The dictionary dictators amongst others define the word gobsmacked the following way…
1 ˈɡäbˌsmakt/
adjective BRITISH informal
adjective: gobsmacked
utterly astonished; astounded.
With reference to being shocked by a blow to the mouth, or to clapping a hand to one’s mouth in astonishment.
Not me, while I have no doubt that is the correct definition, I would amend it to include a second:
I mentioned a while back that I decided to not re-join the gym this fall and winter. One of the only reasons I went back to the gym last fall was to give myself something else to do besides sit and ride to nowhere on the stationary trainer during the winter. Well, once I got my (now sold) Pugsley late last January, I found it increasingly harder to go to the gym rather than ride my bike. Having a viable option to ride outside in the Michigan snow now made lifting weights seem just as stupid as it sounds… just when I started to see real progress and added strength.
For the past couple of weeks, winter has slowly been poking its frozen nose into mid-Michigan. Thankfully, there has been no long-term success. Successful or not, the past week was gray, cold and windy. Christ, I literally hadn’t seen the sun since late last Tuesday afternoon and it was so windy Friday that riding was made impossible, with winds gusting anywhere from 10 to 50+ MPH at times! I am pretty sure I saw a small child blow by the kitchen window at one point.
For the most part, the week was real warm bath and razor blade type weather, and the two days I was able to ride, it took every ounce of mental will power I had to force my jiggling muffin top out the door for a ride. It’s not that conditions were THAT bad, it’s that I am that mentally weak and apathetic.
The following is a Soiled Chamois “Halloween Special,” a slightly updated photo gallery/article that originally published in XXC Magazine No. 15. Some photos may be disturbing, reader discretion is advised.
I once again found the will to get out into the various shades of gray and fecal brown that make up the landscape of a late fall in Michigan to ride my bike for a bit. Today was pretty much the same sort of day as yesterday, except I went a mile or two longer and did a slightly different loop. A good loop, with some nice punchy climbs on loose sand and gravel, but sadly, it was a short loop.
I blathered at length yesterday about the Michigan gray and forcing myself to ride my bike when I would have rather been holed up in bed, snuggled up to the warm, ample bosoms of a red-headed Jezebel and an IV hooked up to a bottle of gin, so I will avoid doing so again today and just post some pics. The photos–like the cattle pic above–pretty much sum up any ride I do on the dirt roads around Michiganderburgh and what I encounter on my rides.
Some days time restraints, responsibilities and real life issues demand that a ride be short and to the point. And some days it’s just an overwhelming desire to be out in the chilly, depressing, gray, misty fall air for as little time as possible. Today was a mixture of both those things.
At some point during every one of my 22+ years as a cyclist, there has been one weekend in the fall that has me thinking “This just might be the last REALLY good ride weekend of the season.” This weekend was that weekend.
Fall continues to fall and I continue my best efforts to get out and ride when I can. Today I opted for another dirt road ride aboard the Farley fatty since that’s the bike that’s been the most fun to ride on the dirt roads lately. As I mentioned the other day, all I am really riding for now is to maintain enough fitness to do a few fat bike races this winter and to avoid becoming a complete slob (which some might say I am one meatball away from becoming).
After Saturday’s less than good ride at Hanson Hills, I found myself off the bike for two days. Family stuff, an away soccer match for B-Man and a doctor’s appointment, amongst other things, got in the way. Oh well, the only thing I’m “training” for right now is to not be the fattest guy on my block.
