I’m a morning person.
As long as morning doesn’t start before 9 a.m., and nobody talks to me for the first hour after I wake up. Otherwise, I feel like setting fire to the world.
So I just couldn’t make myself face early wake-ups this weekend. Early this winter, I had every intention of doing this year’s Frosty Bottom race, which was held on Saturday. But that would have involved getting up by 7 a.m.
I considered joining friends for a ride on the Herning Trail outside the town of Houston this morning. But that would have meant getting up about 6 a.m. When I was sipping a cold beer about 10:30 last night, I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Instead, I slept in a bit, then headed out to do my own version of the Frosty. My friend Kathy called when I was driving to the ride, and said she’d join me with her husky, Denali. We rode about 32 miles under sunny skies and perfect temps in the neighborhood of 20 degrees.
My legs felt strong all day. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt better while spending nearly four hours on a fat bike. But if I started feeling all bad-assy, all I had to do was look at Denali, who ran 32 miles, and loved it.