As I sat on my patio last night grilling dinner in a hooded sweatshirt I realized that summer was coming to an end. In Pittsburgh it’s not uncommon for the warm weather to stick around until mid-October but there is an undeniable fall feeling that comes with the first day you find yourself digging for warmer clothes for outdoor activities. This year’s summer didn’t quite go as I had planned.
Things started to unravel long before the sun decided to bring its winter slumber to a fiery ending. In January I was committed to a solid training schedule with hopes of dramatically improving my racing results by the end of the summer. Work promptly stepped in like a bitchy substitute teacher who decided to teach her own agenda instead of following the lesson plans in a desperate battle for control over the giddy, misbehaving masses. With a cup of poor planning, a tablespoon of misguided expectations, and a pinch of naivety, a project that was to be resolved in early May took a lengthy turn for the worst. This lead to weeks of long hours that helped to derail my training regimen until it was little more than a optimistic New Years resolution. I knew my racing ambitions were in serious jeopardy when I’d ridden less then 100 miles by the time the Mingo Creek race series (which I didn’t do) arrived. When the dust settled at work it was just about time for the weekly criterium series to start. I knew I’d have some work to do to get into race shape and the crits are the perfect tool to do just that. Of course, just when I started to feel like my riding was on a steady path to improving my body decided to get in a nasty fight with 18th Street leaving me with a broken knee cap and little hope of racing for the duration of the year.
For anyone who has been reading my blog over the last few months, this is obviously just a reiteration of the ranting that I had a chance to do in my down time waiting for the bone to heal. The difference now is that I am attempting to write from the murky puddle of reflection. I thought that spending the majority of the summer trapped not only from my primary form of transportation, entertainment, excitement, and exercise, but also from all of the warm weather activities that make summer worth enjoying would have left a reflecting pool the size of Lake Michigan. After all, it’s the camping trips, bike polo, bike races, alleycats, drinking by the river, or just hanging out at the pool with Sarah that draws me toward the few short months in the middle of the year; It’s most certainly not the swamp ass, mosquito bites, and inappropriately dressed overweight Pittsburghers.
To my surprise, it wasn’t the time that I spent working towards regaining my social mobility, but the few weeks of getting back to my normal routine that have shed a little light on my appreciation for the mundane things that bring me a bit of pleasure and the people that I am able to share those experiences with. I have a refreshed appreciation for the things that had become almost boring in my everyday life. I don’t mind taking the long way to work, climbing the two flights of stairs from the grill to the kitchen, or walking down to Fat Head’s for a beer. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that I’m some seeing the world from some newborn/seen-the-light eyeballs. But I have noticed a certain enjoyment for the simple things that I couldn’t do while I was broken. Maybe I’ve just realized that summer is almost over and I haven’t had a chance to do most of the usual summer-time things so I had better get working on planning and enjoying what’s left of the outdoor weather while it’s still around. Now, on to planning a September camping trip. Who’s in?