That was before I made my foot worse by riding during the Grand Targhee trip. I knew it was a bad idea. I went anyways.
So, I made my Stickel beer fetcher up for work to finish out the last two weekdays. Riding fixed/brakeless was too much for my foot and was only making it worse. I rode home Friday during a storm that managed to dump almost three inches of rain on my backyard (dismantling bits of it again in the ensuing rapids). So, get home, reassemble pieces of yard, and settle in for a weekend of doing as much nothing as possible.
It almost killed me.
Aside from a few domestic duties, I did so much nothing. I did soft pedal out to a brewery or two to commiserate with Bill Nye on Saturday, but otherwise, I was staring at screens most of the time.
I went absolute bat shit crazy.
All this in the hopes that I'll be recovered enough to go to the Dirt Rag Dirt Fest on tomorrow. I've been looking forward to this for some time now, and the idea of not going was enough to keep me (almost) couch bound all weekend. Fortunately, there was enough Tour de France and UCI World Cup mountain biking on TV to fill almost half my free time. The other half, I rolled around on the couch feeling as if my compass was screwed up. Being nonproductive as well as inactive does nothing for my mental stability.
I might have organized my clothes in the closet as well as my sock drawers.
And by "might have," I mean I totally did. I stopped just short of organizing my t-shirt piles by color.
Let's see how three more days of taking it easy (and riding a 32 X 18 mountain bike at work) shakes out for me. The idea of just going up there to drink beer and people watch sounds only slightly better than another weekend of couch life.
All that said, I'm mostly super-pissed at myself for over-doing the whole running thing and having it affect my super happy fun times. To think I only started running to gain some fitness and be healthy, and it's had the ass-opposite effect entirely. Being injured in July because I'm a moron blows.
*sigh*
Expect nothing from me tomorrow. I've bought plenty of beer and just enough junk food in anticipation of going to Dirt Fest. I'm focused on making the most of it, even if I'm just going to the Find Your Line Suspension Clinic to learn about suspension set up, function and maintenance.
Even if I don't currently have any "suspension."
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3 comments:
You being a one speed fanatic, I thought I would run this past yinz. I started riding a single speed bike again this winter (first rode them in the late 90's thru early 00's). One thing I have always gravitated (pun-intended) towards is the rowdy side of mountain biking be DH/Freeride/AM/Enduro or whatever you wanna call just going out to look for things to go ove,r off of and sideways on. It has occurred to me that the single speed riders of yore were a much more rough around the edges bunch than those today. It used to be assorted punk delinquents that took nothing seriously including themselves. In contrast, today the ranks mostly seem to be made of XC/roadie types with a chips on their shoulders working to score KOM's via Strava onanism during their "off-season" training. I tend to get plenty of odd looks when I show up wearing knee armor aboard my Honzo, equipped with a dropper post, big ass DH-esque tires and a 140mm travel fork when the rest are in sweet suits/tap shoes aboard ultra light rigid whips. What's your experience with this?
I think a lot of people used to have a single speed in their multi-bike quiver. Eventually, some saw it as less than fun. They dropped it. The people who stuck with it are either too dumb for gears (me) or people in it for the pain (athletes).
I don't think SS is the sole realm of athletes, but I do think the SS athletes "stand out" more than they used to.
If you have any doubts that there is no longer a core of degenerates, come out to Bend, OR in October for SSWC '18 or to Port Jervis, NY in August for SSUSA '18. I assure you, the dirtbags will outnumber the athletes 100 to 1.
I wanted to go and almost did go to the '99 race. I've randomly considered going to one of them, but life generally got in the way. Racing for me is for comic relief (mine and my competitors). Despite my notgivingafuck, I've stood on some podiums, but I otherwise really have only three goals in any race. 1. Make someone laugh, 2. Piss someone off, and 3. do not finish last.
I suppose none of this matters and maybe I am just nostalgic for the days when the single speed tribe were mostly reprobates versus kooks in lycra billboards for whatever bike shop, triathlon, energy supplement they're shilling for. Ride on.
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