Uncle

During my 22 mile run on Saturday I was growing continually more concerned about my 50 mile ride on Sunday (even typing this sounds absurd to me. Who the hell do I think I am?) This was partly because of the distance, but mostly because of the RIDICULOUS amount of climb in the run.

But I kept telling myself, "it is a flat ride. The ride with climb isn't until next week. I will be fine."

Here is the elevation for yesterday's ride:


Now, the women that lead the Cinderella training rides are quite possibly the nicest people on Earth, and to the best of my knowledge, none of them actually smoke crack, but WTF?! In who's world is that a flat ride?

When I got home I had to clean house, do laundry, do animal care, prepare for tomorrow at school and I could barely move I was so tired. Add to that, my gum isn't healed from my oral surgery and it makes eating (one of my primary hobbies) not fun.


I cracked.





I called in sick to work and I am not working out today.




Upside: I have clean underwear and my house probably won't get condemned.