The creatures that die from winter's assault often do it at the threshold of spring. The weather may have become milder, but food is still hard to find. Each day closer to easier conditions still makes the animal a day weaker.
Cyclists who get fat and slow over the winter continue to get fatter and slower until the very day they begin riding again.
This has been my worst winter for physical conditioning in 30 years. My training regimen has consisted of one-handed curls with too many mugs of coffee, staring moodily out the window, and bad fiddle playing. Really bad fiddle playing, in case you think I'm just being modest. Somehow, the idea of learning to play the damn thing from a very late start in life has seized my interest. Many things encroach easily on the time once set aside for the weight bench, indoor ski machine and rollers.
We've shortened Sunday hours at the shop so I can fit a commute into daylight. Because so much of my route is on dark, hilly, rural highways I have not bothered to challenge the concerns of my loved ones by riding the commute in the dark too often. However, this schedule change will help me get several more rides before Daylight Relocating Time starts next Sunday. At that point only ice and snow will stop the commute. Those are hardly unlikely, even in a shabby winter like this one. We shall see.
I always have to retrain the motoring public to watch out for smaller road users during this part of the season. I'm considering getting a jersey that says, "honk if you love my middle finger." At least that way they've been warned.
I do try to restrain the digital reflex, since it doesn't really help. I'll really have made it to a higher plane when I no longer get pissed off at all. I can't imagine that happening very soon, but maybe if I cut back severely on the caffeine...
It's really weird to have early March look this much like early April. I've ridden in the snow in late May, so winter could draw a bead on us at any time. Meanwhile it's time to crawl out of the den as much as possible.