Tag Archives | not doing stuff

Not So Fat On Ice

The week that was, er, wasn’t. There was very little riding over the last six days. There were a few trips down to the Not-So-Stankment to climb on the treadmill (including one five-mile walk, run, lumber-fest) and one trainer ride that lasted roughly 5 minutes before I said “fuck it” and quit.

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Finally Forgiven

Heaven, earth, hell, multi-dimensional planes, planets, and universes lined up on a crisp and cool Tuesday morning to make the love making-like magic of a slow rolling dirt road ride happen. Joy to the f-ing world.

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Try This

Riding has been on the back burner for a few days now due to schedules, weather, travel for B’s soccer, and other crap-ol-la. Things finally look clear for a Tuesday but I haven’t gone for it yet, so this post has nothing to do with it.

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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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Forced But Worth It

I was up early Saturday morning to let Jake (the dog) out. He took just long enough to do his business that I put aside notions of returning to the Chamber of Farts, got a cup of coffee and sat down to watch Spurs lose to Man U. I did all of this with the idea that I would not be riding. The gray skies, cold temps, and steady wind made sitting around watching soccer and drinking coffee until it was a reasonable time to drink beer just too appealing.

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The Cure For Pain

The title of this post suggests that I am going to wax poetic about my ongoing fisticuffs with the “black dog,” attempt to sell you some sort of $19.99 faux copper-infused compression stocking snake oil shit that will dull the pain of your torn rotator cuff, or talk at length about the greatness of the song Cure For Pain by the band Morphine.1 But I’m not, I’m gonna talk about my ass. Again!

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Better Than But Chafed

The second cup of coffee is now down my gullet. There is still much work to be done in the getting awake department and even more to be done in the wanting to be awake department as a cold rain pisses down outside my window.

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