I love me some Mr. T - I pity the fool. Who remembers the A-Team? One of my favorite shows when I was a kid. Anyway, I felt like the Naylor of old. If even only for a couple minutes. Naylor of old ignored pain and laughed at contusions, fractures, and it wasn't a ride unless someone was bleeding. The suffering of a race used to piss me off and make me so mad I'd feed off of it and go faster. Hell, I've raced with the flu. Naylor of old was full of piss and vinegar. Of course that was then and this is now. Almost middle aged and with a kid. Somewhere I forgot how to grit my teeth, get stubborn, and tough it out. Now if I get the sniffles, I take a week off. So today, it was time to start getting back to Naylor of old a little. I still have all that piss and vinegar in me, I just suppressed it some. Some of you are saying, oh lord don't make it worse. Not to worry, I went to see the doc yesterday (who is a cyclist by the way) and he gave me the nod to do what my body lets me. The break is not terribly bad - it's still a broken bone, but it's a hairline fracture that doesn't go all the way through the rib. I'll take it slow and carefully, but I'm pressing on. Will the rib give me grief tonight? Probably, but who gives a shit. Piss and vinegar, piss and vinegar. After all, like one of my friend's said on facebook yesterday.
That'll be me, sliding it in sideways all crazy and outta control. Just got to hold myself together until then.
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