The photo above in an overexposed, misfired shot taken a couple of weeks ago while riding at Hanson. I ended up liking the pic for some reason and posted it on my Instagram page, then sort of forgot about it until today when I decided to use it to help sum up my past four days. Sort of the whole best intentions, crap results, take the lemons life gave you, trade them for limes and (literally) make several gin and tonics.
Over the past twenty-plus years or so I’ve made my way from being an obese 300 pound tub-o’-goo, to a pretty fit 170 pound, unsuccessful amature endurance mountain bike racer, to a 200+ pound, craft beer drinking, white-trash Mexican food eating, not so skinny cyclist just trying to stay in shape. During that time I’ve missed my share of workouts and rides. No big deal, we all miss workouts or rides for one reason or another: work, school, family commitments, illness, or the occasional bout of “fuck it.”
However, given my increasing paunch and ever slowing speed on the bike, along with life’s normal interferences, it’s pretty obvious that I miss more than my fair share of rides due to a lengthening list of crap excuses: it’s raining, it’s too muddy, cold, windy, foggy or hot. I have indigestion, severe manscape irritation, hot Mexican salsa bung, I just did a long ride (last week), I sort of have a headache, etc., etc.,
I had planned to head up north bit and roll some fat bike trails today, but the 0˚ temperature and windchill warnings made me think otherwise, as did and the work I had remaining on my kitchen ceiling, I’m, finally fixing a hole and some cracks after an upstairs leak last year. So I rolled an hour on the trainer, and made my third trip to Home Depot in as many days before setting about on getting my DIY on.
While I was there I finally picked up the supplies I needed to set about making a small ghetto light rig for taking photos of things like eBayable items, products and/or food photos. Mostly for the food photos I use in the crap nonsense posts I call Cat 5 Cooking (not to be confused with all the other crap posts, including this one).
Keep the following in mind: I KNOW this has little to nothing to do with cycling and this is a cycling blog. I do NOT consider myself a photographer (just someone who likes to take photos) and all the photos were taken with my new Nikon D3200 camera, which I am still learning (especially finding f-stop joy with the newly acquired Nikkor 35mm f/1.8 lens used here). This post is mainly about lighting, not the quality of the photos, subject, etc., etc., Thanks.
There was a tradition started long ago by someone, somewhere that says eating pork on New Year’s brings good luck (probably started by the pork people). I like good luck, but I’m not a huge fan of pork (roasts, etc.,), so I ventured as close as I really wanted to into the world of pork and made my Soiled Bolognese Sauce on New Year’s Day, which just so happens to include about a 1/2 pound of ground pork along with a 1/2 pound of ground chuck. Win.
The past week was its normal whirlwind of December holiday madness: travel, no riding, family visits, eating, weight gain, gift giving, gift receiving, more eating, occasional vomitorium visits (followed by quick weight loss), Boxing Day footy watching, a dash of stress, mild boredom, more weight gain, and lastly more travel (to which I set a personal record, making it from Pittsburgh to Mt. Peezy in 6:01, crushing my old record by 14 minutes!).
I always bitch about the holidays (mostly because I loathe them like an annual bout of gonorrhea), but every year they turn out pretty darn OK. Every year I look up at the faces I grew up with and those who helped create me, as well as the family I married into and realize that like it, love it, or not, these are the people in my world. Like they say, you can pick your friends but you can’t pick your family. Despite all the differences that we choose not to really get into and are content to leave hovering on the surface of our mental skins like infected spider bites, they are good people. There are lots of folks out there with worse problems, that’s for good-Goddamn sure.
Going on a blog break until after the Christmas holiday. Normal crap blogging will resume next week. I’m sure I’ll be sharing my own brand of holiday misery cheer on the Twitters and the Instagrams during that time.
Have a swell holiday.
Later.
After 3.5 days of being ill, it was so awesome to wake up on Friday morning and not feel like I’d been drug through the street by a group of angry Stevie Wonder fans. It was even nicer to get me and my Goblin-ish chins and belly on the treadmill for a three-mile lumber, and nicer still to get out for a quick but satisfying 1:45 ramble on Michiganderburgh dirt roads via the Farley on Saturday. But…
Sometimes to stop something from driving you insane, you have to share it with someone. Since the therapist that I never really got around to making an appointment with–even though Wifey, my family, PCP and local law enforcement think I did–is off doing whatever nonexistent therapists do (I assume listening to NPR friendly Spanish guitar music whilst cutting the address boxes off covers of waiting room bound volumes of Architectural Digest), I will just share my thoughts with the Interwebosphere: Stevie Wonder is a prick!! Here’s why…
The photo above is not from today, nor are the ones below. They could’ve been from today, but they’re not, they’re from a week or two ago when I was rolling dirt roads and shooting film with the Holga 135. One reason they could’ve been from today is because the sun FINALLY showed its face here in mid-Michiganderburgh again! Lord Jesus! But the main reason they’re not from today is because sadly, I did not ride. Boo!
I had high-ish hopes for riding this week, especially with most of next week being occupied by Christmas travels and festivities madness. Unfortunately I came down with some sort of flu-like crud on Monday night and most of my time over the past few days has been spent coughing under several layers of blankets in the stinky confines of the Chamber of Farts. With that said, I haven’t been on the bike since last Sunday and I am starting to feel like I have a giant, cottage cheese filled ball sack for a chin and an extruded stomach that bounces and sways when I walk. In other words, I feel like the Great Goblin from the Hobbit.
