Tag Archives | i’m a fucking idiot

One Ain’t Bad

Last week started with about six or seven inches of snow and icy roads that forced schools to cancel. Somewhere in the middle of the week the temps warmed up towards 50˚ and the aforementioned snow all but melted. Then come to the end of the week the temps dropped again and froze the roads solid which aided me in finally getting out for a ride.

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Broke Like The Wind

When I rode last Saturday I returned home mentally broken like expelled wind forced betweenst the ass cheeks of a 300-pound hobo who just finished off a can of ice-cold pork ‘n’ beans. With that brokenness, I puttered and muttered through the week logging several miles of sprint intervals on the dreadmill, a session or two of pedaling nowhere fast on the trainer, perfecting my return to pescatarian eating (80% of the time), and many a night doing 12-ounce curls undoing all the work put into those workouts and diet changes.

Thankfully for all concerned that ended on Saturday when the temps warmed up and I forced myself out onto the slirty1 and snirty2 dirt roads.

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A Need To Refocus

After a week that was filled with doing a lot of stuff that I really didn’t want to do, I was looking forward to the weekend and getting out on my bike. I was, of course, prepared to ride in the snow, ice, and cold temps… it’s winter in Michigan, that shit happens.

Proper clothing, ice-gripping studs, fat tires, and a “Fuck it” (in a good way) attitude help one to make the best out of what winter throws your way, and I have nearly all of those things, yet I still came away from yesterday’s short ride mentally broken.

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Still Looking For a Cure

After three days off the bike due to soccer travel with B, weather, and “stuff,” I was finally able to get out for a ride on a dank fall morning. The ride started off bad, got worse, then got mildly tolerable. There’s no one to blame but myself, for as you all know very well, I. AM. AN. IDIOT.

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That Time I Bonked Due to Suck

DeerFeed

While Wifey has been out-of-town on .gov business this week I did everything a proper father/person should do, and that I do anyway (for the most part): Made all the meals, did laundry, got B to soccer practice, made sure his homework was done, mowed grass, did the shopping, did the dishes, took the trash out, ate properly, didn’t drink booze, smoke crack, shoot up, kill anyone or solicit prostitutes.

Given all that clean living I REALLY thought that I was up for a larger than usual (but not THAT large) multi-surface ride today. Sadly, my want to putz around taking photos, an unforeseen detour, a lack of on the bike nutrition, wind, deep sand, and higher than usual September temps turned me into a gelatinous heap of bonked suck praying for a passer-by to shoot me down like a gimp dog.

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Smell My Cob

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With the week pretty open and void of hours at the shop I headed out for another dirt road ride on the Boone today. This time I headed south of town with hopes of more dirt, less pavement, and a few more miles.

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Best Made Plans

dirtroadandbarn

After working eleven hours at the shop on Wednesday and knowing that I had the next two days off, I had a plan for my Thursday: sleep in (8:45 AM) and get thirty to forty miles of fast dirt road riding in on the Boone before cutting grass, trimming some hedges, going for groceries, doing laundry and getting B off to his last night of soccer camp, after which he would leave to spend the night with some friends and teammates while I enjoyed some white trash Mexican food and a cocktail or three while watching pre-season footy.

Here is how that worked out…

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Working & A Plus Sized Bike

boonestache

Thursday was a day off the bike and a day in the bike shop to earn some cash money. The shop was fairly busy and I found myself building up another Weehoo (Weee Hoooo!!). Thankfully I only f’ed up a few things along the way–way better than the last Weehoo build which took me forever due to a parts issue. The rest of my work day was spent getting my balls busted by Napper and Terry, unpacking and checking in inventory, and pimping bikes to folks; including a couple of Mennonite kids that I initially helped out a couple of weeks back.

The last time these two kids were in, they were with their mom looking and test riding. This time the three of them returned with dad in tow, and after his approval they left the happy owners of two new bikes. The boy in particular was stoked with his X-Caliber. Of course I wept a little bit when he wanted a kickstand installed. I waited until they left before I buried my tear filled eyes and chubby cheeks in my dirty palms.

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A Love Affair

indiabrownale

I may or may not have mentioned this before, but in the world of beer (in which I am a well steeped lover), Dogfish Head Indian Brown Ale just MIGHT be the beer that has retained most of my affection over the years. I could seriously make love to this beer… it has everything I could ever want in a beer and more. I don’t drink it all the time, but GODDAMN, when I do I sort of get all tingly in the nipple and crotchial regions.

That’s it, carry on, a more thorough blog post about nothing is forthcoming.

Later.

Photo: Soiled Chamois file photo from last weekend.

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