This week has given me very little and in return I have given back even less. So far, aside from two trips to the gym (with varying results) and spending ten minutes on the stationary trainer before saying “fuck it, this is like the dumbest thing ever,” I have pretty much done nothing. And when I say “nothing,” I mean NOTHING. Well, unless standing at the back door and blindly staring out the window wondering what people with real lives are doing is something, but I am pretty sure that qualifies as nothing. I guess I could consult The Idiot’s Guide to Depressive Slack & Ennui for an official ruling, but I’m way too busy doing nothing .
I could go on about the life shit that has been mentally bringing me down, but I am trying to do less and less on here, so I’ll just stick with the simple facts like even though we have warmed up a little, the weather in still shit, cabin fever is at an all time high and I am sick of being cold and tip toeing on ice trying to avoid a broken pelvis.
On the brighter, cycling oriented side of the week (bare with me here, I am grasping at fucking straws), I am slowly working my way back to watching Pro road racing and enjoying it. I think it comes down to the fact that I find the Eurosport coverage is head and shoulders above what we normally see here in the U.S. and has even made watching, what I think is, a lackluster 2014 Paris-Nice route enjoyable. It’s been fun to chill out in the evening and watch each day’s stage.
OK, I’ve avoided bitching about my mental state (for the most part) and avoided too much would-be muscle-head type blathering about the gym and how I haven’t really got thinner or lost weight, but certain strength training exercises have yielded weight increases of over 50% since November, so I am gonna split while the splitting’s good.
By the way I am well aware that there is some feel-good life lesson metaphor type thing going on with the pics in this post, about how moose knuckled, skin-suited, battered and bloodied Nacer Bouhanni (FDJ.fr) crashed during Stage 1 of Paris-Nice and still clawed his way back to win the stage. However I am looking the other way and avoiding any talk of that until I win a race, get a job or leave the house for longer than two fucking hours.
Stage 4 and The Idiot’s Guide to Depressive Slack & Ennui beckon…
Top Photo: Original un-cropped photo via The Guardian, Michael Steele/Velo/Getty Images
Bottom photo: CyclingNews.com, Tim de Waele/TDW Sport