The Joker Card

Normally, I am on the receiving end of excuses. Sunday, I did the giving. Guess I'm not used to it, and I didn't provide a particularly good one. Truth be told (and that is, after all, the one thing to which we aspire here) my reason for not riding was a poor one, piss poor, even.

I played the busy card. Too busy to ride. Too many things more important than a 45 miler on a crisp Sunday afternoon in the spring with friends.

It is true. And in self defense I am right down to it. With two spin classes on Wednesday and a 0443 shuttle departure Thursday morning for St. George, Utah, to, and get this as a RCVman first, after shooting the swim, big leg and the overall winners at the inaugural Ironman St. George, I must scramble back to the motel, take a shower, pack, and drive two hours back to Vegas for my flight home. To download, recalibrate, repack and head out Monday morning for the CompuTrainer Alaska cruise. As the more "ordered" of you will undoubtedly appreciate, there are more than a few details involved in the orchestration of these two opuses. Kilos of details if you happen to be lurking in Europe or Canada. I'm not Joking.

So I bailed. I broke one of my cardinal rues, "Never be too busy to ride."

It is also true that I was a touch overcooked from the 13.1 hilly miles run on Saturday and the 20 on the mtb pacing runners on Sunday, but THAT is another NO-EXCUSE. HTFU Alice. Just can't use 'em.

Here anyway. Excuses are for people who need to be excused. To be forgiven. To be treated like children. Or like the Joker, not taken seriously. If you break your femur playing street football with your neighbor's kids (Locker back to pass, he's got Kearse breaking open on a deep cross, TOUCHDOWN HUSKIES), that is one thing,

Playing the busy card is another one altogether.

Weak.

Tomorrow perhaps we'll provide a list of the all-time best excuses, and how weak even THEY are.