This weekend was really all about dirt. Last night I was—as I am so frequently—very close to comatose lying on the couch, but grinning smugly with the satisfaction that only a good weekend can bring.
Sure, I had a creeper for four or so hours on Saturday, in which I thought I could not ride any slower (Aiden assures me that it 'wasn't that bad' and that he's 'seen me ride slower"...). But anyway, eventually, after over four hours of minimal talking we got home and I tried to do some deserved couch time (those Samford pony trails are killer!).
Ended up getting dirty again, this time just hanging out with Glen and Aido at the workshop, sprucing up my 1spd while they swap cranks on Glen's race bike.
Sunday...I was a bit worried that my dead-legged fatigue of the previous day would be compounded and be experienced as pure torture.
Alas, geeing myself up on the 1spd with the Mattus the rattus and DH, it all ended up okay and didn't feel too shabby! Those guys hadn't experienced Funya, so we did the whirlwind tour followed by coffee and chamois time at Grub St, which is a really cute little cafe up the road.
Alas, though out for less than three hours and having a spiffy time on Stevie (who invented gears anyway? They suck.) I was decidedly bombed out that afternoon, spending my time on the couch, watching sad television productions such as The Biggest Loser.
Sad, I know. But a sign of a well-used weekend!