I Can't Handle the Truth

Riding my bike sucks!
Freakin big time!
No, this is no April Fool's thing, this is for real.
Suck! Suck! Suck!
For today at least.
We've been having some winds this past week and today it finally died down to a reasonable level. So out I went.
I figured, hey! I took five days off from riding so this should be good. I mean my legs should be rested and fresh so pavement, look out!
Wrong!
I think something is wrong with me for today, I couldn't pedal my way out of a wet paper bag. I wasn't huffing and a puffing or anything, my legs just didn't want to cooperate with me.
In fact, I think they took the day off.
Or went on strike.
Or something.
I can't remember the last time I was so miserable on my bike.
Wait.
That would be last week.
I was miserable, but I was fast. er.
Fact is, today I realized how much I actually suck at riding.
Okay, maybe it was the two old guys who passed me.
That really sucked.
My brain said to go catch them, my legs said "what you talkin bout Willis?"
I looked down at them in disbelief!
Betrayed! By my own legs!
Now I can see if they were someone else's legs, I mean I wouldn't expect someone else's legs to go to work to catch two old gentlemen riding road bikes.
I did however, expect my legs to respond with the massive amount of power stored within them.
Instead of the surge of strength worthy of a nuclear reaction, I got nothing.
Like going out to start your car and all you get is a click.
Dead.
The thing is, I sort of like the legs I got now, so trading them in is not an option. I mean I worked pretty hard to get them to where they are now.
Miles and miles of hard work went into sculpting these works of muscular art so it's not like I can just get up and leave them.
I feel sort of attached to them don't you know.
So, I'm hoping that today was just a fluke.
An anomaly if you will.
Perhaps I caught my legs off guard and they just weren't ready to go today. Maybe they didn't get the memo and thought that today was Law & Order day, so instead of ramping up the watts, they went into couch potato mode.
Or maybe the truth is that I suck.
When they were handing out the cycling genes, maybe I was in the wrong line and instead I got something else, like oh, blue genes.
Get it? Blue jeans? Nevermind.
Could it be that my destiny is not to ride a bicycle but to do something else?
What else is there for a short fat guy to do?
I sure ain't fast on a bike.
Unless.
Unless I change my speedometer to kilometers per hour.
I bet I'd be freakin fast if I did that.
Looking down and seeing something like forty on the display would sure brighten up my day. I could just pretend like I was riding somewhere else, like say Canada or something.
I'd just have to keep a look out for old men on road bikes.
Boy, the truth sucks.