Posts Tagged → unfunny commentary

I’m NOT homesick!

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I woke up today around 8 a.m. when Wifey came in the bedroom to fetch her eye glasses. I assumed she had been by my side all night, but it turns out she fled the room at some point, claiming that it got “too hot” in the bedroom. Since it was roughly -15˚ outside, I doubt that was true and this was most likely her way of telling me that the baked ziti I made for our Valentine’s Day celebration had taken the form of a vile, warm, humid gaseous cloud of digested red wine, garlic and sausage and had exited my flabby rears way too much though the night and had caused her to seek refuge elsewhere. Much apologies to my ginger haired, bosomy Valentine of what is now 20 years. You deserve better…much, much better. But I’m sure you know that already.

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Trainers, Spuds & Dogs

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My mid-winter blog posts generally fall into four possible topics: riding my fatty outside, cooking up grub, riding the trainer, or Jake (the dog). The first of those topics is only mildly interesting, even to my closest of friends and family (even that is a stretch). The other three topics could surely be left unwritten about by me, especially on what purports itself to be a cycling blog. Well, since I didn’t ride outside today, I figured, I’d go ahead and talk about all three of those other things. Like they say, if you throw enough shit (or in this case shitty blog topics) against a wall, something is bound to stick.

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Winter Shutdown

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I am forty-three years old. That means that I’m getting older, as well as saggier, fatter and harrier in all the wrong places. It also means that I have endured forty-three winters. I’m not sure how many wet, slush filled shoes, slips on ice, scraped car windows, shoveled driveways and bouts of uncontrollable cuss-filled shivering that adds up to, but I’m sure it’s a lot.

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My Voice

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After I write a blog post, in a crap attempt at proof reading to make sure it sounds even a little bit correct, I find myself reading it out loud. I hate doing that because I really hate my voice. If you’ve ever heard any of the XXC Magazine podcasts, you know exactly what I’m talking about. My voice sort of sounds like a pubescent teenage boy (or girl) with a twist of Quentin Tarantino and not one tiny ounce of the talent.

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Icy Roads & Lengthy Side Notes

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While much of the north-east is digging out from winter storm Scunthorpe or whatever this one’s called, we here in central Michiganderburgh have been snowless for roughly a week. It’s been cold, there’s no doubt about that, but it’s not been horrible and the sun has been out and that almost always makes moods better. While that makes for tolerable living, it also makes for a daily freeze thaw cycle that leaves the less traveled dirt roads glistening with ice, rutted snow and a few hoof prints.

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Pondering

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I recently rediscovered a book I got a couple of years ago and as is my want to do with so many books, never finished it. The book is The Lost Cyclist by David V. Herlihy. It’s the tale of Frank Lenz, a yinzer Pittsburgher, high wheeled bike racer and long distance cyclist who in the 1890s set out on his bike to travel around the world. Well, Franky went and got himself vanished during that tour and the The Lost Cyclist is the story his early high wheeled adventures, the dawn of the “safety bicycle” (a bike with inflatable tires), his attempt at riding around the world, mysterious disappearance and the subsequent search for him that ensued, lead by fellow cyclist and adventurer William Sachtleben.

I picked the book up again last night and nearly an hour later found myself super, mega, re-sucked in to it as Sachtleben tried to track down clues as to Lenz’s disappearance. I won’t go further into it in case yinz (my Pittsburgh is showing, sorry) want to read it, but I saw the above pic of Lenz just sittin’ and chillin’ during one of his rides and just loved the photo. It also ended up stirring up a few more thoughts…

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Off The Bike Intervals

Intervals. Man, NO one likes ’em. Especially fat, 43-year-old cyclists who aren’t really training for anything. The only reason I’ve rediscovered them at all is due to their ability to burn fat. Getting faster for the one to three races I now do each year is the least of my concerns…what’s the difference between 12th and 20th place in some vet class?

bellybeerfatdudeIntervals now (and not the 12 oz. sort) are all about trying to stay in the same sized clothing, preventing my belly from bouncing on my thighs when I ride, and burning off all those beers and cocktails I enjoyed over the past few weeks years.

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Holiday Penance

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Yesterday we had blue skies, bright sunshine and 35 degree temps here in Michiganderburgh, perfect for getting out to roll some dirt roads. Sadly I was on my last day of Christmas vacation dad duty and found myself spinning for an hour in the basement. Later I would watch Facebookers post photos from their rides, hating them all with the venom of a thousand cobras. Freaking status posting bike jerks!

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Crush Pasta V

 

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There was a tradition started long ago by someone, somewhere that says eating pork on New Year’s brings good luck (probably started by the pork people). I like good luck, but I’m not a huge fan of pork (roasts, etc.,), so I ventured as close as I really wanted to into the world of pork and made my Soiled Bolognese Sauce on New Year’s Day, which just so happens to include about a 1/2 pound of ground pork along with a 1/2 pound of ground chuck. Win.

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