Excuses, excuses.

Woke up this morning at 165.2, a new low.  Weigh day is really tricky because the day before weigh day, in weight-watchers, is the last day to use up all your activity points.  I usually blow out with a pizza the day before, so that on "weigh day" I'm heavier than usual.  This time, however, I decided to have a big bowl of popcorn.  Which is not heavy at all.

My planned workout today is to leave from my house, go up a major boulevard, which climbs about 200 feet over 8 or so miles, then levels out at 6000 feet, and then descends over 5 miles to just over 5000 feet.  Then, turn around and climb back up and come back home.  The plan is to do this 3 times, which should be about 70 miles.

But for now, I'm sitting here trying to figure out why I won't get up and go on my bike ride on what is, arguably, the most  beautiful day we've had in months.  I can't use the excuse that it's too cold.
 I figure the next step is to get dressed, so I'll go do that.

Yesterday I had a handy excuse: Jake kept getting out so, by golly, I had to stay here and watch him.  Well, then Baboo fixed it so that he couldn't get out, so I'm out of excuses.  Then he fixed my flat.  There goes another excuse.  Dammit.

I have to keep reminding myself that if I do this ride, I'll lots of weight-watcher points, which use over the week to nibble, nibble, nibble.

I'll go get dressed now, I guess.  Then it's just a matter of going out the door, right?
Right.

UPDATE, an hour later: I did get dressed.  I was actually psyched, and ready to go.  I wheeled my bike down the driveway...then saw Jake running up and down the street.  I put him back in the back yard, and he was out within minute.  Little $#it.  I have no idea how he's getting out.

No ride until I figure out how to keep him safe.
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