Today is going to be a super busy day. I knew that my only chance to ride and get my planned efforts in was to do it before work. When the alarm went off, I didn't really want to get out of bed. It was warm, and the dogs were out cold. That said, with the weight of the knowledge that I have ridden less this February, than any February in the last 8 years... I kitted up and hit the trainer.
This is where it kinda goes sideways.
I jump on the trainer and notice I can't make the wheel turn. I play with the tension in the back, jump back on the bike. Still no deal. I follow the same routine like five times. Still no good. I figure no big, trainer is breaking, it's a few years old, surprised it's dying so soon, but what the hell. I head for the rollers, only to notice that my brake is rubbing. The trainer wheel does that if you don't open the brake.
I didn't open the brake.
Exasperated, I jump back on the bike and start warming up. I look down to see that my GPS isn't picking up my HR. I press buttons, I press the transmitter strap against my chest thinking that if I can get a little sweat on it, maybe it will start to pick up. No dice. Then I realize. It's not my GPS, it's Diane's. Shit.
Grab my GPS, and start off again. Finish up my warm up. Ipod jamming, start first effort, and just when I get to the point where my eyes roll back into my head, and I start drooling, the dogs in an avalanche of Labrador awesomeness come wrestling into the room, slamming into me and almost knock me off the bike.
It was at this point, I almost went back to bed.
But, I finish the effort, and then start one more when, for no good reason my Ipod just stops. I pull it out of my jersey pocket, and it's locked up. Shaking my head, I start to whip it across the kitchen, when Diane comes around the corner and says, "good morning, want some coffee?"
"yes, yes I do" I replied as I finished my last pedal strokes and jumped off the trainer for the last time today...
lets hope the rest of the day goes a little smoother...
thanks for reading...