I cannot win. There was the CrossFit injury, the car troubles, and my broken bike chain. And now this.
I slept 12 hours last night, solid. I was exhausted and skipped my second workout last night in favor of rest. My company's summer outing was awesome, but I was strangely wiped out.
This morning, I biked to meet my sister and pick up my packet for tomorrow's Fort2Base Race. I'm running the 10-Nautical Mile race, just like I did in 2011. I cycled the 20 miles and picked up everything for tomorrow (Thanks Scott and Mandy for saving me a trip into the city) then set out for the reverse trip.
I pulled into a forest preserve to use the toilet, then realized my rear tire went flat. I still don't know how to change a tire and don't keep a tube around as a result. I didn't have anyone to call, either, so I googled the closest bike shop on my phone and started walking that way with my bike, in cycling shoes. It was 3.3 miles away, and halfway there, a guy stopped and asked if I needed help. He had two very expensive mountain bikes on the back of his car and was wearing a full cycle kit, so I decided he probably wasn't going to chop me into bits. He also knew how to take apart my bike and where the shop was, so I felt pretty safe in taking a ride from a stranger. The bike shop knew him by name and I was ready to go in about a half an hour. Unfortunately, my tire was dry rotting, so it was another $50 repair.
When I finally got home, I decided to try a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the waffle iron since I've been obsessing about it since I saw this article about 16 ways to improve your PB&J on BuzzFeed.
Verdict? Meh. Didn't do much for me.
Please oh please let my luck improve soon.