2018 has arrived. Great.
I like to believe that a new year is a catalyst for change, but I am a realist (that’s code for pessimist) and greet the new year with as much enthusiasm as getting French kissed by your great aunt (the one with the perfume that smells like Febreze, sagging bosoms, and a beard).
Never has so much nothing been done in a week filled with so much.
Back in early 2017 I had a doctor’s appointment in which I was encouraged to think about losing a few pounds. In turn, I cut back my liquid calories (beer), tried to control my portion sizes, upped my mileage on the bike, and flirted with the goal of 5,000 miles by January 1, 2018. That resulted in losing almost 15 pounds by my next visit in early May. I was stoked, at least for a little while.
Finding time to blather on about shit here is not something that I have ever had trouble with. Even back in the days of working a “real” full-time job at the paper (then busting my ass to publish XXC Mag), “racing,” and “training” for said “racing” all while helping to raise a young son, I somehow found time to publish this dross.
As your luck would have it, these days, I often find myself opting to spend my spare time processing the pics I’ve taken, having a few beers and watching soccer, or practicing my dance of seduction to woo Wifey into fighting crime with me. Let’s just say I spend a lot of time watching soccer, drinking beer, and processing photos. Anyway…
IT’S NOT FALL!! Well, at least not technically, but it’s starting to look like it. Shit.
Time for another Soiled Chamois Mega Post, a post in where I post a bunch of photos and attempt to play catch up with my cycling, and non-cycling, life.
After a dismal start to the week, I ended with four (mostly) gravel rides in a row Wednesday through Saturday, hitting roads south, north, south, and then north again. You would think spending nearly 8 hours on the bike over four days would yield some big miles, well, you would be wrong!
I recently went on a five-day stretch without riding and to be completely honest I really didn’t miss it, until I did.
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.
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.
