Eating Sardines in the Rain

Usually I enjoy my training rides, even the tougher ones.  Today, not so much.  It was really a combination of factors.

I went into my ride with a less-than-optimal attitude because I had several things on my mind.  Often I can ride through such mental fuzziness and feel better, but today I wasn't having much success.  Maybe that's because it was raining, too.  A lot.  It's always hard to start in the rain.  Once you get out there, it's not so big a deal, but you have to get over that initial hurdle.

Then, about 45 miles into my ride, I had a stupid crash.  I wasn't even going very fast, but as I rounded a corner, I went over on my side.  Fortunately, neither my bike nor I were hurt very seriously, but I did bang up my hip and elbow.  Ow.  I do have one thing to be grateful for, though.  A very kind woman who was driving by and saw me fall turned around and came back to  make sure I was OK.  That really meant a lot to me.

The rain continued to drizzle.  I stopped to eat my sardines.  I needed the protein boost.  It occurred to me: what kind of crazy person sits out on a country road eating sardines in the rain?  Maybe I should have just ridden over to Milledgeville from there.  (If you're a native Georgian, you'll know exactly what I mean.)  At least my crash injuries weren't too severe.  I checked myself and my bike more thoroughly at my sardine stop.

The rain intensified as I continued my ride.  I modified my original 100-mile route, going only 80 miles.  Maybe the fact that my modified route included a dirt section will make me seem like less of a slacker.

Robert came out in his car to check on me, offering me a ride about 15 miles from home.  I thanked him but said no, I was going to finish it.  It was one of those days when I simply had to get through it.

The best part of my ride was that I had my favorite flavor of sardines, the ones in Louisiana hot sauce.