Johnny Pluotseed

Yesterday on my lunch ride, I stormed straight into the wind all mad with guilt. Guilt from driving alllll the way to Sattley and not racing the TT. My lunch ride was gonna be all about penance and I had just the gnarly headwind to scream my act of contrition to.

But racing just wasn't a good option this weekend. Those other time trials were short enough that I could fake them. Who cares that I never ever practice time trial stuff when its only a half hour? Thats like the time Laura talked me into doing a 5K run. I don't run, but it was just 5k and so it didn't really matter. But a 10K would have killed me. And a 40K time trial would have done the same, and it would have done it in the ugliest of ways.

And of course, come Monday morning, I felt all guilty about it.

So I am roaring into the wind, on the flattest, straightest, chipsealiest, headwindiest road in Morgan Hill, making a beeline for the smog of San Jose. I am thinking about how I will tear it up on the way back too, when I spot a cute little fruit stand.

"No time for cute little fruit stands when you are suffering!" said my guilt.

"But fruit is good for you" said me.



And I stopped and bought a bag of pluots. But the pluots didn't fit into my jersey pockets. I needed to eat some. And I did and they were soooo good. I stuffed the rest into my pockets and headed back to work all ready to crank out some more suffering. But those pluots in my back pockets kept bouncing around, and they were so yummy and sweet. And with the tailwind, it was easy to ride, eat, and pitch the pit.

And they were pretty much all gone by the time I got back to work.

So, if 10 years from now, you spot a bunch of pluot trees by the side of Hale Ave, you know why.