I should probably be brought up on charges for using a Talking Heads lyric as a headline. But that’s the good thing about being a Catholic, even a lapsed one — the prospect of Purgatory to mend all trespasses.
So: I’m writing, and it’s not Friday, so what gives? I didn’t make it through the ride. Rain and a tender achilles tendon, not necessarily in that order, caused me to drop out just under a third of the way through. I’m a little disappointed, but not crushed. I’m not limping today, and I’m not riding in the recurring downpour I’ve heard outside the hotel all day. That, and chocolate milk and Pringles, have made this day better than yesterday. A lot of people have DNF’d because of the weather; the gentleman above, who hails from Ontario, Canada, is a fellow refugee on the morning TGV from Rennes to Paris.
One of the advantages of getting off the road is that my mind is still clear about what happened; it wasn’t so clear after having done the whole ride in 2003. So sooner rather than later, a full accounting of my little part of the ride will be forthcoming. And for all those still on the road, bonne route et bon courage.