Sunday, November 4

When it rains

I had just finished disposing of a grimy load of scrap at the dump, remnants of our renovations, when one of the workers pointed out that the right front tire was low. I had borrowed a friend’s truck and convinced myself I could make it to the nearest station, I didn’t. Five minutes later, I found myself laying in a puddle of brown muddy water underneath the box while struggling with a broken security release so that I could lower the conveniently placed spare tire down… I couldn’t. Such was the beginning of my Saturday, which only proved to get worse.

Despite a weekend full of unplanned surprises, I managed to squeak in a few runs, and salvaged the better part of a troubled week. Yesterday morning saw me skirting Mount Doug, something I imagine to become routine given my new abode. And today, Hicham dragged me through Rithets Bog and out of town, looping around Elk & Beaver Lakes and home, but not before we managed to get ourselves lost in Broadmead. I didn’t deserve to feel as good as I did, but graciously took what I could. I still haven’t decided whether to race Phoenix given the extremely undesirable build and ten brief weeks remaining, but think I’ll see what I can make of the next few weeks and then make my decision.

Saturday: hilly 1h10’30”
Sunday: easy 2h00’05”
[photo: Beaver Lake]