My own personal duathlon

I had the day off, partially. I'm working tomorrow on my Holiday helping with the virtualization of our servers at work when no one else is there. I'm so excited. Can't wait until tomorrow (Read that last part in a completely flat monotone voice).

Today at least: ran 3 - rode 50 - ran 3. About a 4 1/2 hour workout.

My plan called for a 3-hour ride followed by a 10 mile run. I did a pre-run to let the temperature rise a bit, then immediately hit the bike. After the 50 mile ride I ran immediately after - another 3 miles. I was pretty dead on the last 3, and finished early due to another time commitment.

The ride was windy, but sunny and peaceful. Very few cars even passed by. I rode to Poe, IN. Then on through Yoder, then on to Roanoke, and then I got lost, thought I was heading West, but I was going North. Luckily I passed an old barn that is ready to fall down, with a windmill in the yard equally on the verge of collapse. For a few years now I've wanted to take a picture of this place - with a dominant grey thunderstorm brewing in the background. I never have my camera on me though, so it's just a dream. My little photographic dream gave me my bearings today when I happened upon the place. It felt like divinity.

I turned West and pushed it home, with a tail wind finally. On Engle Road I did not slow for a set of train tracks. At the very last second I realized that the asphalt had been recently serviced, or was in the process of being repaired. The tracks jutted out of the street. I thought of doing a little 'buny-hop', vertically jumping over the tracks. But I'm too old for that type of thing, and there was a car tight on my left. So, I hit them, hard, bumpity-bumpity. My second water-bottle popped loose, got slightly caught somehow in my rear wheel spoke, and as I continued to pedal through the bottle drove into my frame - bending a spoke. I'm heart broken. My Mavics of all things. My rear wheel is completely out of true. And - it was my favorite water bottle. It happens, bikes are mechanical and they fail.

The more I think about it the deeper the depression grows. I took my injured bike to the shop and they aren't even a Mavic dealer. I hate dealing with bike parts. At least I didn't crash on the train tracks huh? To keep on the sunny-side.