Never Trust Your Weatherman

Wow, in the time between my last post and this one, the countdown to the Rutgers Frozen-Toed Season Opener has dropped from 19 days to 1. That came up on us fast. Not that I'm complaining. How could I? It's finally time to race bikes again!

After a hectic week of paper-writing, endless reading, and incessant cramming to get ahead for the weekend, I'm finally sitting here an hour and a half before departure, killing time until dinner watching the Food Net......ahem, I mean the manliest thing I can find on TV at the moment - James Bond. But seriously, I'm incredibly excited to finally get away for the weekend and test myself against the rest of the ECCC and see who has and has not been getting in their miles during this decidedly bizarre winter. It's only March, and it's only collegiate, so results now mean absolutely nothing. Regardless, it's always fun to do well, and it's always fun just to race. I felt mediocre at best most of this week, but after a few short openers this morning, my legs finally felt pretty normal again, and I think I'm in good shape for the weekend.

Back to the topic of bizarre weather, I have to say that I hereby renounce the use of all weather-predicting services. I will henceforth rely on the only tried and true indicator of weather: look out the f-ing window. Rain? Snow? Oh poo. Sunshine? Yay.


Honestly, the weather men in New England are absolute morons. Multiple times in the past week I have gone to bed mentally prepared for another day on the trainer, only to wake up to a sunny sky and to see that the forecasters have changed their minds and decided that it is not, in fact, going to snow today. Such was the case this morning, much to my delight, and I was able to get in a perfect pre-race ride. The day that undoubtedly took the cake, however, came last Friday, when I once again went to bed expecting to wake up to another awful New England day. Fortune shown upon me, though, as when I woke up at 7:30 to use the boy's room, I was smart enough to take a peak out my window. Greeting me was a partially blue sky, dotted with some ominous looking clouds. The predicted precipitation was no where in sight. I bolted to the computer, refreshed the useless weather.com I always keep open (why?), and discovered that the rain/snow/miscellaneous precip. would not be arriving until 1 pm. So I dashed off to breakfast, scarfed down my usual meal, kitted up, and set out before 9 am. Save a few flurries around the midway point in the ride, I was safe. That is, until the final 30 minutes of my nice 4-hour jaunt.

The skies were suddenly completely blotted out by low, dark clouds. I had just enough time to pull over and yank on my rain cape before the heavens opened up with a combination of snow/rain/sleet/slush/hail, with the emphasis on hail. I drove it home as fast as I could, which in hindsight was not the best decision, as that only amplified the effect of the falling hail on my exposed face. The result was not pleasant. All I could do, though, was laugh. It was just Mother Nature's way of telling me that I have a problem. But you know what, Mother Nature? Well, I really don't know what, but I'll think of something. In the meantime, keep it coming, because you're not going to win.