All week I prepared myself for a weekend of riding. Saturday was going to be a metric century and Sunday a 50 miler.
Saturday, I woke up tired. But still, I got myself ready and drove an hour and half to the start of the ride. A coffee and a red bull later, I just could not wake up. A coffee at the start of the ride still did not wake me up.
Grumpy and tired, I got on my bike and started to pedal. I did not feel like riding. My legs were heavy and I could not get moving. The complaints start to fill my head.
What am I doing?
Why did I drive an hour to ride my bike?
Even through Lara bars are really good, especially the pecan pie, I don’t want to eat another Lara bar.
Spaghetti at 10:30 in the morning is starting to sound pretty good.
I want a puppet. Why didn’t they put another toy in the packet at pick-up?
My knee hurts.
I want my mommy.
My knee is really starting to hurt.
I’m only gonna ride 36 miles today.
Now I am going to have to drive myself back home.
Thirty-five miles later, I finished. Today was a lesson on listening to my body and slowing down. Even a bad day of riding is still a good day when I get to ride my bike.