Wanted: A Good Night's Sleep

I'm too tired to write this. If I begin to make less and less sense and more and more typos and then the text just trails off in an unending stream of whatever letter or punctuation mark my drool bespattered chin collapses upon, please call my wife on her cell and tell her to come revive me. I just haven't been on my bike much for the last four or five months and consequently I'm really not fit enough for the Tues/Thurs ride along the lakefront, especially in a rather brisk ENE wind.

It should be noted that I can't sleep. I'm an early-riser insomniac. It's something I've struggled with

Waiting on Nashville and Fontainebleau for the Group

most of my life, but it has gotten worse over the last year or so. I can fall asleep, tout suite, on a concrete slab, but whether on a slab or in my cozy bed, I awaken after three or four hours and can't get back asleep. My insomnia is one of the reasons, among others, that I haven't been on my bike lately. I can usually gut it out in the pool for 75 minutes on minimal sleep because I know I can be sleeping again in 90 minutes. But 75 minutes into the Tues/Thurs ride puts me about 20 miles from home somewhere in west Kenner.

Anyway, I awakened at 2:10 this morning after almost four hours of sleep, but was determined to ride anyway. I was first to arrive at the start (after all I had had more than three hours to get ready) and tried to stay awake by taking selfies in the dark. Soon, Mignon rode up and began to tell me of her Six Gap Century experiences of the past weekend. Huh, I'm thinking, so what. I drank 15 beers and watched five football games. So there. As usual, Big Rich arrived last and immediately began arguing his Garmin's satellite time supported his position that 5:45 and 55 seconds is on time for a ride that leaves at 5:45.

The new route out to the lakefront isn't ideal. I can't wait for the levee to be finished. I detest riding through commuting traffic, in the dark, across uneven, potholed streets to the lake. Along Lakeshore Dr. it wasn't too bad going east into the wind, but after the turnaround we hit 31 mph and then Woody and Brian B (not MD) just rode away from us, like we were so many Vegas. Speaking of Vega, we got a report from Max that his shoulder is sore and immovable and he is waiting to get into an MRI on Wednesday.

When we were approaching Williams Blvd. and the turnaround, I noticed the OWNHB standing at some benches next to his bike looking down and wildly swinging his leg from side to side. I said there he is, waiting for us, which provoked Lenny to regale us with a story involving his son's godfather at 16, the OWNHB at fifty-something, a stun gun, and a couple of hired henchman. I was too exhausted at the time to retain sufficient details to relate them here without fear of inaccuracy, thereby inviting retaliation or a libel action, so see Lenny for further information.

Heading back into the  wind, everyone was on the south edge of the path, and I very shortly began to discuss with my inner self the proposition of softing it in alone rather than killing myself riding the edge without any draft. So I waved the one rider on my wheel around and eased up. Then Ray came up from behind and asked if I was okay. I lied and said I was fine but probably wouldn't make it home with the group. So for the next mile or so, Ray provided me with a draft and slowly pulled me up to the group. Of course, riding behind Ray into the wind on a hot, humid day is like riding in a light summer shower. But being sprinkled with sweat was a small price to pay for the draft. I don't know if Ray was done or if we were at the spot where he gets off the levee, but he waved me around him when I was still 30 meters or so off the back. Fortunately, with considerable effort, I was able to re-connect and made it home with the group.

In other news, Ray made this report of the ride on September 25th:

           My Hero

Thursday, September 25, 2014 at roughly 6:39 AM

Headed westbound somewhere between the head of Canal St. and Landry's

Anonymous: "Car back!"

Ray: "Motorcycle back!"

Mike Williams continues to hammer away in the left lane on his single gear track bike

Ray: "Mike, there's a motorcycle behind you."

Mike looks over and stares straight into Ray's eyes, almost as if to suck out the youthful, untapped cycling potential that may lie beneath

Mike: "There's a motorcycle IN ME!"

Mike shifts into... I mean, Mike accelerates past the group and dramatically cuts over as if to say, "Eat my dust!"

Mike is promptly brought back into the fold a half mile later

From other rides I made recently but didn't blog about:

Sept. 16th - Robin Making One of Many Points

Sept. 18th - Cloudy Morning Between Williams and Power

Sept. 11th - Keith Flats on Lakeshore Dr.

I hope to regain somr consistency on the bike, but I beliwve I wil need to resolv my sleep problems in order to dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd

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