Slow To The Saddle

It's been a slow start to the season for me -- the odometer reads 88 km. Pathetic. In years past I clocked that at least once a week. I'm not feeling much love for the saddle this year. I'm not sure what all contributes to this malaise, but certainly the weather has been a significant disincentive. It's been cold and rainy and not a little windy.

When I was young I loved those conditions. I jumped aboard my Fisher and rode directly into the wind. I can recall one rainy Manitoba Saturday when I pedaled from my parents' house in west Winnipeg out to Headingley. Once there I ripped up and down the Assiniboine's riverbanks. When I was sufficiently covered in mud, I rode back to Winnipeg.

I stopped at the neighborhood drug store to pick up a Mars Bar. I bumped into a seven-year-old boy with his mother, and he gawped up at me with that, "The gods walk amongst us!" look. Definitely not the sort of gaze that greets me when I ease myself off the saddle these days.

Inclement weather isn't entirely to blame, however. This morning was brilliant -- sunny, light breeze. Years ago this would have inspired me to extend the ride. Today I was happy to book a modest 19 km in 48 minutes, and call it quits. For whatever reason, I'd rather tie on my shoes and engage in an hour's worth of walking, Strident Alpinist style. That's what my aging bod seems to be calling for, I guess.