Funny how one day is totally different than the next. Like the title states, Superman and Clark Kent are often separated by a scant few hours.
I went out last night, felt like GD Superman. Good lungs, good legs, focus and concentration on point. Felt really good for the 95 minutes of fun last night.
Seeing as I'm making an effort to shed some lbs. from my big self, I came home, had a bowl of cereal and lazed about. Looking back, that was the problem.
I woke up this morning, feeling like I'd just ridden four hard hours. Dehydrated, sore back, legs and joints, as well as a general feeling of malaise. What did my relatively high IQ tell me to do? Stay home and re-fuel? Nope! As usual, my dumb took over and told me to get on the bike.
So I listened...
I'd planned on just doing an easy spin, which was good, as easy was all I had this morning! Of course, all things conspired against me. It was cold, I went out with the tailwind, my chosen route had been summarily destroyed by the floods, and I was forced to scale a 8 foot fence that was topped by barbed wire to avoid having to backtrack for 15 minutes.
To add insult to my already injured soul, when I got back to West Columbia, there was a train stopped on the tracks, forcing me to backtrack anyway.
At this point, I gave up and just rolled home slowly. I feel like crap, I've slammed down more water than a camel at an oasis, and my head is splitting as if it's being mined for dumb!
I should have just stayed home...
Evidently, there is snow on the way, so I'm fueling up in anticipation of a snow ride in the morning. I'm going to ride either way, but the snow would definitely add some fun to the equation. Not holding my breath though...