I’m going to stop racing my bike.
Gonna take up shopping at Wal-Mart and eating lots of food that’s bad for me. I want to contribute to the demise of myself and the planet at the same time.
Time to cash in and start living the good life.
All you hipster, bike racing, croc-wearing greenies can stuff it.
Always writing about bike racing is pretty fucking gay, so…
There is just something so special about a Charms blow pop. It’s become a guilty pleasure of mine lately. They have a bowl of them at the front desk, here at my place of employment.
The candy shell is like no other lollypop. It has a very tart flavor that beckons even more salivation with which to dissolve said confectionary treat. So, that cycle continues until you get to the substandard bubble gum core, which, upon chewing, holds it’s flavor for about 3 minutes, until the wad turns to the consistency of a piece of tree bark.
I also like Starbursts. I guess those waxy squares remind me of when I was kid, and always thought eating candles might be good. The same kid liked to eat freshly-mixed plaster of paris.
Gummy bears are pretty tastey too. Gotta love that beef-bone gelatin!
Ow, just got back from a short run!
OK, I got killed in the heat on Saturday, in the B race. 20 minutes in I knew I was just done - was reduced to soft pedaling and trying not to pass out from heat stroke. Remind me to not ever race cross again if it’s over 83 degrees out. Dehydrated, dejected, disillusioned.
Next day was much better up at Pinelands, about 20 degrees cooler in the Elite Masters race. I felt 100x better and was laying down some good power and rode technically flawless. I duked it out with my team mate Matt H. the entire race - gapped him a bit on the last lap to finish 9th. Whatever - I’ll take it. I could see the front of the race a lot of the time, which is good for me. Kevin Hines got a flat and then went on a serious rampage.
Better race report for this up on the BIKEMAN site soon, I promise.
Big week coming up!
Just because you own a cyclocross bike and enter all the local B masters races, it doesn’t automatically mean you’ve ever been to Belgium or can speak Flemish.
So please, for the love of all things holy, you can stop with apeing Benelux culture. Waffles and chocolate, drinking abbey beers, wearing stupid scarves, and the Lion of Flanders have nothing to do with riding your bike around a muddy field in New England.
So just stop, and please concentrate a little bit more on training and a little less obsessing over Fritas or which goofy outfit to wear for spectating at nationals on your stupid fuckin’ blogs.
