Getting Back to My Roots

As I've mentioned about a bazillion times this summer, my riding hours suck, big time, and one of those reasons is that I've gone away from one of my tried and true methods of creating time.  Getting up BEFORE the buttcrack of dawn.  Well, this morning I did just that.  The prospects of a ride after work were nil with Marcy's cousin coming to town so I sucked it up, set the alarm for 4:30 and hit me some single track in the Schmid Preserve.  I wouldn't say that the ride set the world on fire, it was more like trying to burn wet rags, but a ride is a ride and it loosened my legs up so that they won't be tree stumps for the race this weekend (hopefully at least).

I can't remember if I've mentioned this before, but we've gone all Green Acres and gotten us some chickens.  They're surprisingly cool to have actually, but they are a total pain in the ass when you have a nice entry porch that wasn't really designed for chicken shit.  Or the chickens eating all of Marcy's fabulously designed english garden plants.  Those little bastards get up on the deck every morning with a newspaper and cut some weight.  If they weren't so cute and friendly I'd be temped to do a little kick the baby with them.

Ok, nuff nonsense. I've actually got a race this weekend so I'll have something real to blog about come Monday. Yay me!