It Was Time

It's been two weeks.  Two weeks of sitting around, eating, sitting around some more, eating some more, and not sleeping very well.  Although the collarbone is obviously not healed yet, it seemed good enough to take a shot at a ride on the trainer. Like it or not, it was time.

As frustrating as it's been to be off the bike all this time, I can't say I was particularly anxious to get on the trainer.  Frankly, I'd rather be under-dressed and riding up the Gavia in snowstorm than ride the trainer inside. But it is what it is, and what it is is time to get back on the bike.  So I set the trainer up in the office, flipped on the old Hunter tabletop fan, and climbed up on the bike ever so carefully.  Reaching out to the handlebar was a bit uncomfortable, and for some reason lifting my right hand off of the handlebar was downright painful, but once in position it wasn't bad at all.  I managed about fifty minutes, which was about all I could take without lapsing into some mild form of insanity, which I figured was sufficient for the first day back.

Meanwhile, Jorge Cardona, who used to race here in New Orleans, was down in Tampa visiting his father and posted an old photo of a criterium we had on Canal Street in New Orleans back around 1991 or so.  A little later, when his flight back stopped in New Orleans, they got stuck here for a couple of hours because someone from Miami might have had Typhoid Fever.  Anyway, the riders I can identify in the photo include myself, Jorge, and Rob Konrad. I think the race was tied in with some sort of Latin America festival.  I can't imagine getting part of Canal Street shut down for a bike race nowadays.  For some reason I don't remember much about that particular race.  I have the feeling that I was somehow rushed and couldn't stick around very long.