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Seattle was great. I met new people, saw old friends again, and generally had a blast. Afterwards I was a bit tired, however.
So I spent the succeeding week working my butt off to catch up on all the stuff I missed. Which was not a good way to get less tired.
Then, I didn't want to kill my training plan, so on Sunday I rode my bike from Eugene to Corvallis (ie. to the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
olstads place - their new place that they were moving into THAT DAY). On the way I took a wrong turn (or, rather, didn't take the right turn) and ended up going about 15 miles more than I was planning. I arrived there, collapsed, drank water, napped, and then I helped them move in by setting up their A/V equipment, their computer, their wireless internet, and then by stealing their pizza. (Never let it be said that I don't fulfill at least a few stereotypes upon occasion) By this time it had gotten far too late for me to ride back (It was 63 miles there, but was probably only going to be about 49 miles back - assuming I didn't screw up again).
Of course, I didn't call home to alert interested parties that the plans had changed. Sogoteam called them up to ask if I had left in the dark and was dead in a ditch, at which point I commenced groveling.
I arrived home, and proceeded to be sick as a dog for the next 48 hours (Monday + Tuesday). 72 hours later, I am running at about 75%, so I'll probably finally head back into the office tomorrow to see if anything needs doing. And boy does it. I am pretty sure that a whole lot of anything has piled up in my absence. But the books that Andy and Stacey lent me have been fun, and I've managed watch all of Firefly, Stop Making Sense, and one disk of Buffy, so I suppose it can't be all bad.
So I spent the succeeding week working my butt off to catch up on all the stuff I missed. Which was not a good way to get less tired.
Then, I didn't want to kill my training plan, so on Sunday I rode my bike from Eugene to Corvallis (ie. to the
olstads place - their new place that they were moving into THAT DAY). On the way I took a wrong turn (or, rather, didn't take the right turn) and ended up going about 15 miles more than I was planning. I arrived there, collapsed, drank water, napped, and then I helped them move in by setting up their A/V equipment, their computer, their wireless internet, and then by stealing their pizza. (Never let it be said that I don't fulfill at least a few stereotypes upon occasion) By this time it had gotten far too late for me to ride back (It was 63 miles there, but was probably only going to be about 49 miles back - assuming I didn't screw up again).Of course, I didn't call home to alert interested parties that the plans had changed. So
goteam called them up to ask if I had left in the dark and was dead in a ditch, at which point I commenced groveling.I arrived home, and proceeded to be sick as a dog for the next 48 hours (Monday + Tuesday). 72 hours later, I am running at about 75%, so I'll probably finally head back into the office tomorrow to see if anything needs doing. And boy does it. I am pretty sure that a whole lot of anything has piled up in my absence. But the books that Andy and Stacey lent me have been fun, and I've managed watch all of Firefly, Stop Making Sense, and one disk of Buffy, so I suppose it can't be all bad.
