As luck would have it…

I rush out to buy a bicycle because they are selling like hot cakes and I want to get one before old man winter returns in less than six months, with every intent on riding 5-7 days a week in the meantime.

Temperature drops. Okay — I can deal with that, I am a Minnesotan, after all. A little cold never hurt me. Add a few layers and avoid really windy days.

Gumption found, deep breath…

Pouring rain. Not the deluge kind, but the persistent heavy-duty soakers that go on all day and sometimes all night that are fun to look at and even dance around (naked or clothed). But not ride a bike in.

I’m not opposed to riding in the rain or cold — did it all the time when I was younger — but I’m not much into riding in soakers in 35-40°F weather. That’s a fast track to hypothermia, aside from being uncomfortable AF between the chill and the chafe. And it looks like snow might be on the horizon over the next few days… I’ve not done snow and I am not equipped to bike it it (yet). Sigh.

My master plan at getting fit and, subsequently, world domination, is running to into a brick wall. I raise dual fists to the sky, drop on my knees (in a nice soft carpet or grass because: old) and scream at the skies: “WHY? WHY GOD, WHY?”

Or maybe I just put my ambitions on hold until the weekend.

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