Unwilling Participant

I had started the week with the best of intentions. After my usual Monday ride on the river levee, I went out Tuesday morning to meet the group wearing almost summer clothes. The temperature was in the low 60s, and as often happens on a warm day in January, the ride along the lakefront was quite fast from start to end.  Out along the lake it remained pretty brisk with a light cross/tailwind that kept the speed in the 25 mph range. Like most, I was feeling pretty good and was even a little disappointed that the return trip from Kenner was relatively conversational.

That evening a front came through and it started raining heavily before I left work. I eventually left the bike there and got a ride home, only to find that the roof over the back room was leaking. We put a couple of ice chests under the leak since there was really nothing else to do. It's a section of flat roof that was once part of a back porch, with that old hot asphalt and gravel roofing.  I guess it's been there at least forty years through numerous hurricanes, and is the only part of the roof that wasn't replaced after Hurricane Katrina ten years ago. So although it had certainly stood the test of time, the timing was really bad. Property taxes are due and funds are depleted from the DisneyWorld trip. It always seems to work that way, though. Spend a bunch of money on one thing and it's almost a guarantee that some unexpected expense will pop up to make you regret it. We climbed up there yesterday evening to have a quick look to see if it was anything obvious, which of course it wasn't, so I'll have to track down a roofer today. At least there's no serious rain expected for a few days. That roof is so old and crudely put together, since it was just a porch roof, there's no telling what other problems will be uncovered.

So anyway, the forecast for Wednesday morning had been very bleak when I went to sleep the night before.  Like 90% chance of rain in the morning bleak. At some point in the early morning hours I woke up enough to realize that I didn't hear any rain.  Then, when the alarm went off I looked out the window to find the streets only a little bit wet, as if it  had stopped raining hours earlier.  The radar looked fine. The rain had moved through and was mostly south and southeast of the city, so I headed out to meet the WeMoRi. Of course it was colder - somewhere in the mid-40s - but that wasn't the real problem.  The real problem was the north wind.  I went out anyway, spinning a lower gear and riding more slowly than usual and figuring to meet the WeMoRi around Marconi and R.E. Lee rather than on Lakeshore Drive.  As I rode past Harrison on Marconi I saw two riders about to make the turn and realized they were riders who should have been in the WeMoRi group.  At first I thought maybe they had decided to avoid Lakeshore Drive because of the wind, but when they caught up to me I learned that they'd been the only ones who had shown up at all and had decided to just do a couple of laps around City Park. So, no WeMoRi but nice conversation to keep my mind off of the weather.  I ended up with 21 fairly easy miles, so really no "training." There would always be Thursday, though.

Well, I woke up Thursday morning, looked at the temperature still in the mid-40s, and felt a really strong urge to skip riding altogether. That happens every now and then in the winter.  It's like the cumulative effect of numerous cold and windy rides eventually tips the scales and my willingness to get out there dissipates. I got dressed anyway. When I stepped out the door and felt the wind I knew immediately I should have put something warmer than the single long-sleeve jersey over my arms. I briefly considered if that was an acceptable excuse to go back in side and get back in bed, but time was short and I went ahead and rode out to meet the group. From the start I was chilled and uncomfortable and just generally an unwilling participant in the morning ride.  Out on the lakefront the usual group came together and the pace ramped up to a reasonable level, but the crosswind was playing havoc on the paceline. As we came around the loop at the Armory I heard Daniel say, "OK now, everyone stay left so there won't be any draft."  The wind was coming off the lake from the right, and it would have been typical for the front of the group to not move all the way to the right to accommodate what was going to have to be a 15-rider eschelon. So a number of riders were in the left lane, off and on, scrapping for a little shelter as we headed back to the west. I was feeling particularly lousy and uncomfortable and was already considering cutting my ride short. Somewhere around Franklin Avenue a car when screaming past us way over in the oncoming traffic lane, hitting the gas to speed up when he saw an car coming at him from around the curve.  A moment later a pickup truck passed the group without leaving the left lane, basically trying to see how close he could come to us.  You know, that "I'm going to teach those guys a lesson with my big ol' manly pickup truck" thing.  Well, that pissed a lot of people off, and when they spotted the truck pulling in to park at one of the construction areas a bunch of guys decided to confront him.  I have a general rule of not getting confrontational with anyone bigger than myself while riding my bike, which basically includes almost everyone, so I rode on with a few others to avoid what I knew would be about a pointless an exercise as trying to talk reason to a sack of rocks. Even with the slower pace I was still feeling lousy, so at the end of Lakeshore Drive I decided to call it a day and rode back home with Scott and David.

Sixty Long Ones

Saturday's Giro turnout was pretty thin.

Saturday morning was, I guess, the coldest we'd had this winter. It was around 38F when I headed out -- not exactly arctic conditions temperature-wise.  The kicker, though, was the wind, which was still blowing in the 20-25 mph range from the north-northwest.  I figured the combination of cold and wind would keep a lot of the usual Giro riders in bed, at least until later in the day.  I was right.  I got to Starbucks around 6:30 as usual. There were no other bikes around. I got my coffee and sad down inside.  Fifteen minutes later I was still the only rider in sight and I started wondering if I would actually be the only rider to show up. Eventually, though, a few others arrived. Very few.  We headed out with seven riders, and it was still up in the air as to whether we'd be doing the full Giro route. After turning off of Hayne Blvd. Matt and the two Brians turned off to head back, leaving Taco, Adrian, Stephanie and me.  Taco went to the front, set his cruise control to something like 22.5 mph and stayed there.  Somewhere along Chef Highway I was sitting behind Adrian, who was on Taco's wheel. There was a patch of gravel and dirt in the right lane, so Taco eased over to the left. I was escheloned against the crosswind to Adrian's right and was surprised that he didn't follow Taco, but instead rode straight through the messy patch, slowing down as he did.  Stephanie went left and rode up to Taco's wheel. I was surprised when Adrian didn't speed up to get back up to Taco.  Then he suddenly stopped pedaling and swung right across the rumble strip and stopped, leaving me out in the wind and by then hopelessly far from Taco and Stephanie.  Apparently he was having some kind of wardrobe malfunction.  Anyway, I ended up riding solo the rest of the way out to the turnaround.  The ride back was, essentially, non-stop motorpacing behind Taco. He wasn't really killing it or anything, but for some reason I'd been feeling lousy since the start, so it was a very long ride for me. I guess maybe I was a little bonky by the time I got home, so I probably should have had something to eat. Anyway, despite sucking wheels for most of the 60 mile ride, I was pretty trashed.

So Saturday night was going to be even colder than Friday's had been. I was determined to do another Giro Ride anyway, even if I had to do it alone. Some time well after dinner I got a message from Woody suggesting a late 9 am start for the Giro.  I jumped on that immediately and sent messages about it out to both the NOBC email list and the NOBC Facebook group. It has always been a mystery to me why the Giro continues to start at 7 am all winter rather than pushing it back an hour like most places do.  Anyway, we had a pretty good group out there for the 9 am start. It was still a bit under 40 degrees, but the wind had died way down and the sun was out, so it was looking a lot better than Saturday.  There was just a handful of riders wanting to go hard today, and they pretty much rode off the front on Hayne Blvd. Behind, the group never really got a full paceline going.  There were maybe four or five willing to pull, but everyone else seemed content to sit in.  After the turnaround Taco and I rolled down the road a bit while the rest of the group stopped at the little tree to do whatever they do there. After a mile or two we looked back and could see a few people riding across to us from the pack, so when they caught we latched on. It was a nice smooth, fast group of five or six.  I took a few brief pulls when the speed wasn't too high, but wasn't bashful about sitting at the back when it got faster. As a result I had a really nice ride.  That morning I'd checked my tires and found that I'd ridden Saturday's ride with something like 50 psi. Maybe that had something to do with how lousy I'd felt. Anyway, in contrast to the day before, I felt great today. Go figure.

Wet Mornings

The weather around here has been all over the place lately. It rained much of Tuesday night, but when I got up Wednesday morning and saw the temperature in the upper 50s I got dressed, grabbed the bike, and stepped out the door, only to find that there was still a fine misty rain falling.  The streets were soaked, which was bad enough, but the combination of the cool temperature and wet streets was going to make the WeMoRi ride miserable, assuming anyone showed up at all. I stared out into the dark for a while watching the rain fall through the beam of my headlight and turned around. Before leaving for work I threw some riding clothes into my bag just in case I got desperate enough to ride the WattBike. After work I walked over to the Tulane cycling center, which is literally about 25 steps away from my office.  I'd seen Quentin there earlier. He's the rider who crashed last weekend when his pedal came out of the crankarm.  His face was looking a lot better and he was busy busting out a training session on the WattBike. After work there were a few people already there when I arrived. I put a pair of Keo pedals onto one of the bikes that didn't have pedals on it (these things move around from bike to bike constantly since we've got riders using everything from mountain bike cleats to Speedplay Zeros). I aimed a fan at my face and suffered through an hour or so. I have never gotten used to working out indoors. Even at my relatively easy effort level, I was dripping sweat within fifteen minutes, the saddle position didn't feel quite right, the pedals are too far apart, and the handlebar is too far out. The best I could do was a few minutes over an hour, and by then I was more than happy to head home since all I'd had at lunchtime were a couple of plain bagels.

This morning I got all excited when I saw the temperature in the low 60s.  I mean, it's December, right?  Then I walked past a window and saw the fog.  Although it hadn't rained for hours, the street was wet and the fog was thick. I put on arm and knee warmers along with an extra jersey as baselayer, since I knew I'd end up good and wet. I rode over to Nashville, but none of the usual group showed up, so I just continued on out to the lakefront. I had to wipe the fog from my glasses every few minutes, finally taking them off and stashing them in my pocket before I even made it to the lakefront.

Out on Lakeshore Drive there were a few people riding around looking for the group that didn't exist. Eventually everyone realized it and six or seven riders came together.  We did a good lap of Lakeshore Drive, but at the end a few, including myself, decided that the bike path along the lake would probably be soaking wet with runoff from the levee, so we did a short lap around City Park and called it a day. By then I was pretty wet just from the fog, and my feet were starting to get cold, so I'm glad I didn't venture out to the bike path where I probably would have had wheel spray in my face most of the time.

So I got a call yesterday morning from Frank Moak telling me that they were not going to be able to put on the Mississippi Grand Prix stage race this year. That puts a pretty big hole in the calendar for us. One of the other races has already moved to that weekend, since it was a prime date in April (that unfortunately conflicts with a collegiate race in Texas). The MSGP has been going on for 13 years and was basically a continuation of the Natchez Classic stage race that had been going on in nearby Natchez for many years before that.

Tonight we're expecting a tornado watch and heavy thunderstorms starting around 7 or 8 pm as a cold front comes through.  No telling yet if it will be as bad as they think - these things often swing just north of us. The rain should be over by 2 am, so it's likely the streets will dry out by morning, especially since the wind at 7 am is predicted to be blowing at 24 mph from the WNW and the temperature will be back down in to the mid-40s.  Should be interesting.

The 411 on the 911s

Despite the cold temperatures this weekend, there were a lot of people out on their bikes. I went out to the Saturday Giro Ride knowing I wouldn't be able to do the whole thing. We were having our annual LAMBRA business meeting immediately afterward, and I needed to get there a little early, pick up some refreshments, and run off some copies.

The Giro headed out into a mostly east wind, which kept the speed down a bit. I was feeling pretty good - even better after I turned around and had a nice little tailwind riding solo back home. When I got home I found that the wife had taken the car to the grocery store, which kind of threw a monkey wrench into my plans. I ended up taking Danielle's scooter to the meeting and having her drive over a bit later with some drinks and the LCCS team trophy.  The meeting went pretty well.  We decided to keep the organizational and voting structure the same for now, so no changes to the bylaws. We'll be doing some kind of grant program for event promoters in 2016, for which I need to write up some criteria and figure out how much we can afford. We'll also be buying some serious radios.  I need to go back and find the information on those. We had investigated that early last year but never acted on it.

TU Cycling team members and med students
checking out Quentin's x-ray

So anyway, since I turned around early on the Giro Ride, I missed the crash.  Apparently Quentin's pedal came out of the crankarm in the middle of the Venetian Isles sprint. He landed on his head and face, breaking his nose and also a finger, and probably suffering a mild concussion.  I guess the pedal had been working its way out for a while and when he stood up to sprint it ripped through the last few threads. Quentin's on the Tulane team. On the plus side, there were at least two Tulane medical students also on the ride who got a little extra trauma experience.

Sunday there was an NOBC group ride on the northshore. I opted to do that one instead of the Tulane ride up in Independence.  It was damned cold when we started at 8 am, and the hour and a half into the north wind didn't help, either. I was quite surprised to count nearly 30 riders as we started out. When I dropped back after taking a brief pull I thought to myself, "This mix of riders in a headwind could get a little sketchy."  Well, shortly after turning off of Tung Road onto Lee Road there was a surge at the front and some gaps started to open.  I was sitting on Mike Lew's wheel as he started closing the gap.  Just as we got really close, toward the bottom of a little downhill, we suddenly saw riders going down up at the front. I guess some wheels got overlapped as they bunched up on the downhill.

Heading north toward Enon at the top of the Firetower hill

Anyway, two guys went down pretty hard, one of them especially so. He had what looked like a pretty deep gash on his forehead and someone immediately called 911.  We were pretty much out in the middle of nowhere.  A few of us rode back to the top of the hill to alert any cars, since everyone was still in the middle of the road.  Within a few minutes a fire truck arrived, followed immediately by three Sheriff's cars, and then the ambulance.  So that was the second 911 call of the weekend. A few people headed back to get a car to come back and pick up the bike while a couple others stayed on the site until they arrived.  That brought the group down to about 15 riders. In general the pace was controlled, although someone attacked one of those longish climbs on the backside of the course which split the group for a little while.  I saw them go and thought to myself, "It's way too early for me to be doing that kind of stuff." Anyway with the long delay because of the crash, a couple of nature stops and a few regrouping stops, the 65 mile ride took an exceptionally long time. After the ride a bunch of us went to Chimes for lunch, but it was so crowed that we would have had to wait half an hour or so (and we were hungry) so we went to that Greek place instead. It was probably after 3 pm before I got home.

I've still got some lung congestion, and Sunday's long ride in the cold doesn't seem to have helped at all.  In fact, since I got back from that ride I've felt more lung congestion than I had earlier, so I'm hoping I didn't do any real damage.  We're doing a hopefully easy Tulane ride today at 10 am since it's MLK day and the university is closed. The sun is out, but it's still in the 40s.  Looks like it might get up to 52 by noon, so I guess that's not too bad, although wardrobe selection under these conditions is going to be a little tricky.

The Morning Flat

I pulled the bike down from its hook and it landed on the basement floor with a sound I know all too well.  The rear tire was flat as a pancake. I hate when that happens in the morning.  With no time to change tubes I swapped it out for a race wheel and Danielle and I headed out on the wet streets to meet the Tulane group for an easy coffee ride. A little front had moved through overnight, and judging by all the puddles in the road, the rain must have ended only a couple of hours earlier. On the plus side, the temperature was in the mid-50s.

We were heading north on Marconi under an overcast but brightening sky when I felt my front tire go flat. It was completely flat within a minute, but I nursed it the last could hundred yards to the corner at Robert E. Lee so I could stop and change it on the sidewalk. I sent the rest of the group ahead since it would easy to meet them on their way back down Lakeshore Drive. A quick swipe of the tire with my gloved hand immediately found the offending piece of sharp glass, so a few minutes later I was back on the road.

Coming back into town from the lake on Marconi, the traffic was pretty bad. Marconi is picking up all of the commuter traffic that used to take Wisner, and the corner where it meets the Harrison Avenue traffic is now getting awful. Just as we were approaching it and contemplating whether to try for the difficult left turn or stay in the right lane amidst the impatient rush hour drivers, Katie flatted. Nothing like freshly wet streets to guarantee a couple of flats!

We ended waiting out two light cycles to make the left onto Harrison and then cut through the park to Esplanade and, finally, Fair Grinds and a cup of coffee.

This afternoon the sun is out and I guess the temperature is near 70, but it's supposed to be back down to 50 by tomorrow morning, and then in the 40s for the weekend mornings. There's an NOBC northshore ride on Sunday that I'll probably do, although the Tulane crew is doing a ride that day up around Independence. Things are finally moving on the Tulane Cycling Classic race preparations, so that's good.  On Saturday I have the annual LAMBRA meeting. I hope people show up for it. Things have kind of been on autopilot for the last year or so and it's time for maybe some new enthusiastic officers.  We have to decide whether to make some changes in the bylaws to have an elected Board or stick with the status quo where the Board is composed of one representative from each member club.  It's not really a problem as it is, but I can see some possible issues down the road.

Easing Back In

Off the back, riding easy

It was around 40F Tuesday morning as I stepped out the door into the darkness. Thankfully, the wind was calm. Unfortunately my tail light wouldn't come on, but I was already running late so I took off to meet a few others at the end of Nashville for the ride out to the lakefront. I was wearing everything from shoe-covers to winter jacket, since I fully expected to be spending some time alone. I'm trying to ease back into training, and the cold weather and this lingering cough are definitely slowing the process.

Out at the lakefront I turned around a little early at West End, and was able to spin easily most of the way to Bayou St. John until the rest of the group caught up to me. There, we picked up some more riders and the pace started to rise, but it was clear that most of the group wasn't interested in going too hard that day.  Later, about halfway out along the bike path to the Kenner casino boat, I dropped off the back to give myself a few extra easy miles, turning around early, and then picking up the group again on the way back. I got back home a little cold but none the worse for wear, so - mission accomplished.

After breakfast and a shower I headed over to the local Volvo dealer to see about getting a replacement key for the car. They need you to show up in person with ID and registration in order to get a new key. Since it was going to take an hour and a half to get the car in there to program the new key, I walked down to The Bicycle Connection and hung out with Donald and VJ for a while. When I got back the told me that there was some kind of problem with the car and they couldn't get it to go into program mode, so they gave me a loaner and I went off to work.  Later that day they had it fixed.  The problem had been with their computer, not with the car.  The cost for a new key?  $360 without the metal "valet" key.  That hurt.

This morning I went out to meet the WeMoRi. The new route, necessitated by the closure of the Wisner Overpass, starts out with the same lap on Lakeshore Drive and continues to Robt. E. Lee and Wisner as before, but turns at Harrison to cut through the park to Marconi.  Then it's back to Lakeshore Drive for another full lap with a sprint at the end near Brisbi's.  The pace wasn't too fast, so I was pretty comfortable sitting near the back of the group, coughing occasionally and wiping my nose constantly, but otherwise OK.  It was just as cold as Tuesday had been, and I'd gone out without shoe covers, so my toes were pretty frosty by the time I got home, but not too bad. I guess a few more days to ease back into things and perhaps I'll be back to normal by the weekend.

Back in the Pack

Still not feeling quite back to normal, it was nonetheless time to get back on the bike. There's something to be said for taking some time off when you're obviously sick, but after nearly two weeks of mostly sitting on my ass I was feeling fat and soft and generally anxious, and I'd at least improved enough that it seemed a few miles on the bike probably wouldn't make things worse. After a cold front started coming through Saturday morning, along with a few hours of rain, the sky started to clear and by afternoon it was looking pretty nice.  The temperature hadn't started dropping yet, so around 3 pm I went out for an easy spin on the levee. The wind was already picking up, but it was still warm enough for the summer kit.  The river is pretty high, just about up to the base of the levee on the river side and well above the base on the other side. I rode out to the barricade near Moss Lane, and shortly after starting back ran into Kenny, so I turned around and rode with him for a little while.  He was kind of scouting out the route to the Spillway for a ride he'd organized on Sunday to watch them open the Spillway up. I was tentatively planning on doing a northshore ride with some Tulane and LSU riders to check out a possible course for the upcoming Tulane collegiate race.  This was good since watching them open the spillway was going to be like watching the grass grow in the dead of winter.  The spillway is pretty impressive once it's mostly open and the river water is rushing through on its way to the lake, but the actual process of opening it involves pulling up one huge wooden pin at a time. Anyway, Saturday's ride went well, although I was careful to take it easy since I'm still worried about hindering this excruciatingly slow recovery for the worst cold I've had in a long time.

Sunday's ride wasn't starting until the civilized hour of 10 am, which was good because even by then the temperature on the northshore was barely 45 degrees with a stiff northwest wind making it feel considerably colder. I intentionally overdressed, for what should by now be obvious reasons, as eight of us headed straight into the wind for the next hour and a half. For the first seven or eight miles it was just a single paceline with Dustin sitting on the front at something like 17 mph and complete silence behind while everyone came to terms with the cold. Fortunately for me the ride pace was generally easy, so I don't think I did too much lung damage. We found two or three possible locations for parking for the race, although actually tracking down the property owners may be a bit of a challenge considering how little time we have.

We ended up with 66 miles at 17.4 mph, so kind of classic zone 2, LSD, base training, or whatever you want to call it. I was happy enough that I didn't have to sprint up any hills and that I didn't get dropped. So after the ride I had my car key in my hand and went to start putting bike on the roof, so I put the key on the roof, where I promptly forgot about it.  The problem is that the Volvo was still detecting the key up there and, thinking I had the key in my pocket as usual, I started the car and we headed back home.  A minute later we heard an odd noise and I said, "What was that?" thinking at first that wheels or something in the back of the station wagon had shifted. Almost immediately, though, I remembered the key.  Shit.  I pulled over at the first place I could and four of us scoured the narrow road shoulder and ditch, walking up and down both sides, sadly without any luck. At least the car was still running despite a warning on the console about the missing key.  I guess it's going to cost me a few hundred dollars to replace that key, which sucks.

This morning the temperature was in the mid-30s and when I woke up with a headache I decided maybe it would be a good day to skip. I think tomorrow I'll finally be back to my normal routine, although it'll clearly be nearly as cold as this morning.

Eggshells

It's been nearly two weeks since I came down with this cold and it wasn't until yesterday that I started to feel almost normal. I ventured out, intentionally overdressed, to meet Andrew for an easy ride on the levee. The temperature was in the mid-50s, the streets were dry, the wind was low, and it was nice and humid. It think it was a good decision and I felt fine, although it was amazing how strange it felt when I first got on the bike. Clearly, though, it will be some time yet before things are back to normal. There's still some lung and head congestion, and then of course there's the fact that I haven't really been on the bike consistently for almost three weeks now. I think the last time I was off the bike this long was when I broke a collarbone. Come to think of it, I'd rather be recovering from than than from this cold.

This morning it was raining.  I probably would have ridden out to the Giro and done just part of it if the weather had cooperated, but riding in the rain right now would be a big mistake. I'll essentially be walking on eggshells, or maybe riding on them, for the next week or so.  I'm afraid to do anything hard because I don't want to risk pneumonia with my airways still compromised.  It's a balancing act.

By tomorrow morning this cold front will have pushed through and the temperatures will be in the 40s.  I'll probably go across the lake with a few of the Tulane guys to check out a possible new course for the race. It's scheduled for the last weekend in February and essentially nothing has been done yet, so it's going to be a big push. There's a nice 17 mile loop up north of Enon that seems perfect. There would be only 5 turns, and of those only two of those would have the riders going through stop signs. The looming problem, however, is where we can park all the cars, and therefore where the start/finish will be. Then of course there's the matter of tracking down land owners and getting permission. Anyway, I'm a little worried about jumping on the bike for a 65 mile ride in cold air and headwinds at this point, so I'll be trying to keep my efforts as much under control as I can.

Mile One

It's the third of January and, yeah, I'm still sick. The weather hasn't been very nice over the past week. I don't think I've seen the sun since last weekend. It seems like it's just been nothing but cold, damp and dreary - at least that's what it's looked like through the window.  I haven't been doing much of anything except sitting around watching television and taking cold medicines that don't seem to help very much.

So anyway, I decided to ride out to the Giro Ride this morning. I had absolutely no plan to ride it, of course, but I thought it might do me good to at least get on the bike for an hour or so.  It night not have been the wisest decision, considering the cold air and all, but I went anyway, wrapped up in my winter jacket and shoe-covers. The only question after that was whether I'd ride with the group down to the end of Lakeshore Drive, or just go straight back home from Starbucks. I went with the latter.

Even at the conversational pace along Lakeshore Drive I could feel the cold dry air tearing at my lungs, and by the time I got home I couldn't take a deep breath without reflexively coughing. It's a lot like what happens sometimes after a very long, hot road race when I get dehydrated. I'm hoping it will go away eventually and not progress to pneumonia or something. This morning on the way out to the lake from Starbucks we saw them setting up the start for the 109th annual Jackson Day Race at Marconi and Robert E. Lee.  I guess they had to move it from the usual location over by Wisner because of the overpass being closed.

So anyway, my first ride of 2016 was a couple of days late and a few miles short, but at least I broke the ice, so to speak. After I got home Candy and the neighbors found an obviously lost dog who is now in the neighbor's back yard. Hopefully we can find the owner.

Not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. It feels like I've missed my entire holiday vacation.