Showing posts from January, 2014

Motivation, or lack thereof

I stare out the living room window. It's foggy, 38 degrees. There's an air stagnation advisory and what little breeze there is carries the sour bite of wood smoke from stoves and slash piles. It's been this way for three weeks. I walk to the back room where my kit is stored and mentally weigh how much clothing I'll need to put on to go for even a short ride. My shoulders sag. I walk back to the living room and stare out the window again. I go get the furniture polish and clean the coffee table. I run the dishwasher. I return to my vigil at the living room window. Carolyn doesn't want me to ride in this fog. She's afraid I'll get shot. She might have a point. I don't want to ride in this fog. I'm afraid I'll hate it. I know I'll hate it. What's to like? Hard work and hypothermia, what a nice way to spend an afternoon.  Looking out the window seems like a much better idea. I throw another log in the fire and continue to wallow in the