I've had this running joke that isn't funny or anything. It's a joke though. A real joke. As in "What a joke."
I won't go through the whole boring history, but I will summarize.
The joke is the headline of a blog post that reads "I'm back." Then the first line of the body usually says something like "But this time ... It's personal hygiene."
In the eighties, there was an awful Tom Cruise movie.
I should be more specific. In 1986, there was an awful Tom Cruise movie.
Damn. Still ambiguous. In 1986, there was an awful Tom Cruise movie about a young hothead pool hustler getting tutored by a character from a great Paul Newman movie from the 1960's.
The other 1986 Tom Cruise movie was called "Hot Shots!" or something.
But that's not important right now. What is important is that Paul Newman's character has been in forced retirement since the 1960's, but decides to train this incredibly talented young man.
Yeah - the same general plot can be seen in "Happy Gilmore" which is an infinitely superior film. So the main takeaway is this: Don't see "The Color of Money." See "Happy Gilmore."
Where was I? Oh yeah, I remember. At or near the end of the movie, Paul Newman kind of chalks his cue, smirky smiles, and says "I'm back!" as he strikes a rack of balls really really hard. I don't really know, but I wouldn't be surprised if the frame freezes just after the break begins and the credits roll. There's probably some shitty 80's sounding song from a band you've never heard of going on about "You can pick it up after you give it up," or some horrible thing like that. I can hear a tune in my head right now that is a pretty good representation of the ending song of just about every 80's movie. I can say for certain the song sucks and I'll never watch "The Color of Money" again. At least not with the sound on.
All of the times in the past when I've said "I'm back" - I was coming back from a voluntary layoff. Each time, I was sure I'd never quit again. But I have. Many times. Hence the "What a joke" joke
This time, I've been plagued with a sequence of injuries, mostly involving my back. But Paul Newman didn't say "My Back!"
So for the last several months, I've been forced to do fewer, shorter, easier rides. I've never quit altogether. I've maintained a level of fitness that - though relatively low - It's not like completely starting over.
I've got a pretty busy week these days, but have figured out a reasonable way to get the WNWs in. I went last night and it was actually surprisingly easy. Once I got dropped.
I had already told a couple of guys it was inevitable that I'd get dropped and to please, please not wait for me. I was just out for a ride.
I've probably talked about this before, so I'll try to keep it short here. It's amazing to me that when you're out of shape, you can't get as tired as you can when you're fit.
You don't have the fitness to go hard enough for long enough to get truly wiped out. I went as hard as I could for as long as I could to keep up. But when I was done, I was done. I pedalled home at a nice 20-23 (tail breeze) and enjoyed the beautiful spring evening.
I will go to WNW next week. Maybe I will hang on longer. Maybe I'll get dropped sooner. The great thing is I don't really care.
I first did Wednesday night rides um, like 15 years ago or so after a fairly successful RAGBRAI campaign. I went to either the High Gear Store in LaVista or Bike Masters in West Omaha.
Either way, I would get mercilessly dropped. Then I would get mad. Really mad. I would think things like "What a bunch of assholes. If I wanted to do this, I could just ride alone."
Then I'd be depressed for about 3 days and try to prepare for the following week. And over and over again.
I now see how ridiculous it is to get mad (at other people) about being dropped on a ride like that. But in the past, including the last couple of years, it's always bugged me at least a little bit.
Not anymore. It was a good ride. I can't wait until I'm good enough to tear myself inside out again trying to hang with those jerks (assholes).
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