Work is tiring. Not really the work itself, but the overly cliche road warrior life that lies systemic to it. Some of it is unavoidable. I'm currently sitting at CLT, where I've been for 3 hours. As planning goes, this is no good. AVL is a mere 2 hours from here, but I get to sit here for over 3 hours to wait for a 20 minute flight. This kind of inefficiency is exhausting.
The other kind of tired is self induced. San Fran is my favorite foster city. I live there in hotels, explore the side streets of the city and have fresh experiences on a daily basis. The past four days were spent wandering the city, connecting bars with old friends and meeting some interesting folks over shared stool space. This was all made possible by 70 degree temps and a fresh resupply of funds now that I've returned. I'm pretty sure the combined beer list supremacy of The Monk's Kettle, Zeitgeist, Amnesia, and Toronado was a catch 22. Sampling surely replenishes the soul for me, but it has its physical drawbacks; namely an accumulating fatigue that has rendered me all but useless today.
I've flown through the night in an effort to spend 4 or 5 hours with my personal belongings, pick up the Dieringer from Alex at Pro Bikes, and drive into Georgia's mountains to yet another favorite foster home. I'm going through the motions for the time being, hoping that I can recharge at the Mulberry Gap Mountain Bike Getaway over night in time for the second Snake Creek Gap Time trial. The "plan" has completely unraveled into the future. This will be my final attempt at Snake this year. I have a luckluster lead at the moment, and am going into this one half cocked at best. Oh how the troubled economy manifests itself.