Ever had one of those weekends where you feel like you’ve been put through the wringer and then some? That was me, this past weekend at the “8 Hours of Labor” event. And let me tell you, it was more laborious than trying to find a decent cup of coffee in a tea-loving country. I spent a good chunk of it pushing myself so hard, I swear my legs were ready to unionize and go on strike. And amidst all this, I’m scratching my head, wondering why I’m feeling like a character out of a tragedy – you know, the kind that makes even Shakespeare go, “Dude, lighten up.”
So, I’m thinking, there’s got to be a reason for this misery that’s more profound than my apparent lack of common sense when it comes to self-preservation. Maybe Joe has a clue. That guy’s got more insights than a fortune cookie factory.
Boneshakerbike 
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