Tag Archives | sorry attempts at humor

Slow Again

Today as I readied my bottles for my ride I briefly thought about taking the PrOcal out. Then I remembered how packed down and fast the roads were yesterday morning and how well the Boone performed on said roads. “What could change in 24 hours?” I thought. It turns out the dumping of fresh gravel on just about every gravel road north of town is what. Cuss!

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Not Speaking in Code

After Sunday’s ride, I entered a two-day period of nothingness. Other than catching up on some stuff, getting some house chores done, and another doctor’s appointment there was not much going on. Well, I guess there was the rodeo on Tuesday night. Yeah, you read right, Mr. Artsy-Fartsy, Smiths listening, left winger, shaved legged bicycle boy went to a rodeo.

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The Last Two

The promise I made to myself to get back into the routine of riding and writing was short-lived. The riding part held up, but I fell short with the writing. I got caught up in processing photos from last Thursday night’s Alma MTB Time Trial, riding, taking and processing my own photos from rides and a rainy Saturday hike. There was also some bitterness and depression, too many beers, and bidding farewell to my friend Mike at his memorial service on Sunday.

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Life at 12 MPH

Sunday morning I got up early to see Wifey and B off on their trip back to Pennsylvania. I’m not one to want to waste a perfectly good lazy Sunday morning, so I quickly returned to the Chamber of Farts to sleep for another hour as soon as the car was out of the drive.

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From Dirt to Dirt

After a lackluster blog post earlier Friday morning I scurried out onto the dirt roads for another short ride. The morning sun was hot as balls and I felt like a crispy honey baked ham after just two hours of riding.

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Easier Not Better

A little over a week ago, in the wake of my friend Mike’s passing, I contemplated ditching my bike completely. The prospect of riding my bike on roads and dealing with the ongoing losing battle that cyclists face with motorists was something that I wanted no part of, nor did I want my family to be part of it. Given my ever growing figure, surely I am now built better for such sports as poker, online gaming, and competitive masturbation, more than cycling, so saying fuck it and ordering a copy of The Idiot’s Guide to Poker was at the forefront of my mind. 1.

With the support of friends (some close, some via social media, and emails), I was encouraged to get back on the bike, and to not let the cars win the mental battle (we all know they’ll win the physical battle). As you may have seen in some previous posts, I did get back on the bike, and it was OK enough.

Since that last post, I am happy to say that getting out and riding has gotten easier, but not exactly better.

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Flowers & Bugs

After a very rainy and busy weekend, I looked forward to getting out on Monday morning for a quick ride. Mondays are by nature busy, but I needed some saddle time to blow the weekend slack off of me and burn some calories.

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Miles & Random Smut

I took the day off the bike on Thursday and headed down to the shop to fetch the PrOcal that was getting some wrench love. The day off also gave me a chance to rest my left calf which had been giving me some issues while riding. The rest of my Thursday free time was spent running errands and doing summertime dad stuff with B.

After that day of sloth, I was anxious to get back on the bike on Friday morning.

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Mind In, Body Out

I was proud of myself for getting up early to do some work on Wednesday so that I could get out for a ride before it got too warm and windy. Then just as I was filling my bottles I could hear the distant sound of thunder. Shit.

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A Steady Whirlwind

The past few days were a steady whirlwind of driving, soccer, more driving, visiting family, and more driving. Finally around 2 PM Monday my world calmed down, and around 4 PM the first of many beers were cracked as I mentally decompressed from it all.

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