Every year around this time, I experience the rando-blearies. Despite commuting and riding centuries-plus year round, when the temperatures rise and the sun lingers longer in the sky, I want to be out there even more.

It doesn’t help that I’m married to Felkerino, my partner in all things bicycling and beyond. Oh, you are riding on Saturday? Yeah, well, me too! You’re going out on Sunday? Don’t even think about going out there by yourself. Rest? That’s what I did all winter!

The flèche, one of the early season randonneuring events, is also a big contributor to the rando-blearies, requiring some long ride preparation (for us a 150-mile ride or longer), as well as a period of more than 24 hours with no sleep during the actual ride.

When was the last time I went for 24 hours on no sleep outside of the flèche? How about never. Even in college, I would finagle a two-hour nap when pulling all-nighters.

In March I managed over 600 miles of cycling. As of today, I’ve already ridden around 500 miles for April with a 300K looming this weekend, which is typical for this time of year. My running miles have also stayed consistent with the last two months. I’m blissfully happy for all the great riding and can’t stop the fever of wanting to be outside, but the blearies are still managing to have their way with me.

Felkerino and I (I confess, mostly Felkerino) have been cooking some delicious meals to curb our appetites, which are more voracious than normal from all the recent riding. I’m constantly hungry, and frequently crave sugar and protein. Even so, I’ve lost five pounds.

When dinner is done, I’m excited to flop into bed and welcome a full night of sleep. For me, that usually translates into seven hours of uninterrupted bliss. I wish for more, but somehow can’t seem to organize myself to make that happen. Maybe it’s all this blogging.

Today I arrived at the post office as it was closing. They wouldn’t accept my mail so I fought back tears and shuffled off to a nearby bakery for a cookie. It did seem to help. An episode of Doc Martin, a silly and sweet PBS show about the people living in a little port town in England, brought me uncharacteristically to tears. My emotions simmer close to the surface.

It’s all part of the rando-blearies. The fine spring weather after months of cold, the longer events on the calendar, and the desire to be part of it all keep me lurching forward. It may not always be pretty, but the rando-blearies are a price I’m willing to pay to be part of the action.

Do you get the rando-blearies, too? Will I see you at Saturday’s 300K? I thought I might.

P.S. This post originally had a million typos. It probably still does. Rando-blearies!