January is almost over and I can count the aerobic activities I've done for 2015 on two hands, one if you count mountain bike rides. I've done a few commutes and a few runs. Why? Because cold, because Winter, because I know how hard 2015 might be if I actually do all of the races I'm planning on. Oh, and there was a mountain bike ride in the south foothills back before Thanksgiving that gave my thumb an owie. I was headed up a steep climb, stalled out, didn't unclip in time, and fell downhill off the side of the trail. I imagine that if I could have watched a replay in slow motion I would have seen my thumb bend backwards like it was a miniature gumby figurine. I said meh, finished my ride on it, and kept chugging away with riding, work, and opening those giant pickle jars these past two months. My stubbornness hasn't made it better. I'm afraid to fall on it which doesn't make for good mountain bike ride. Without my thumb I'm just like one of our cats wishing they could open the food jar.
Today I got out to Placitas for 17 miles of mountain bike action (much better than reading
Mountain Bike Action):
New Mexico mud is a PITA. What can look like dry ground is more like a powdery brownie mix sprinkled on top of a layer of sticky egg yolks. This was from two steps in a soft spot:
Spin those cranks!
