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I am about to curse the weather in Chicagoland for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Why, you ask? I will tell you why.
I am about to go home and put on my cycling clothes, then roll my bicycle out of the garage. Shortly thereafter, rain will ensue.
The last two weeks have seen my cycling cursed. Every chance I get to ride has either been preempted by rain, a family commitment that either I forgot about or that came in with the clouds, or my insane commitment to making sure the yard work gets done.
This afternoon is hot (close to 90 F) and partly sunny. It rained a little yesterday, basically right after I rolled out of my driveway at dawn for a bike ride, but not enough that the dirt trails will not be rideable later on this afternoon. My plan is to break the two week drought with a dirt trail ride for a few hours.
Why are there dark clouds gathering at my office ceiling?
Living in Oregon, I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t raining when I went to ride my bike. Or walk outside.
I feel your mildew.
I was wondering where I left my biking shorts…
You mean your CHIA biking shorts?
I thought I got the “Mr. T” but apparently it was the “Don King.”
Or the Bozo.
HaHaHaHaHa!
UH!
TY
That exchange deserves a ring of the taco bell.
Usually followed by a run to the border. Or bathroom, as the case may be.
and it raining and muggy here in michigan and happy i am nowhere in the vicinity of either of your shorts.
So you say. Or THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID.
Did you grab the right shoes at least?
Yes. BUT I FORGOT TO BRING SOCKS!!! COMMANDO!!!!
*facepalm*
Could have been worse. I could have forgotten to bring shorts.
I will never understand the dynamics of how you guys ride on those little seats comfortably. All I can think is that when you get grazed or kicked in the balls you are exaggerating because you can ride a bicycle without issue.
My bicycle seat has a gap in the middle to protect the boys. I prefer the little seat over the big honking padded ones.
Believe me, riding a bicycle is nothing like getting kicked in the balls.
Even Ned dropped the ball (cough) on this one. Steve can ride on those little seats comfortably because he’s got no balls. (At least, not since the last time I checked his wife’s purse.)
And BOOM — a nice dose of Sandy. You were overdue.