Going Anyway.

I'm looking at the security camera feed that serves as my window. It's raining. Looking at the tip of the flag at the corner of one of my displays, the wind has started to kick up. Not enough to make the camera on the pole shake, but enough so I'd notice.
  
I'm having an internal debate about whether or not I'm going to ride. I didn't get the best sleep last night, so I'm more than a little off. I didn't eat well, so I'm feeling sluggish. I really don't want to slap on the fenders and all of the wet-weather kit. I would rather not have to clean the bike yet again.
  
And yet, as I'm having this discussion, I'm grabbing my kit bag to walk down to change. All of these arguments really are just weak excuses. Of course I'm tired. Of course I'm going to get wet. Of course the bike will get dirty. That's the price of playing the game, and the game is still fun enough to justify the cost of admission.
  
I want every day to be warm and sunny with no wind, but I rarely get that. What I get is a cold-soaking driven into my face by gale-force winds.
 
That's my kind of fun.

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