Laziness tastes like bile

My girlfriend just told me about this workout regimen she does that starts at 6 a.m.

This means she gets up at LEAST at 5:30 to get her arse dressed and over to the gym.

I think it's sweet. She so dedicated, waking up, all making herself a better person. Awwww....

I had that aspiration. See, I ride a bike. And I will be riding that bike many miles over many moons. That is the plan. Only, so far-- with this craptacular weather-- I haven't been riding said bike during ANY moons.

I have been looking at her, my beautiful Blue, petting her pretty frame, lovingly dusting her saddle... meanwhile my personal saddle looks more equine ready than cycle ready.

So I got this sales flyer in the mail, $10 off purchases of $50 or more at my preferred cyclery and I think YES! I will get a trainer-- one of those thingamajobbers (technical term) that makes your awesome road bike a stationary bike. This is PERFECT, I tell myself. No excuses not to train! No more blaming the weather! I can hop on Blue any time I want, night or day, and cycle away. See? I was so happy I was rhyming.

So I rushed out and used that ten-dollar coupon and bought the trainer and I was so happy. I set my bike up and she looked so pretty, all standing in the middle of my room (instead of leaning against the wall). I walk by her and lovingly pat her frame and dust her...

Nothing's changed.

I will get on the bike.

I will cycle my arse off.

I will find a better seat so I'm not dying from saddle sores.

Meanwhile, what's this bile-like taste in my mouth? Hmmm... kinda like.... LAZINESS.