The Responsible Thing.
I had a nice 2+ hour ride scheduled for Sunday. Maybe some hills. Maybe a loop of Anchorage. Not limited by the ruthless constraints of a training plan, I'd play it by ear.
I woke up and hobbled around, aching from the previous day's group ride. I was disgusted at myself. We hadn't ridden all that hard or all that long, so I should have been ready to go. My body wasn't feeling it. Eventually I loosened up somewhat. I knew a ride would make it feel even better.
I didn't ride.
Instead I threw myself into cleaning up the garage. Bikes and bike components were everywhere, left where they were thrown after the wreck last July. Piled haphazardly around them were the construction materials from the RV project. That where my mind was then. Hurt and not wanting to ever look at a bike again, I was more interested in keeping the project supplies out of the rain. The pile got bigger and bigger. The bikes became inaccessible, locked behind a wall of crap. Some of it was tools, some of it was "really good stuff", and some of it was junk. All mixed together in the random filing method I seem to favor. By the time the snow fell, I had to carry bikes over a low spot, shouldering them 'cross style. One false step would have broken an ankle. I needed to do something about it.
So, I started digging and sorting, making piles on the driveway like I saw on those shows about hoarders. Like an archeologist at a dig, I peeled back the strata layer by layer, recognizing the different epochs in which they were deposited. I sorted tools into different cardboard boxes based on their uses and eventual storage place. I hauled out the junk and stacked the good stuff. I swept up the dirt and leaves that had been tracked or blown in. Little by little, usable space started to appear. I hadn't seen that in a while.
When I was done, my garage was still a cluttered mess. However, it was much, much better than it was before. I could access any number of things without putting myself at risk of debilitating injury. This, my friends, was real progress. Ten bikes and a bike trailer occupy the side of the garage that has open floor space, with the rest being taken up with packed shelves, large tools, and the trainer dungeon.
I'll keep chipping away at it. I'd like to have the space to work on bikes and other projects without tripping over an expensive carbon wheelset. I need to hang more stuff from the garage ceiling, until the living room floor above it begins to sag from the excess weight. I'd like to be able to just go into the garage and get something and not have to do the mental calculus of determining if the excavation effort is worth it. I need to really de-clutter, but unfortunately while I can't remember my wife's birthday, I can remember how much I paid for each little piece of crap that currently defines my world. Letting go of it is not easy.
Yet letting go is exactly what the plan is. I going to try to sell what I can, give away what I can't, and throw away the rest. I'll never have an empty garage or even one that can be used as intended, but maybe, just maybe, I'll one day have one that you can traverse without doing yoga.
I woke up and hobbled around, aching from the previous day's group ride. I was disgusted at myself. We hadn't ridden all that hard or all that long, so I should have been ready to go. My body wasn't feeling it. Eventually I loosened up somewhat. I knew a ride would make it feel even better.
I didn't ride.
Instead I threw myself into cleaning up the garage. Bikes and bike components were everywhere, left where they were thrown after the wreck last July. Piled haphazardly around them were the construction materials from the RV project. That where my mind was then. Hurt and not wanting to ever look at a bike again, I was more interested in keeping the project supplies out of the rain. The pile got bigger and bigger. The bikes became inaccessible, locked behind a wall of crap. Some of it was tools, some of it was "really good stuff", and some of it was junk. All mixed together in the random filing method I seem to favor. By the time the snow fell, I had to carry bikes over a low spot, shouldering them 'cross style. One false step would have broken an ankle. I needed to do something about it.
So, I started digging and sorting, making piles on the driveway like I saw on those shows about hoarders. Like an archeologist at a dig, I peeled back the strata layer by layer, recognizing the different epochs in which they were deposited. I sorted tools into different cardboard boxes based on their uses and eventual storage place. I hauled out the junk and stacked the good stuff. I swept up the dirt and leaves that had been tracked or blown in. Little by little, usable space started to appear. I hadn't seen that in a while.
When I was done, my garage was still a cluttered mess. However, it was much, much better than it was before. I could access any number of things without putting myself at risk of debilitating injury. This, my friends, was real progress. Ten bikes and a bike trailer occupy the side of the garage that has open floor space, with the rest being taken up with packed shelves, large tools, and the trainer dungeon.
I'll keep chipping away at it. I'd like to have the space to work on bikes and other projects without tripping over an expensive carbon wheelset. I need to hang more stuff from the garage ceiling, until the living room floor above it begins to sag from the excess weight. I'd like to be able to just go into the garage and get something and not have to do the mental calculus of determining if the excavation effort is worth it. I need to really de-clutter, but unfortunately while I can't remember my wife's birthday, I can remember how much I paid for each little piece of crap that currently defines my world. Letting go of it is not easy.
Yet letting go is exactly what the plan is. I going to try to sell what I can, give away what I can't, and throw away the rest. I'll never have an empty garage or even one that can be used as intended, but maybe, just maybe, I'll one day have one that you can traverse without doing yoga.
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