Day 21: Blue Skies/Blue Thighs

Day 21 miles to/from work: 23.5
Total miles for S4S: 540.9

Blue skies smiling at me,
Nothing but blue skies do I see.
                             -Irving Berlin 

This morning it was sun and blue skies! Yea! Let's not talk about temperatures in the 40s and wind. Actually, the temperatures weren't bad—I was dressed for it and quite comfortable. But the wind, coupled with tired, sore legs made it a long ride in. For 13.4 miles there wasn't a pedal stroke for which my quads weren't bitterly complaining and singin' the blues. As my legs were screaming, I was thinking of them as ill-mannered guests along for the ride. Then I realized the unfairness of that assessment since they were doing the work in getting me there. I've mentioned my propensity for telling myself jokes (usually bad ones) as I pedal; and these thoughts brought one of my favorites to mind:

The couple who, having booked an amazingly cheap Mediterranean cruise, were gathering their luggage at the pier when they were struck on the head, carried down to the hold of a Roman galley, and shackled at the ankles. They were forced to row to the insistent beat of a large drum and were lashed with a whip if their rhythm lagged. Returning to port ten days later, the couple were filthy, tattered, and in pain from the rowing and lashings. As they were walking down the gang plank, the woman turned to her husband and asked, "Do you think we should tip the drummer?"

Once again Scott and I had Friday after-work plans—a shredding party ("bring all your old records that need to be shredded") outside our financial advisor's office, complete with brats and burgers. Biking there to meet Scott was about 3 miles shorter than my usual ride home, but I should get extra points for the hair-raising adventure of going down the Belt Line's frontage road with cars blasting past at 60 mph.

After shredding and socializing, we went to Porta Bella Restaurant for a drink. Adjacent to the UW campus, and with this being The Night Before The Big Game and 20,000 Nebraska fans in town, the streets were hoppin'. Scott, who has been going to Porta Bella since 1967, likes to remind employees (in this case our very nice bartender, Anthony) that he was a customer there before they were born. No one has ever disagreed with him. While enjoying this interlude of romantic atmosphere and alcohol, the sun set; and the skies went from blue to indigo to black. The distressed "blue" thighs eased into relaxation and forgot to complain. Thus closed the week and the first month of Sweating for Shelter. Welcome to the weekend.