The Science of Wind

Al Roker my eldest son is not. I asked him to tune in to The Weather Channel so I could gauge the temperature, wind and inevitable rain. He gave me the goods. No rain and a sunny 49. That 49 was the high. I left my house with the temp far south of that at around 39. Subtract wind-chill and I’m sub-freezing. Not a happy camper at all this morning. The wrong gloves can completely spoil a ride. Around mile 7 my fall gloves were in way over their head. This camper was no happier.

I never understood the science behind turning in all different directions and seemingly always riding into the wind. I had the feeling that if I were to double back, I would still be in a headwind. The cold had gotten into my gloves and the wind my head. I’m sure if I had went to try to kick a field goal, the ball would be moved off line and I would go flying wildly out of control into the air. Just one of those mornings, yet still a typical cold weather commute.

My old chum @robin has me consciously thinking about about the snot I expel and the people it touches, not literally speaking of course. It takes a skilled veteran to seamlessly shoot snot rockets on the fly while not screwing up cadence. I was almost there. Robin has me thinking about it again. The cold just brings all that nasal crap to the surface. Gotta clear it. I prefer to use my right nostril as it is out of the line of sight. My left nostril and I have issues. I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t always cleared my shoulder. Motorists don’t quite get the use of the practice. Nothing too relatable. For having water as it’s base snot has a lower freeze rate than just water alone. I don’t think there’s a Nobel in science coming to me for that discovery, but knowledge is knowledge.

As I entered the downtown part of Paterson I noticed a guy wearing a bandana and big hoodie and Crocs. I guess the standards for being a hood change from time to time. They were olive, so I guess he could pair them up well with the other hoodies in his collection.

After having my ass thoroughly handed to me by the elements, I crested one last hill. All the fight was gone. I cruised down the slope to my office, unclicked and went directly to the Kuerig in all my Lycra glory.

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