That's the song that's stuck in my head and it's oh so apropos on this particular Sunday.
Yesterday I'd planned on a nice long bike ride, probably 15 miles. But Husband wanted to go for a ride and he hasn't done much lately, so I willingly agreed to do a short easy one with him Saturday and get in my long ride Sunday.
We were almost home from the easy 5-miler when I popped a flat. No matter, I thought, I've been wanting to learn to change a flat anyway. But it was getting late and I still wanted to take the dogs for a walk around one of the local trails, so I decided I'd change it Sunday morning.
Sunday morning dawned sunny and beautiful, a perfect day for a bike ride. Except.
- I had a pounding headache
- My eyes were nearly swollen shut from high levels of tree pollen and a personal lack of diligence in my allergy shot regimen
- I had a congested chest and a hacking cough (see also tree pollen)
- After yesterday's dinky little ride and subsequent short (2 mile) mosey with my dogs, my right knee (the one NOT diagnosed with a problem) was very painful, requiring RI&E and Ibuprofen Saturday night and still feeling wonky this morning
- It was only 54 degrees and I'd forgotten to wash my cool weather tights
- Both of my potential riding dates for the day blew it off
- I still had a flat tire
I try to fight the good fight, my conscience going blow for blow with my lame excuses, and training usually wins out. But you can't win 'em all, and today was one of those days. I bagged the workout.
But at least I changed the tire.
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