Who needs luck?

un•luck•y

adj. un·luck·i·er, un·luck·i·est

1. Subjected to or marked by misfortune.
2. Resulting or likely to result in misfortune; inauspicious.
3. Not producing the desired outcome; disappointing.

Sometimes, it would be nice to be a lucky person, but I'm not, and I deal with that. It doesn't help that I'm also clumsy and have a very high pain tolerance (which leads to recklessness and/or not noticing I've been injured). In the last two weeks, I succumbed to a series of falls that have left me bloody, bruised, and now scabby. But my misadventures don't always leave me broken, sometimes they have ill effects on my bike instead. Today, a mere 5-6 miles out my door, my chain broke during a sprint. No, that's not right, it didn't break: it was eaten. Chewed up and spit out by my chainring.

So tomorrow (Black Friday) after my 3:30am shift at a big box retail store, I will hoof it to the bike shop. Hopefully the answer will be as simple as a defective chain and I'll be good to go. But in the mean time, seeing as it is Thanksgiving, I think I should list what I'm thankful for.

1. My mom. Without her, I would've had to hike it back to the house in 38°F misty rain today. Instead, she came and picked me up in her SUV. [Plus, it was sort of like having a team car, which was kind of cool.] Oh—she's also the best mom ever. I should probably point that out, too.
2. My cycling friends. I owe a lot of how far I've come this year to you guys. Seriously.
3. My coworkers. You make working in a retail toilet tolerable. Thank you.
4. My legs. I love them, and somehow no matter how much I cut/scrape/bruise/otherwise maim them, they are always ready for more pedaling.
5. Having a trainer instead of rollers. Seriously, I don't even want to think about how much trouble I'd be on rollers.

I may or may not think of more things I'm thankful for (there are many), but this is all my mind can come up with at the moment in its turkey-induced coma.