Some Hesher's Joyride

High 70s. Clear skies. A Sunday afternoon.
Recipe for a great ride? You betcha!
Until you take into account the sneaky swift wind out in the country.
I looked at flags on the way out...seemed pretty still.
Kept thinking, "Wow, this weather is perfect and, for once, no wind!"
I was deluded, dear friends. That was the tailwind.
I turned about after the first hour and discovered the source of my prior perfection when I met it going the other way. (I'm still talking about the wind.) Man! The next hour was a pain-fest of the next-to-highest order! I had hoped to do more, but 33 miles was all I could manage at this early season, not-quite-in-shape-yet stage.
Then, to make matters worse, I coughed for a solid half hour when I got home as I have a cold or allergies or something filling my upper regions with phlegmy yuckiness. I got no sympathy for all my suffering, and was instead told, "It's self-inflicted. Don't do it again then."
That's like telling the alcoholic factory worker not to stop at the drive thru to get a 12 pack to drink on the way home. It's gonna happen almost every day.