bikes, removed decals from the sold (but not picked up yet) Bronson, mowed the yard... and then I could barely walk.

Doh.

So about half of what she said was right.

Today, my Achilles tendons are so pissed off at me.  Walking is just a strange limp-waddle, and riding a fixed gear is... interesting?

Now, I'm just hoping I can ambulate like a normal person and ride a bike in a pain-free manner by Saturday.  If I screwed the pooch on this Grand Targhee trip, I'm gonna be a sad dad.