Fail. Looked nice enough this morning when I got up. Sprinkles started but I figured it wasn't that bad and it always rains near my house. I wanted at least 50 miles today. Got down to the main road and got a good look at the north horizon. Them there be rain clouds. Damnit.
New plan! Head home, set up the trainer, watch the Packers, and ride. Or I could immediately get a flat rear tire. Choice- call Super Awesome Wife for a pick-up a mile and a half from the house or use this as an opportunity to practice changing a tire on the road. Practice! I'm not great at changing my tubes yet and on a race day I don't want to be stuck and screwed. And it wasn't raining. Ok, so it was, but not much. At that moment. Oh wait, now it is. And now it stopped. But now it is. You get the idea. Got the wheel off, got the tire off, got the tube out, new tube lined up, tucked in, seated, tire back on, inflate (after a little fighting with the stem), small happy dance, wheel back on the bike...and tire goes flat again. Anyone want to guess what step I missed? Yes, the tall, balding man in the back? That's right, I forgot to check the tire for the cause of the original flat. Which means whatever evil little pointy messed up my first tube just messed up my second (and only spare). Gold star for you. Which led to this:
|Pictured: Dirtbag Tantrum|
There may have been some cursing of the Cycling Gods (Feltus, Cervellonon, and Tebow, among others). There may also have been some stomping of feet and shaking of mini-bike pump.
As penance for my mistake I shlepped the bike home on my shoulders, as rolling it a mile and a half on the rim seemed ill-advised. And now it sits in the corner waiting for me to fix it again, but I'm not willing to look at it quite yet. Luckily, it didn't rain at all the whole walk back. Oh wait...