Two Wheel Blogs

Okay, I'll admit it: going for the cyclocross ride this afternoon was totally unnecessary and, in retrospect, probably a mistake. I didn't have to ride. I chose to. And here's why I did.

"I'm going to the pool," my wife announced after lunch.

"I can meet you after your workout. We can whirlpool. What time will you be done?" I asked.

"3:30. Ironically, that's the same time we were to meet yesterday. Let's try for a better outcome this time," she said. And off she went.

Now, at this point, I could have just at stayed home, sat on my butt, and watched the Iron Man Triathlon championships on NBC. That would have been inspiring.

But no, not me. I couldn't just watch the world's best triatheltes compete. No, if I was going to whirlpool, I was going to earn it. Since my road by is still at the shop for repairs, that left the cyclocross bike. And with the first race (Hermann Under The Lights 9.18) a little over a month away, it's about time to get out the Scattante and get used to climbing. So I suited up and off I rode.

I headed for the SIU-E single-track trails. I wasn't riding them hard or fast. I was just "going for a roll" on them, trying to get a little workout in before hitting the whirlpool at the health club. I kept my eye on the time, as I needed to leave the trails in time to be at the health club by 3:30. I was plotting my exit route as I came to a curve with a deep patch of mud in it. Foolishly, I did not want to ride straight through the muddiest part of it because -- and I know this sounds silly -- I didn't want to get my bike any dirtier than it alreay was. So, as I approached the puddle, I slowed to pick the driest, most solid line through it. I thought I could skirt it. And, as I had that thought, my front wheel sank into the mud, stuck, and I came to a dead stop. I could not get my right foot unclipped fast enough so, you guessed it, over I fell. Onto my right side, the same side I'd scraped up in yesterday's wipeout.

Cursing myself for being so stupid, I picked up my bike and remounted. I checked my watch. It was 3:00. This was, within ten minutes, exactly 24 hours since I'd wiped out on Saturday. "Great," I thought as I rode on, "at least I'm consistent."

I finished the trail I was on, then took the first road I came to and headed for the health club. I timed it well, arriving at 3:28. I racked my bike, changed into my swimsuit, and headed for the whirlpool. It felt great, and it helped to wash out some of the Delyte Morris bike trail that I was still carrying around in my forearm. Of course, it would have felt even better yesterday -- without the accident. Oh well. "Live and learn." And if you don't learn, you probably don't live very long.

No Mueller Road ride tomorrow. My bike will still be a the shop, and Steve-o can't make it. I think I'll take a rest day before getting back at it on Tuesday. Maybe I can go one day without running into or falling off of anything.