Thick Air and a Foggy Head

Getting up this morning was hard. As those of us living on Earth's northern hemisphere get closer and closer to the Dec. 21 winter solstice, the lagging sunrise begins to take its toll. On a warm foggy morning like today, it's even worse. So with barely enough time to make the ride, I finallly rolled off down the street with all my blinky lights flashing. My muscles felt stiff and my head was foggier than the air, and I pedaled slowly for a while to get the old meat up to operating temperature. The whole time I was seriously contemplating taking a pass on today's ride and returning to bed. Up ahead on Carrollton Avenue I saw newly installed barricades blocking the whole road. I rode gingerly around them in the dark, hoping I could sneak through, but the road was already littered with nicely camouflaged rocks and I had to bail out onto a bumpy side street. Now I was really going slowly and I wondered if the barricade had been a sign that I should turn back. I didn't, though, and met the group about a minute late.

As we rode up the river the fog became thicker. I thought perhaps it was just the usual fog bank that seems to always hover around the Ochsner bend, but it wasn't. Practically the whole ride today was in the fog with water condensing and dripping off the front of my helmet and my glasses, quickly rendered opaque, in my pocket. My legs never felt very good today, but then the pace was moderate and the group fairly large, so it wasn't too hard of a workout -- just long. It felt long, anyway, as the paceline ground its way steadily through the thick muggy air. Finally, near the end of the ride, the fog lifted. A train at Oak Street persuaded me to stay on the levee all the way down to the Corps of Engineers building, which means a slow and bumpy ride all the way down Pine street. I arrived home with tired legs and a foggy head, one of which I'm still trying to shake. More coffee please...