Today I am jumping the gun on 2014 and sharing my New Year’s resolutions. Actually these are more like “life resolutions.” No, I am not going to say I won’t drink beer, swear, look at boobs (or butts) not belonging to Wifey or anything else so wildly over the top and drastic as that. Basically I am going to attempt to do two–somewhat attainable–things every day for the rest of my life (which I give another two years, tops):
The above A.P. photo of Vincenzo Nibali from Stage 20 of the 2013 Giro in NO way represents the “ride” I did today. However, the original photo by Fabio Ferrari (that I played around with) is pretty bad ass, but I digress and now move on to a blog post containing all the lackluster quality all four of my readers have come to expect…
A short post-holiday blog post.
Today, my family and I made it back into the 989 (the Mt. Peezy area of Michigan) after 4+ days in Western PA for the Christmas holiday. It feels good to be back home. While I wasn’t gone all that long, I was gone long enough to miss the shit out of Jake The Dog, get a snot-tastic head cold (which I am still rocking), get an idea of what most ‘mericans who don’t ride –or do ANYTHING–feel like, and realize that bitch Dorothy (of Dorothy’s Candies) is surely adding crack to her almond bark candy (I could have eaten a troff of it). I can not wait to get moving again, get a sweat on and burn off some of that almond bark, Luciano’s Pizza, ham and all that other calorically dense shit dick Christmas cheer off of me.
In the end it, the holiday was good. There were only a few awkward moments and only one gift (the BIG gift we gave B-Man) that turned out to be as useful as a shit covered paperweight and needed to be returned because Microsoft and anything associated with Microsoft sucks big giant hairy man balls. By the way, I know this is a very “first world problem” but it really does suck to see your kid go from so happy he’s crying to so sad he is just staring blankly at an expensive piece of Bill Gates’ shit, wondering what the fuck he is supposed to do with it. UG!
With that, tonight is about having a few beers, making up some of my white-trash Mexican food and maybe catching up with some 989 friends later. Tomorrow it will be off to ski or ride in shit weather. My regular knob-tastic blog posts will pick up from there.
Note: The above photo is a swank Duff Beer ornament that Wifey gave me (along with a couple good beers!).
Wow, what to say about the past week? We’ve had snow, ice, sleet, ice again and then more snow. All that was enough to close schools, make traveling treacherous at times and ruin the local cross-country skiing. At the same time in my soon to be returned to homeland of Western PA they had temps in the 60s and rain. At least I won’t feel homesick when we travel to WPA this week, since by Tuesday temps will be VERY Michigan-like. Brilliant.
Much of my “doing stuff” the last few days was ruined due to the ice and snow. BUT it was still an OK-ish time and I did get some time in on the trainer to burn some pre-Christmas calories. Too bad I put them all right back on by finding Founder’s Imperial Stout at the beer store on Saturday.
I will (most likely) be taking a break from blogging over the holiday week. I won’t be going to the gym, riding, skiing, cooking or drinking. Just vegetating and counting the minutes until I return home.
Many of my fellow Michigander-burgher-ites are without power due to all the snow, ice and wind. I hope that they all get their power back soon so as to enjoy the holiday.
Have a great holiday. Ride, hike, ski, walk, sit, drink, eat, have fun, vegetate, do whatever it is that makes you happy until we usher in the new year.
Merry Christmas, happy holidays, peace on earth, get the Led out, etc., etc., etc.,
This morning I found the above photo of Gianni Motta downing some pasta while racing, and I have to say it makes the perfect intro photo for today’s Cat 5 Cooking post on Spaghetti alla Puttanesca.
Spaghetti alla Puttanesca translates into “whore’s spaghetti ” or what my favorite voluptuous, turned thin(ish) recreational drug using celebrity chef Nigella Lawson calls “Slut’s Spaghetti.” I’m not real sure why slut is better than whore, but I digress. When a dish translates into a combination of pasta and whorism* I’m all in.
I’ve mentioned more than a few times that I have a road loop I call the Better Than The Trainer Ride. It’s just what the names says it is; a ride that is better than the trainer but not much more. It can clock in at between 22 and 25 miles and is used when time is tight or the weather looks shit. After my second ski of the winter I realized a loop around Deerfield Park is about the same thing. NOT a ride by any means but it gets about the same thing done
Today was another day on planet Hoth (AKA Michigan). Wind swept frozen snow and ice now covers everything and probably will until June. As per my standard operating procedure, I did not ride outside but did go to the gym for my cardio and strength training. It was pretty uneventful other than seeing one of the many characters I have come to encounter (or make up in my mind based on their appearance alone) each visit… today it was the Lesbian Mafioso.
Who is she? Hell, I don’t know, what I do know is that I spent my first few visits assuming she was a 50-year-old man. I’m not trying to be a dick or rude, I just thought she was a dude with a mullet and a track suit. Turns out he’s a woman, and from what I can tell, based on recently seeing her at the grocery store with her kids, NOT a lesbian (not that there’s anything wrong with that). I also have my doubts that she’s in the Mafia but if you don’t want to be stereotyped as such, don’t drive a Cadillac and wear track suits while looking like a high school gym teacher circa 1989. How do I creepily know so much about her? Easy, she pulled into the gym parking lot the same time I did one day driving a Cadillac and she always wears track suits.
All this makes me sound like I am nebby, prejudice, judgemental and homophobic doesn’t it? I swear, all this is in jest, not to mention if you would see her, you too would think that she’s a lesbian Good Fella. OK, forget all that, I am grasping at straws for something to write about. I guess I could talk about my past history of not doing stuff or not doing enough to make me a better bike rider or racer? OK, I will…
I’d like to say that I went on some badass, long winter ride today, but that would be total bullshit. I actually spent the day doing what any unemployed fuckwad would do; shoveling snow, taking Wifey’s car back to the mechanic, doing some grocery shopping, going to the gym and doing the family laundry. Life can end now… I’m sooo OK with that…
On the plus side, I took this photo of Jake The Dog through the glass of the back door as he looked up at me with his snow-covered mush saying “What the fuck dude? Let me in! It’s fucking cold out here!!”
Who knows what excitement tomorrow may hold for me!!
The trainer; instrument of physical and mental torture to some, hated by many. Me? I’m OK with it.
As you may or may not know, I hesitate to call my riding, time on the trainer and in the gym “training.” I suppose it sort of is, but I think of it more as “doing stuff” so as not to get even fatter… and an attempt to get back to just mildly embarrassing myself on the bike next season (oppose to completely embarrassing myself as I did in 2013). Having once again said that disclaimer of my slackness and douchery I can get to the post at hand…
