Gassed

My lungs are toast because I rode my bicycle to work all week. Yes, it was Bike to Work week and I usually fully commit to it, but this year, my full participation was actually necessitated by a fuel system breakdown on my motorcycle.

At any rate, after pedaling into out-of-control headwinds and inhaling what felt like cubic yards of dust and pollen for five days, I can feel a head cold type of thing coming on. Worse yet, in replacing the fuel tap gasket on my motorcycle, I poured a good bit of gasoline on my hands. I've never found a soap or cleaner that would get rid of the smell of gas, and huffing the residual vapors seems to be making my lungs feel even worse. At least I'll have an alternate set of wheels in case I get too sick to ride a bicycle.

But I won't get that sick, dammit.

I'm hoping a day or two off the bicycle and good night's sleep will let me beat back this respiratory crap because the Bike Swap is tomorrow. I always make the Bike Swap. Also, I'm convinced I've been able to avoid getting sick in the past by willpower alone, and that's what I intend to do now.

And despite the fatigue and nascent lung mung, the week of commuting went pretty well. With my mountain bike fork still down (it'll go back under warranty soon), riding to and from work was my best chance to get in some rides before the heat settles in. The Bike Fest on Friday was fun like it always is - I may be a misanthrope but it's good to hang with other bike commuters. Also, I'll ride anywhere if there's free coffee and muffins, not to mention choice swag.

It's time to go make lunch, digest a little, then go lift some weights. See? If I'm working out, then I must not be sick, right? Right. I've got to believe.