The Dirt Field

Today was a complete drag. I had no motivation to do anything beyond watching cheesy shows online, and despite having all the time in the world, I didn’t start doing any part of my workouts until after 6:30pm. After moaning and pouting through two sets of pushups/crunches/back extensions, I then spent another twenty minutes debating about whether to move my intervals workout until tomorrow. I could hear my coach telling me to suck it up and get on the damn bike, though, so I kitted up and rolled outside into what had been a sunny, humid evening.

It began to rain the moment I stepped outside. Bobby had followed me out and, upon seeing the rain, commented that the bad weather should pass very quickly because the Doppler radar showed no storm activity in our area.

[Side Note: Bobby clearly missed his calling as a weatherman, because the guy is obsessed with looking at the Doppler radar on Weather.com. He doesn’t want to read the forecast; he wants to actually see the colorful blobs moving across the map because to him, those are The Word Of God. It doesn’t matter what is happening outside – it can be bright sun and clear skies, but if Bobby sees a splotch on the Doppler image, he will insistently tell you it is raining.]

I started the workout in the lightly falling rain, heading towards the W&OD; Trail where I do all of my intervals. While cutting through the woods to the W&OD;, I paused for a moment to mess with my iPod, lost my balance, and crashed to the ground. Not only did it hurt, but I landed with my arm an inch away from a large pile of dog crap. I suppose that’s actually lucky, considering the alternative, but I’m not that much of an optimist.

As soon as I got back on the bike, the rain started pouring down in buckets. My glasses fogged and dripped, my shoes filled with water, and the trail threw handfuls of muddy water all over my legs. By the time I made it to the W&OD;, I was drenched and each droplet felt like little rocks hitting my bare skin. The rain continued heavily for another thirty minutes.

The intervals went surprisingly well, considering that each one required sprinting 1km at my absolute maximum level of effort. After the rain stopped, though, the path was spotted with frogs, toads, snakes, rabbits, and birds that were all trying very hard to get run over. I had to move the same box turtle off the trail twice, and was paranoid the whole time that I would end some tiny thing’s life with my towering wheels of death. Killing an unsuspecting little frog is an excellent way to guarantee that Mother Nature/karma gives you a flat tire or knocks you over with a falling tree on your next ride.

On the ride home, I got caught in a thunderstorm that had moved in quickly. I wasn’t worried about getting struck by lightning, however, since the Doppler radar said there weren’t any storms in the area.

The moral of this story is that if you put off your workouts all day and try to whine your way out of them, you will be caught in a driving downpour, subjected to random, painful crashes into dog shit, plagued by swarms of small, fragile animals, and zapped by lightning. Ride early, complain less.