One flu into the cuckoo's nest

This is one too many - second cold this winter and I usually go years between them. Still, having a bad cold should not keep one from getting some exercise. I've read that exercise is good for the cold.
Friday was a very nice day and even though I had called in sick I decided I wasn't that sick. So bundle I did and off I went.

I was perhaps 6 to 7 miles out when I started having some trouble with my balance. I was also feeling dizzy. I wasn't sure what was going on but maybe I had been foolish to head out. Well that couldn't be 'cause my mom told me she didn't raise no fool and I'm not buying that my mom lied to me all those years. No, I was fine when I headed out, a bit of a cough was all.

But there was no denying that my usual total control of the bike (ignoring ice of course) was not up to par. I was having trouble concentrating and I simply did not want to go on.

The return trip was arduous. Every little incline was the worst hill I'd ever climbed in my life. The tiniest bumps dragged the prayer out of me. This whole idea of riding a bike becomes more ridiculous with each passing moment. What a stupid way to go about the day. This was the invention of some mad man casting his demon vehicle on the world. On a bike you have one goal, don't fall over. Every little effort is given in trying to accomplish that task. I can manage to not fall over standing next to the damned thing. It's a stupid vehicle.
By the time I reached home I was done. I struggled to get the bike inside and staggered up the stairs and into bed and there I stayed.

Roughly 13 hours later and my nap was over. I'm starving and feel like shite. This isn't the flu it's the black death. I need to find a good bloodletter.

So I'm coughing up yuck and reading the newspaper and thinking about funny things to say about black death and hating the bike because I'm sick and I read the inventor of that Paratrooper mountain bike has passed away. Cripes.
I've always wanted one of those because I go to Spain quite a bit and do some long mountain bike trips there. I keep a bike there but it's cheap getting long in the tooth and I want something that's easier to store. Maybe I will this year.

77 seems so young. A truth known only to those who live long enough to know it: being on the young side of old doesn't last nearly as long as being on the old side of young. 

Rest in peace Mr. Montague.