Posts Tagged → sorry attempts at humor

No Cure For Stupid

introracedates

From my records (records = this crap blog) it seems that it’s been well over a year and a half since I lined up for a race. I’ve gone to races, photographed races, talked about races, wrote about races and peed in the woods at races, but somehow I’ve managed to avoid racing for 1 year, 8 months, 25 days and counting. During that time I’ve gained weight, rode less, then rode more, still gained weight, rode anyway ’cause that’s just what I do and all but forgot what it’s like to put out any sort of race day effort. So, it makes perfect sense that I signed up for the Fat Chance at Crystal Mountain this coming Saturday.

I’m a moron.

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Snirtishness

snirthed

Thursday morning after I got B off to school I found myself waffling on when and where to squeeze a ride in, or if I wanted to at all. I should really do that second strength training session of the week, and conditions aren’t that ideal right now with many of the snirt roads being covered with every imaginable form of winter: ice, snow, slush, mud, water, dead squirrels, etc., etc. But with rain in the forecast, which will undoubtedly make the dirt and snow (snirt) into miles and miles of gritty chilled diarrhea, I figured I’d better roll while the rolling’s good.

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What a Difference

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What a difference a week can make. Last week during our visit to Pennsylvania for the holiday it was 66˚. That’s not normal for PA, or anywhere in the north-east of the U.S., but I was loving every single whacked out degree above normal. Fast forward seven days and I’m back in Michigan and dealing with heavy, wet snow, slush and ice, and all the joyless activities that come with it: wearing ugly winter shoes, shoveling, back pain, slipping, sliding, scraping, having a mental breakdown because I can’t get the snowblower to start, breaking a snow shovel during said mental breakdown, having a friend point out that it’s a dirty spark plug preventing the snowblower from starting, using the snowblower, and knowingly and calmly accepting Wifey’s lecture to me where she points out that she loves me but it’s so not normal to have a complete breakdown and break a shovel (and maybe a piece of siding on the house) because a snowblower won’t start. Point taken.

But as they (mostly the U.S. Sweet Potato Council) say– at least we have sweet potatoes to bring love, peace and harmony to our lives…

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Debatably Better

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It’s been a week since the girth of my flabby ass cheeks rubbed up against a bike saddle. During that time I ate and drank a LOT. Ham, beef, potatoes, pizza, whole blocks of cheese, sweets, cookies, beer, and gin fueled cocktails all found their way into the muffin-like stomach that spills over my too tight jeans. I also spent nearly fourteen hours in the car driving to and from Pennsylvania for the Christmas holiday. I slept like shit, ate like shit, and I’ve felt like a fleshy turd mentally and physically over the past week.

Now back into the frigid bosom of Michigan, I was given the choice to either run on the treadmill in the Stankment® or head out into the crisp air and wind for a Better Than The Trainer Ride™ in an attempt to make a dent in all that flab. With Monday calling for freezing rain and sleet, I chose to ride and save the indoor miserableness for Monday.

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Blowing & Sucking

Wet and windy outside my box on wheels.

Wednesday night after I helped Wifey out with her strength training, I hung around in the Stankment™ to search through piles of bike crap for a saddle to put on my road bike, a bike which these days stays affixed to my trainer all year round and has been missing a saddle for the past eight months. Knowing that crap weather was fast approaching I searched, cussed, found and installed the saddle in preparation for another day hunkered down avoiding high winds and rain.

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As Expected

RainySaturday

Rainy Saturday. X-T10, 1/2000, ISO 6400

I woke up at 7:30 this morning; the late fall sun was just starting to think about thinking about rising to show off the dark gray of the day. I brushed my snags, washed my face, assessed the status of my numerous wrinkles, the severity of the bags under my eyes and headed downstairs to let Jake (the dog) out into the dark damp morning to do his thing. I thought about a cup of coffee but turned the TV on instead and saw that the footy didn’t kickoff until 10. Why am I up?

I went back to bed.

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I Guess Fall’s Here

falldirtRoadRide

Not sure when it happened, but it seems over the past few days fall arrived. Technically it’s been fall for a while now, but today was the first second ride that I’ve done that it actually felt like fall: leaves changing, cool gusting winds, crisp air, knee warmers, jacket, cap, etc., etc.,

Fall usually depresses me more than I already am, and this year is no different. Well, it’s a little different as I am putting my complete faith and belief in weather.com which says that the current El Niño will have Michiganderburgh dryer than usual this winter. You would think that someone who owns a fat bike would have hopes for snow, snow, snow and more snow. In my case you would be wrong, wrong, wrong and wrong again. I have no problem with not seeing another snow flake the rest of my life.

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