Tag Archives | feeling mental

Hyperbole and Birds

It’s April 17th, and we Michiganders remain slung over a barrel with our snow pants down to our ankles as the rhythmic slapping of relentless ice, snow, and wind continues.

B’s school is closed for the second day in a row, and I haven’t been in the saddle of my bike in 5 days. In fact, no stuff has been done in nearly 5 days: weights go unlifted, the treadmill remains stagnant, and the pedals of my trainer bike remain in the same position which I left them weeks months ago. Running shoes and hiking boots remain closeted, and my mind has deteriorated into a vile mushy substance usually scraped off the bottoms of shoes while muttering obscenities and trying not to inhale.

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April Fooled

Last Sunday was April 1st, is also known as April Fools Day. It was also a week ago and the last time the saggy lumps of flesh I call an ass hit the saddle of a bike; a cold morning ride that yielded a mere 20 miles and some crap photos.

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Varying Degrees

For me, this time of year between winter and actual spring is one of the worst times. It can often LOOK like it’s a beautiful spring day but upon leaving the house you quickly realize that it’s only 30˚ with a 20+ MPH wind which makes it feel like it’s 15˚ and despite the winter gear that you stuffed your muffin top into you want to turn around, head home and crawl into your still warm bed in the Chamber of Farts.

The “you” in the above scenario is, of course, me, and this happened to me on my rides on both Friday and Sunday and resulted in varying degrees of suck that left me wanting a new hobby that doesn’t require freezing my face off and uncontrollably cussing into the deafening wind like a Tourettes riddled fat man in a lycra sausage casing.

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Avoiding Flesh Stuffing

The past few days I have continued my ongoing silent protest of the relentless Michigan winter by refusing to stuff myself—and the 50 extra pounds of human flesh I haul around on my frame—into various layers of form-fitting gear in the name of a crap bike ride. Those 15 minutes of flesh stuffing can be used better by doing things like Googling an old Judas Priest song that popped up in a recent dream, watching pasta water boil, reheating leftover chili (so good!), staring blankly at the wall, taking photos of Jake (the dog), or waiting for beer to rapidly cool in the freezer while playing EA Sports FIFA 18.

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Not Half Good

The ass end of February/dick tip of March was semi-kind to me as far as getting outside to ride my bike. Sure, there was the minor schedule alteration due to an armed suspect at large in the area, a nice helping of psycho winds, and various dad duties to complete but as I’ve said before; at this time of year I am grateful for 1 ride a week and last I got 3! As a chubby, food loving, beer drinking, ex-crap amateur racer that only occasionally gives a shit about anything at all—let alone riding his bike—I’ll take that all day long! But then that ended.

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One Ain’t Bad

Last week started with about six or seven inches of snow and icy roads that forced schools to cancel. Somewhere in the middle of the week the temps warmed up towards 50˚ and the aforementioned snow all but melted. Then come to the end of the week the temps dropped again and froze the roads solid which aided me in finally getting out for a ride.

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Mental Enemas

Early parts of this week brought shit weather that included steady cold rains that made the dirt and gravel roads even more of a quagmire than they already were. This caused me to retreat to the Not So Stankment and time on the dreadmill and/or to The Chamber of Farts to climb under the covers and wish myself somewhere else.

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So it Begins

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).

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