Exhaustion sets in
Huge exhaustion. Diva-style exhaustion. Oh, well, I guess not, as that’s actually a cover for some kind of amphetamine addiction, but you know what I mean. I spent last week dreading the coming weekend, and I’ll spend the first couple of days of this week getting over it. Two long-distance bus trips, an orchestra competition, the chaperoning of 11 (count ’em: 11) middle-schoolers at an amusement park, a birthday party, a ballet fundraiser, a late mother’s day/early birthday, and last but not least, the Giro. So just imagine.
Friday we had the Great East Festival, which combines an orchestra/band/chorus competition of sorts with a day at Six Flags New England (known to us old timers as Riverside Park in Agawam, Mass.) Unfortunately, what was promised as overcast turned out to be truly wet, and we spent the first 2.5 hours getting soaked in the rain, but what were ya gonna do? I solved the problem of how possibly to supervise 11 middle-schoolers by immediately giving in to the pleas of the pack of eighth-grade girls to be allowed to go off on their own. How much trouble could 14-year-old girls get into on their own? Luckily, they didn’t, and kept to their promise to meet at the rendezvous exactly at the appointed time. That left me with my daughter and five very nice, funny boys who weren’t quite as game for the big rides as my daughter was, so it worked out just fine. No one hurled, though they came pretty close, and if you’ve never seen a freckled red-head truly turn green, I can just tell you it’s quite a sight.
We got home and got our shoes dry, sorta, and then got up at the crack of dawn for a day in NYC. Girl Scout bus trip, but we just went off on our own and wandered the City for the day, no plan, nowhere to be. It was quite nice, and the sun even came out for a while. But the return trip was lengthy, to say the least — it took us an hour to get from Bryant Park to the Lincoln Tunnel, so we got home very late. Then we had to get up on Sunday for a ballet fundraiser. By the time we were done in the afternoon, I literally fell asleep on the floor.
What didn’t happen? Well, there was no biking in the past week, because of rain and cold. Not good, considering I’ve got a 50-miler coming up way too soon. It’s currently 46 degrees, which just doesn’t inspire you to get in the saddle. Supposed to warm up for the weekend, which will be a welcome change. Weird, weird spring.
No plans for the coming weekend. There’s a massive closet project I should get ready to do, and might even be able to get through this weekend if I just screw it down. And there will have to be some miles on the bike, too.
Speaking of bikes, we’ve been watching the Giro D’Italia on Cycling.tv. The streaming has been hit and miss — of course nobody makes it easy for a Mac user, anyway, and it seems like their servers just get overloaded around about 9 at night. Sometimes it’s smooth, sometimes it’s jittery, sometimes we lose the picture altogether. But it was worth it to watch Ivan Basso somehow tear a minute and a half out of all his competition in the last four kilometers of a not terrifically difficult climb, putting himself solidly into a lead that he has now expanded into what is almost a foregone conclusion. But you’re never done until you’ve crossed the last finish line, and the Giro has tossed some top riders out the back this year, including the incredible sprinter Petacchi, who fractured a kneecap (owww!).
I’m definitely open to paying for streaming cycling, but when I was flipping around tonight, ESPN2 was showing competition paintball. I have to believe that the Giro would draw more viewers than paintball. Who would watch paintball? It’s like watching . . . . Well, you get the point.