Somebody said it's Tuesday. I sure wish it were, but I just don't see how it could be; it feels too much like Monday. There is a weekly meeting this morning. Those are always on Mondays. I feel like I've been run over by a truck (but not for the reasons Bill Cosby explains in Himself), and I rode a leaking front tube all the way to work this morning.
I was less than a mile from the building when I realized the bike was handling funny. I stopped to pump in a bit of air. There were less than 30 PSI when I stopped. I couldn't find a goathead. Not sure what caused it. So at some point today I will be changing a tube in my cube. Joy.
I'm sick of being sick. And the lights seem too bright in my cube-shaped world this morning. But I rode. I rode my bike. I did not give in to the temptation to carpool. I committed to the ride...committed to the return ride. Motivation was not a factor. Lack of energy was not a factor. I just did it.
Leadville creeps closer and I am still on my hands and knees crawling toward the fitness level I need to pull of sub-nine. My commute this morning was painfully slow. Something has got to give!