Vive le Tour
I am worried about the Tour de Fromage. Between watching the Tour de France every day and finding time to get to the studio (with the Andes show looming less than a month over the horizon), I worry that my plans have been too ambitious. Even after today's ride I owe the bank some miles.
There are only so many things a man can do. The Mets going into extra innings doesn't help either.
It was, I should say in my defense, blazing hot today. Usually biking is one of those types of exercise you can do on hot days because you are generating a 10-20 mph breeze. Today, it was just baking. So I lay down an 8.1 mile ride @ 13.5 mph. Which, if I'm not mistaken, puts me 7.27 miles in the hole (given today's 1.8 mile time trial distance added to the 12.2 I missed yesterday and the 1.37 I was already in debt). I still hold onto the idea of riding into Manhattan and back sometime in the next couple of days, but my energy level seems alarmingly low.
Could be carry-over from the July 4th festivities, but you'd think I'd have snapped out of it by now.
Perhaps I should just feign illness and drop out of the Tour. Let the others go on ahead of me. Refer to a vague gastrointestinal malaise that keeps me, by necessity, near the homefront. Buy some chips and dip.
Still, in the back of my head there's a voice crying in the wilderness. Crying: "Vive le Tour. Vive le Tour."
There are only so many things a man can do. The Mets going into extra innings doesn't help either.
It was, I should say in my defense, blazing hot today. Usually biking is one of those types of exercise you can do on hot days because you are generating a 10-20 mph breeze. Today, it was just baking. So I lay down an 8.1 mile ride @ 13.5 mph. Which, if I'm not mistaken, puts me 7.27 miles in the hole (given today's 1.8 mile time trial distance added to the 12.2 I missed yesterday and the 1.37 I was already in debt). I still hold onto the idea of riding into Manhattan and back sometime in the next couple of days, but my energy level seems alarmingly low.
Could be carry-over from the July 4th festivities, but you'd think I'd have snapped out of it by now.
Perhaps I should just feign illness and drop out of the Tour. Let the others go on ahead of me. Refer to a vague gastrointestinal malaise that keeps me, by necessity, near the homefront. Buy some chips and dip.
Still, in the back of my head there's a voice crying in the wilderness. Crying: "Vive le Tour. Vive le Tour."
posted by Geoffrey at 12:42 PM
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