"Sufferfest"

Everyone in the local cycling community knows this man, right? He is as epic as the mountain range they named after him. Cycling is a family affair in his house. And look at that face... he always has that snarl on his face. He has shit-disturber written all over that look.

I happen to be employed at the same institution as him. I have coffee or lunch with him on a semi-regular basis and because our IQ's reach similar heights, the conversations always have staggering twists and turns with sharped-tongued flavour embedded within. It is entirely fate that brought us together as friends, though, because he works down testosterone ally and I work in the tower of power. We have a mutual friend that I knew from the gym who he used to work with directly and now, over 4 years later,  this "dude" in the picture and I are better friends than the original introduction might have predicted.

Yesterday we had coffee together and being he is probably the only person I know, and perhaps the only person in the universe, that I could have a conversation with that involved trying to complete the LA Times crossword (he knew answers like rebs and egocamp [WTF], and I got bologna -- he wins), discussing the magic of prime numbers, and George Orwell's 1984 (which I read in 1984), AND accuse me of being a bullshitter, all in a matter of 5 minutes.

I wish I was a bullshitter. I really wish some of the stories I could tell were actually bullshit. In fact, his favourite story about me is when he and the mutual friend we both know decided to tell me another guy in the office got fired and I believed it. Then the real fun started when I expressed my open opinion on that fact -- until of course I was told it was all BS -- then the joke was on me.

Damn my gullible-ness.

So we all know the pot was calling the kettle black on the account of being a Bullshitter.

Oh and he always manages to find a way to piss off my feminist sensibilities. He does it on purpose though so I still love him and I forgive him.

Anyways, our friend, so pictured above, in his characteristic cantankerous way, happened to comment that if he ever saw the word "sufferfest," again, in any blog it would will him to come out of blog commenting silence. So I informed him that I was happy to rise to that challenge. So he knows I'm going to write this. I doubt however that he realized HOW I was going to write it.

You see, his argument is that it isn't suffering if you are doing it by choice. 

Oh, and he also wants me to tell you he stole that from someone who knows true suffering and it isn't his own independent thought.

Did I paraphrase you right, sir?

Anyways, I adore this man, even if his son claims to have been "raised by savages" (it makes me belly laugh to think of that) and I thought I would grant him his 15 seconds of fame amongst the 5 people that actually look at my blog.

And if he invites you to his house this summer for a "hammerfest" -- it isn't what you think it is and you should tell him you're busy.

Are you for Riel?

Yes I am for Riel. But, that, my friends, is a really shitty time for a 100km, which was more than enough time and distance for me today and was the stop goal I had in mind when I started. But it was on a trainer so I will forgive myself. Or at least I will pretend that I spent the 100 km against the wind and gently uphill the whole way. Which my legs felt like I was from the first moment out of the hop.

The other actual goal was to stay aerobic because I need to do some serious fat burning to shed my waistline of it's winter insulation. I should start thinking about losing 5 or 8 (or 10) pounds before I have to climb Richter Pass in July.

The plan to stay in my aerobic zone worked well until Paul, our humble Are You for Riel host, and fellow Tribalistic teammate put in "Local Hero" the latest Sufferfest instalment, where I, Sufferlandian racer, had to chase down Fabian Cancellara in the the 2010 World Championship time trials (amongst other gem sprints from famous races past) - then it was bye-bye to aerobic zone for a little while.  Spartacus by-they-way, and by means of comparison, was able to pull off these max's in his recent TT in Oman... AND... he only came in 4th, thereby disappointing the world:

Stolen from Leopard Trek Facebook page. And, yes, that does say his max speed was 108km/hr.

Bye-bye to aerobic zone also meant bye-bye to my legs which were toast by 80km and the last 20 were the true "sufferfest" of the day. This, was thanks to a tough 2 hour bike yesterday at Pan Am Pool and me looking over at Jenn and announcing, "I'm going to stand for the last 10 minutes of tempo." Which made her say, "I'll do it too then." Which, of course, meant that I actually had to follow through with that. Me and my big mouth.

I really miss riding with people. These group rides seem to happen few and far between these days. I cherish them when they do, so thanks to Paul and the Wellness Institute for hosting a great (and cheap) event as always. Till next year.

Sex Sells ....

Got your attention? Naturally. I rode outside today and it was beautiful. It was warm and windy and it was coming from the south and I came home with mud caked in my hair. And I have NO pictures, which is really a good thing. Trust me. But damn I feel good.

Anyways I don't have the time to be all thoughtful and articulate in my blog these days but I can't resist tossing out these latest ads from Pearl Izumi. I tell ya. I'm ready to go shopping!

I can't tell if that's a beer-belly laden (laid-en?) guy with muscular legs at the front of the conga line or a pregnant woman. Thoughts?

And if you have a foot or shoe fetish, this is the one for you. 

Make of this what you will..... But it is definitely memorable.

Design me, Draw me, Ink me

The other day I went on a graphic image hunt on a mission to help out a friend who didn't ask for my help but got it unsolicited because I meddle like that, and in the process of that image hunt I came across this picture which made me *chuckle* because if I was to make an image to reflect the various dichotomous parts that are me, this would be as close as it comes.

Thank-you Google Images for guiding me to this picture and, most of all, thank you especially for falsely inflating my blog stats during this period of time when my blog lies quiet. There sure are a lot of people out there searching for "Walmart Bicycles" -- which, actually, kinda scares me more than a little bit.

And yes, my blog has been quiet. I am freakinunbelievablebusy right now and suffering a touch of SAD that January and February always seems to bring. I can't stand the thought of another cold day. I feel I will lose my mind. The good news is that I got my first sunburn today and my first sunglasses racoon eyes of the year. I've missed my racoon eyes. How I got these, I'll save for another post.

But speaking of images.....  I've mentioned before that 2011 is the year I turn:

40

Yes. It is true. In fact, we are just a little over two months away from the special day itself. And this January and February I have felt every second of my 40 years. Good thing, inside my head, I am still 18. 

But I digress as always. To mark this momentous occasion, my plan is Tattoo #2... yes, if you didn't already know, I have another already and I'm always happy to show it off, assuming I am dressed appropriately to do so. 

And, I need an artist and I'm slowly collecting referrals. So if you can suggest a good Tattoo artist. Please share. 

Good to Know

The new Trenta cup at Starbucks (Availability in Canada, unknown). Holds an entire bottle of wine!!