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| Not what you want to see in the morning. |
I have few hard and fast rules about cycling. One of them is that I don't go out on training rides when the temperature is in the 40s, and it's raining, and I'm recovering from a cold, and it's dark. Well, unless it's a race, of course. My luck had already run out yesterday evening anyway. I'd been happily tapping away at a big spreadsheet at work around 4:45 when I figured I'd better check the weather radar. Yikes! The big cold front was already knocking on the door and it was raining in Kenner. I jumped up, grabbed my new highly waterproof Timbuktu messenger bag, and ran for the elevator. "I think I can make it. I think I can. I think I can." As I jumped on the bike and headed down appropriately named "Perdido Street" I could already feel a light mist falling. The sky to the west - the direction I was heading - was black. "I think I can. I think I can." I got across S. Claiborne, rounded the LSUHMC Medical Education Building, and the raindrops became dramatically larger. I thought, "I think I can't make it home without getting very wet." I ducked underneath the overhead walkway and pulled out my rain jacket, wishing I'd brought my waterproof cap instead of the old cotton flat cap I was wearing. By the time I had the jacket on and was back on the road it was pouring rain and the gutters were already filling with standing water. I thought, "If I'd left just fifteen minutes earlier I'd have gotten home dry."
As it was, I got home soaking wet except for my torso that was nicely protected by my rain jacket. At least the temperature hadn't dropped yet. As I write, it's 7 am, raining, and the temperature is a couple of degrees colder than it was when I awoke. My shoes are still soaking wet from yesterday's ride home.
Guess there won't be any riding for me today. Again.
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