I wimped out tonight. Yeah, I’ll admit it. I really did.
I was supposed to go on an urban bike ride tonight. The Tuesday Night Clydesdale Rides are starting up again, and though we normally go mountain biking, the rule is that we do an urban downtown ride when the trails are sloppy. It rained a lot this last weekend, and the report coming from IC King (our usual Tuesday evening haunt) was slick, snotty slop. Thus, downtown we go.
But I didn’t go. I wimped out. Nevermind that it actually snowed this morning. Nevermind that the temperature was only in the upper 30’s as of our designated meeting time. Nevermind that the wind speed is 15 or so miles per hour with gusts of up to 30 miles per hour (it blew my hat off at one point today). Nevermind that I’m still getting over being sick. Nevermind that it was spitting little bits of rain as I drove home from work. Nevermind that Wally had already started backing out when I talked to Ron. Nevermind all that. I wimped out.
Oh, yes I did. You’d better believe it.
For those who don’t get the title’s reference, it's a phrase that was commonly used by Popeye’s friend, Wimpy.