I just got home from a 48-mile ride. I got start, because I was listening to the voice in my head that wanted to crawl back under the covers. In hindsight, I probably should have listened, because I rode both Thursday and Friday. But I wanted a long ride, something around 30. So I rode up to Xenia, then south on the Little Miami trail. When I left my house I was hungry, despite eating breakfast. I was still doing okay to ride 30 by the time I got to Xenia (it would only have been another 6 miles south of Xenia to do 30). When I got to the 6.5-mile marker, my brain said "Let's do 40!." Okay...

I passed by a big snapping turtle just past the 10.5 mile marker, and stopped to take some pictures. I realized then that I was really really hungry...and was down to 1 tube of shot blocks. Hm. I could ride the 10 back to Xenia, or I could keep going and hope there was something nearby. I had to guess that there was, because of the relatively large numbers of cyclists and the occasional pedestrian--so that means that there's a trailhead nearby, which generally means at least some sort of food. 4 miles down the trail, I found Corwin, which has a nice little restaurant near the trail. One chicken sandwich, chips, a pickle, half a can of Pepsi and a cone of cookies and cream later, I headed back. I think my legs were jelly by the time I got back to the car. I called DBF to tell him I was done with the ride. He asked "Why don't you go out and do another two miles?" I think he heard the look I gave him...

I am tired. I think it's time to go take a shower and eat some ridiculously large quantity of mac and cheese. Not at the same time.