It might be that I suffer from selective memory, but back in the days when my sprintime's were full of nothing but the U of C library basement studying for CFA exams, May long weekends seemed to be full of weather that was only a hair shy of utopian bliss.
Why is it now that when I'm ready for as much outdoor activity as I can take, it's 2.7 degrees Celsius and sleeting?
A little biking found its way into the routine, as did a little freezing wet coffee drinking in spandex in Banff in a coffee shop with the doors open with a couple biking buddies. A nice cap off to my "worst ride" of late - it's been a while since Bakke has bailed from a bike, and doing it 3 times in one ride didn't sit well with my self image of being a competent cyclist. My fork and rear shock both had no air pressure, so I was riding a mush jalopy that delayed any constructive rider input beyond the split second where it was useful. Oddly enough, I've pumped up both shocks, left the bike in the garage for two days, and done a 2 hour test ride, and the pressure seems to be holding. I'm baffled. Easy fix though if it works.
Ugg. At least I did more napping this weekend than I have in the last 2 years in total. I take that as a sign of burnout.
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