Posts Tagged → unsolicited opinion

Snirt Rollin’

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Thursday brought three ride options, four if you count riding the trainer in the Stankment™, which I’m not, ’cause that sucks:

1. Ride snow-covered dirt roads on the Fatterson with my camera.
2. Drive down to Alma and do some solo laps on the Fatterson.
3. Meet folks at 6 in Alma do some night laps on the Fatterson.

As you can see, the Fatterson was going to play a part in the day’s ride time festivities, it was just a matter of which one I picked. Part of me really wanted to do the Terry’s group ride, and I even went so far as to charge my lights the night before, but when push came to pedal I opted for the convenient and photo friendly snirt roads.

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Things I Don’t Do

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The other day while riding along talking with friends on the New Year’s Day group ride, many folks (myself included) were talking about how the dawn of the fat bike has made riding our trainers all but a thing of the past. So far this fall/early winter I have spent a whopping four minutes on the trainer. I tried, but I just couldn’t do it. When forced indoors for physical activities I’ve been more than content with running intervals and jogging on the treadmill and strength training. You just can’t beat the mental rub and a tug of riding your bike outside, no matter what the weather, and I wasn’t going to sully that feeling with time spent pedaling and going nowhere for no reason.

Then yesterday happened.

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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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In My Ears: Rozwell Kid

It’s been a while since I spewed forth notes from my musical manifesto, but I figured the holiday down time is a good time to waste time with nonsense about my band of the week/what I’m listening to at the moment.

These days–nine times out of ten–I am late to the party compared to modern-day hipsters. However as a forty-four year old living in a small town in the middle of rural Michigan who often leaves the house only to ride his bike, I’m just happy to get to the party at all, even if the trip to said party means wading through a sea of snarky “no one listens to them anymore” comments from people young enough to be my kid and wearing a slouchy ski cap in 75˚ temperatures.

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Broccoli & Barbells

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Part I, The Broccoli

Wednesday was a planned day off the bike to get some things done during the day (the least of which included washing two months worth of mud off the Boone) before heading into the Stankment™ to do some treadmill sprint intervals and strength training in the evening.

It was also my day to not eat leftovers and make myself something tasty for lunch. That something was one of my fave standbys: whole wheat pasta tossed with fresh, store-bought, not at all locally grown, non-organic broccoli, garlic and extra virgin olive oil.

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