Posts Tagged → not doing stuff

The Waste of a Week

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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.

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The Crud

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Last night, right after I hit the publish button on what will surely be known as the most widely unread blog post in Soiled Chamois history, I popped my normal shot of ZzzQuil and headed up to The Chamber of Farts that is my bedroom. An hour or so later I was still awake; I tossed, I turned, I coughed, I was hot, I was cold, I was sweating, I coughed again. “Wait, why do I keep coughing?” I thought to myself. Then it hit me…. I’m getting sick… I’ve got the crud! OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

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Crush Pasta IV

Last week I made some pasta with (jarred) marinara sauce and homemade meatballs. As soon as I started eating it I found myself on my knees shaking my fork towards the food gods above, cursing them for letting me make pasta and jarred red sauce. Almost every time I eat it I end thinking it’s too salty and an evil bout of indigestion will be waiting for me within minutes of finishing. The only red pasta sauce I REALLY like these days is my homemade Bolognese sauce. With that said, I was in the mood for pasta today and remembered a recipe I made once last year that was pretty darn good and avoids straight up red sauce.

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That Sort of Day

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Yesterday was my typical and not-so typical Monday. Typically, I was super busy with stuff through the day but oddly enough, in the evening I found myself out at a local watering hole with a couple of friends. Believe me, that is NOT a typical Monday evening for me, but Wifey was throwing a “welcome party” (I had to Google that) for a woman she works with that just adopted a little boy and wanted me out of house, as was going to be overrun with lady folk, and she was pretty sure I would just sit around farting and burping while they were here. As luck would have it, a couple of my college teaching friends were up for going out since their students are doing nothing but taking finals right now and they can goof off a bit.

So, I was able to waste a couple of hours, catch up with some friends and drink a few good beers on Monday night. An unusual Monday night for me, but fun nonetheless.

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A Studded Bubba Ramble

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Up until today, the week has not gone according to plan as far as doing stuff. Monday is always a crapshoot on whether I can get out and this Monday didn’t really cooperate, it was the crap part of the crapshoot. On Tuesday we got hit with some lake effect snow and strong winds so I thought it best to stay off the roads with visibility so low. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it was west of Mt. Peezy but it snowing and blowing hard nonetheless.

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Snirty Sanchez

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Make no mistake about it, I hate winter. I hate the grey skies, the ice, slush, snow and cold, damn I hate the cold! And don’t even get me started on the ball suck holidays like Christmas and New Years that are thrown into the winter mix; I hate it all. BUT, winter is indeed here and the snow that has been coming down the past couple of days was a sure indication of that. When I woke up this morning and saw that snow that was covering the roads and ground I thought today just might be perfect for getting out on the dirt roads for a ride. I was only half right, which is only slightly better than being half wrong.

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Doing Stuff in the Gray

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I often use the phrase “doing stuff” here on the blog, for those who don’t know, that’s my code for working out or riding my bike. Some folks call it training, and there was a time when I too called it that too, but since my days spent unsuccessfully racing my bike are all but over–save for a few races here and there–I just like to say doing stuff.

With that unneeded explanation out of the way, last week I got in some above average hours of doing stuff; roughly seven hours spent rambling around Michiganderburgh dirt roads on the Farley (that doubles as strength training) and two hours of sweating as I lumbered like a handicapped oxen on the treadmill. Along with that I have embraced my old diet ways of eating low fat and clean during the week and doing as best I can on the weekends. ‘Cause really, if I can’t have beers and maybe some pizza on the weekend, what the hell is life good for? Wow, I’m off track… Anyway, I had a good week, I was feeling good and after taking Sunday off, I hoped to pick back up again on Monday; I didn’t.

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We are all Individuals!

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We are all individuals! But are we allowed to be?

Lately I have been thinking a lot about individuality and its place within cycling and bike racing. It’s a strange beast, especially for someone like myself, who more often than not, feels like he just doesn’t belong to any real part of cycling culture. That’s OK, I mean I’m talking about cycling, if one wants to “fit in,” there are plenty of other hobbies and lifestyles to choose from in modern-day society.

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Cold, Fat & Dirty

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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.

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