Enough is Enough.... Let's look at some Art

Enough is enough. Some of you may have liked it, but I could no longer stand to see picture of a volleyball chicks ass in my face when I opened my own blog so it was time to replace it with something else.

And, yes, I chose that picture purely for shock value. But now it shocks me, so I'm over it.

What you are looking at is the artwork hanging in my kitchen over my back door. I kinda like it. It came from a place called Earth Studio in Moab, Utah. Yes, Moab. Home of mountain biking utopia. I have never been there but there is this little thing called the internet. It's kinda addictive. You can search and find out anything you want to know and buy anything you want to buy.

Damn internet.

I guess the other thing I could update you on is the situation with my calves which I first reported on here. After a visit to the Sports Medicine clinic, X-rays of both my shins, and about 6 tubes of blood work -- which, by my recollection, is more tubes than I would typically draw on any ICU patient I ever looked after when I worked in ICU once upon a time -- I decided to try the one and only calf repair treatment I have never tried over the course of 2 years since this problems started.

I stopped running. For 3 weeks.

And then the coach asked me to try. So the day I had to go back to the clinic for the follow-up I hopped on the treadmill and waited for that typical 5 minute onset of stumpy legs. Five minutes came and went .... and then 10 and ....   then 15.  Nothing. I stopped at 15 minutes. There is no better cure for any problem than making an appointment with the doctor.

But maybe stopping running is all I needed to do. I'd never taken any time off before. I just pushed through the pain.

So I am going to start running again and build slowly like I just got off the couch from doing nothing for 10 years.

And once radiology took an expert look at my x-rays they did identify what was likely also an old stress fracture on my left shin. Go figure. I can't tell you when that would have been. I can vaguely remember some shin pain from about 5 years ago but I likely just bought new shoes and it went away. The pain I remember very much predates my crazy exercise addiction days. It also pre-dates my half marathon training days too.

And my blood work showed nothing abnormal except for elevated white blood cells which can be explained away by the fact that the day I had it drawn was also Day one of the flu from hell which made me feel like Death through most of the week before Christmas. First year in MANY..... MANY.... that I have not got a flu shot and I got the flu. Let this be a lesson to me. Karma.

So there you have it. And thanks for checking me out again. At least I no longer have to check out the bikini clad butt when I open my blog. If you miss her, just scroll a little further.

Butt Cleavage, Celebratory Beer, and a Touch of Academic Geekism

The secret signal is..... ??

I have to teach a new course starting in a couple of days. This is a course I picked up to help fund my expensive "biking habit." It's on women and health. And while I'm excited to do it, I'm terrified too. What exactly qualifies me to teach this course when the person who taught it before me is a world renowned expert on women and sexuality in cancer recovery? I'm just the schlumpy college instructor who happens to be a woman and has published one article associated with the subject. That article is the second thing that pops up in google when you type in my full name and the word "nursing." (Or, at least, today it did.)

If you happened to have imitated that google search you'll find, yes, I have an academic life. This explains why I frequently can flip into academic geek mode. I do it anywhere, including in the middle of a bike shop, as I did the other night when I stood around in my favourite bike shop (you know which) with my favourite bike boys and chatted about exercise addiction. This happened about 2 minutes after I brought them beer as a post Christmas and New Years "Thanks" and cracked jokes about girly drinks and whipping cream. So I can flip that switch into academic nerd pretty quickly, anywhere, with anyone, under any circumstances.

Live with it.

Exercise addiction in endurance athletes, if I may digress for a moment, is what I figure, once I get my ASS in gear -- or when someone pays for it, whichever comes first -- I will eventually do a PhD about. We talked about the depression that results when you stop exercising, even for a few days. The other part of the conversation was about that fine line you hover around knowing that you need to exercise to still be upright when you are 80 or 90 and the damage you cause to your body when you don't  [CAN'T] stop when you are injured.

Anyway, I geek out quite frequently in my blog too so if you don't like it, I suggest you stop reading right now because it's gonna get worse. But I'm drinking wine as I type tonight so, that might help a bit.

I also flipped into academic geek mode pretty easily here in the comments on this tongue-in-cheek blog entry. My new course has a pre-established assignment where they have to find an advertisement that focuses on something related to women's health (tampon, birth control, diet pills and plastic surgery ads are likely what I'll see a lot of) and the first advertisement that popped into my mind to use as an example was the one my friend the Cyclechick shared with us a couple months back.  Graciously she has allowed me to use that blog entry in my class as a fine example of how my students should be thinking when they look for their own ads.

Achhk. .... I made my point in the comments about how disgusting those ads are, you can go to the link and read them there. If you care.

Or even in nursing itself. This predates me, but nurses used to wear little white caps and white pressed uniforms and clean pantyhose and said things like "yes Doctor" while bowing and averting their eyes. Walk into a hospital today and see if you can tell the difference between the doctor or the nurse. Better yet, can you tell the difference between the nurse and the housekeeper?  Good luck.

Of course, I suggest, neither is a good image. So nurses still aren't getting it right.

But I could probably walk into my first class on Tuesday and spend the entire class ranting about the invisibility of women in sport. Yeah we gotta sex 'em up to get anyone who watches sport (meaning men) to pay attention.  Best example? Beach Volleyball. Show some cute ass and, still, no one notices we have some pretty fantastic female athletes out there, but some great butt crack goes on permanent record in our brains.

Go to google. Type in "beach volleyball images."  Ignore gender ......  or don't.... type in "men's beach volleyball" it is still 90% women in those pics.

You can't tell me that dressing like this helps their play when.......

.......when the men get to dress like this. 

And of course, heaven forbid women celebrate when we succeed. How un-female of us.

But you get that this is how women survive? We find a way to behave a little like men so we can at least feel we are on the same level. And then we get told we are not allowed to behave that way, because obviously, we don't do it right.

And if we can't feel like we are on the same level or get the same attention then let's take some clothes off and play on their sexual fantasies.

And I won't go any further than that. But I do have to THINK about these things in order to teach this course.

And feminism isn't about bra burning and man hating. I love men. I love them a little too much. I've done every naive, desperate, stupid, cliche thing in the book to get them to notice me.

But I do have to figure out a way to get a group of about 40 women to not automatically want to think of menopause as a disease -- the way the medical model does.

Tougher yet, I've gotta get their instructor to think that way as well.

Anyways. In other thoughts, I've considered quitting the whole blog thing. I'm writing but I'm not doing productive writing and I bet, if I printed out all the blogs I've done in the last year, that the page numbers would total greater than both my novels put together. And that excludes the pictures.

As well, it's January. I struggle enough to get through January without trying to find ways to be entertaining or academic or inspirational. Today I don't feel like being seen and would like to dig a huge hole and just crawl into it and stay there till spring. Just like the bears. I actually can't believe I'm bothering to write this at all.

But, as I've said, writing sustains me. And, believe it or not, this post was actually inspired by a Facebook friend who posts a lot of items related to the horrible abusive treatment that women face in war-torn Taliban ruled Afghanistan......... so we've got it pretty good.

But tomorrow is another day. And this women's course is going to consume me. So maybe you'll see me and maybe I'll take a break.

Time will tell.

I'm Only Really Happy When I'm Writing ......

A friend forwarded this article to me and it is so bloody good, I wish I had written it. It pretty much sums up (in a humorous way) exactly what is wrong with my writing life right now and probably explains to some degree why I'm not likely ever to become rich from writing.

Yesterday brought to the forefront of my mind the thought of -- not resolutions -- but goals for 2011. I'm going to write a post about that at some point in the future, but not today. I'm not ready.

It is a big year for me. I'm turning 40. I'm training harder than ever. I have a big biking event I signed up for that I've told a few friends (and the coach) about but haven't revealed to everyone else.

Soon. Soon. I'll write about it as soon as reality hits for me.

I would LOVE to make one of my goals for 2011 to write SOMETHING (short or long) that might be publishable, but the truth of the matter is that I don't at the moment feel that my heart or my mind, and for that matter, my desire, is in a place required to do that.

And frankly, I like these little short efforts I spew out in this blog. I especially like these little spontaneous ones that I spew out quickly because they come to me in a flash of inspiration.

Anyways, the article I linked says it far better than I ever could have dreamed. Enjoy.

The First Ride

It is a Frozen Wasteland this place we live in

I made a vow to myself at the end of the regular ride season that I was going to get on my bike outside at least once a week this winter.

That hasn't happened.  It is not ideal weather for skate skiing so the Training Plan said "60 minutes aerobic activity of choice" today so what better day than this New Year's Day to go for a snow ride. I have this little thing called Ice Donkey that I agreed to participate in after a few beer at an HHH Christmas party. Well the sign up has officially happened now and I'm honoured that my compatriots felt I was worthy of being asked to participate and I think it be good that I keep my winter riding legs in shape so that the the event doesn't feel like a total B-itch.

So I dressed appropriately (over dressed actually) and headed out into the -16 weather with 40km per hour NW winds which made it -28 with windchill. I rode from my house to THE park which is about 9 miles round trip, I think, if I recall from running it. Here are some of the things I saw along the way.

I look like I am about to head out and rob a bank. Orange jacket is a little conspicuous though.
It was the maiden voyage of the Oakley's.

One of the goals on the agenda was to check the one challenging part of my commuting route. It is a pretty low traffic route but there is one piece of it that is generally difficult to pass through in the winter. Last spring this section could have been described as sketchy at best. Doesn't look so bad this year. But I'm not sure if this is because they've ploughed it once or twice or if it is just my newly discovered bike handling skills that have altered my definition of "too difficult" to ride. This looks totally ridable now.

Locals, you know where I'm talking about right? (If you don't, the next pictures will serve as a further clue.) Does this path look better than normal this year?

I don't know what it is, but I actually find the graffiti fascinating and somewhat beautiful.

Who's the guy whose face is imprinted here?
No River Trail this far this year. I think last year it came up to this bridge.

It is like a subversive culture.

I hit the park next. It was against the wind the whole way there. Other than the fogging of the sunglasses it was fine though. I was sweating. I ended up in the formal gardens first. Just earlier this morning people ran scantily clad in minimalist clothing there. Always a good way to start the year. I've done it in the past. I opted to sleep in for this years Frozen Nipple. That last 200m would have been freaking frigid.

Mountain bike was bike of choice today. And NO I have not yet removed the pannier racks from the Golden Triangle. This is procrastination at its best. It requires I get out a screw driver.

Then I headed over to check out the the duck pond. Too cold for skating today I guess.

The future outcome of all the construction going on there. 

And then I headed home for a nice wind-assisted return trip. These gloves are awesome by the way. My hands were sweaty the whole ride.

Na-noo, Na-noo (Yeah, I just dated myself didn't I?)

Random thought: Does anyone actually obey these signs??

I took the bike path on the way home. I love trees. Something so peaceful about riding through trees.
Riding INTO trees, well that's another issue all together.

Got to check out up and close the skating rink they built in the park out the front of my house. 

So, there you go. I'm officially a "HARD" woman. Before today that was questionable. 

A 2010 Top 5 with a Bonus #6

It's been a pretty good year. It was punctuated with some shitty parts too, no doubt. Some REAL shitty parts. But it's December 31st and in the end, things are finishing on a higher note and the final balance weighs in favour of the GOOD rather than the EVIL. 

Since at this time of the year everyone seems to be popping off their top 5 something-or-other lists, I might as well be cliche and join the club. And this will come as a big surprise: 4/5 things are about biking. In Chronological order:

1. The Madone zone: 

Nothing can come between a girl and her bicycle. My mail-order husband -- ordered in January -- took all of about 3 weeks to come in. It was love at first sight. My love for my bike even inspired a shot gun wedding ceremony. I guess I gushed about my bike. A lot. Such is my way.  And now Mr. Madone, aka "Kermit" and I have been through many a trial together. Several thousand kilometres worth, through Kenora, Calgary, Canmore, he even kept me hanging on the back in the South of Manitoba for that sub-6 200 km.  Nope, I didn't have anything to do with all that. It was all the bike. There was one frightening moment when he refused to get on the airplane in Phoenix and went galavanting without me for two days. I wondered if I would ever see him again. But all's well that ends well, as the bard once said. It has been a happy relationship and I look forward to many more years of ride and rider. 

2. Mount Lemmon:

On the list of the top 50 rides to do before you die, I have one checkmark. "Mount Lemmon is like dying. It's just something you have to do alone." The whole Tucson trip in itself was fabulous. It feels like it was a million years ago and belongs in another lifetime. It practically does belong to another lifetime. I'm not sure what moment lives more special in my mind: Steak done to perfection at the Hacienda del Sol; Lasagna a la Krauss at the Ranch; or guzzling mountain run-off at mile 16 on Mt. Lemmon. Best tasting water, EVER, and thankfully, on that day, free of parasites. 

Michael Krauss points out Mt. Lemmon in the background. Me, Jim, Sean.

3. A Reuniting:

Of all things ridiculous about Facebook, once and a while it pulls out a miracle. (Yes, I am on there too much and I'm not leaving -- although one day, if I ever get a life, I will be on there LESS.) I got a friend request back sometime in June or July from the guy I would describe as one of my "first loves." I fell in love with bike boys at the age of 15 because of this guy.  It has been fun re-getting to know Dean these last few months. He lives far away but we've had some good chats and one brief visit at the end of August. I think I've inspired him to get back on a bike after about 8 years away. Dean, I can't wait for you to drop my ass flat next year with us both on road bikes. Can't wait. It's good to have you back in my life. 

4. The Golden Triangle:

The most beautiful, the most painful, the most soul cleansing ride of my life. It expanded my lungs and the size of my rib cage. It claimed both my legs as a victim and at certain moments, it claimed my sanity too. It also claimed my phone. Oh well, I got a new one. Guy and Wayne were good company and good sports to allow me to butt in on their male bonding ride. What can I say. Everything about that entire time I spent out West in Calgary and the highways of Banff, Yoho, and Kootanay National Parks was about peace and contentment. A much needed way to end the training season and move on to the season of fun. 

5. Cyclocross Everything:

When I showed up at Menno Cross barely knowing, the two weeks before, that cyclocross existed, I had no idea it would quickly become the love affair of the year. There I was, loaner bike in hand -- a bike I thought I'd have for ONE race only, but thanks to some clever race avoidance tactics by my bicycle benefactor, turned into a season long affair. I had no mount or dismount skills (Cross labs? When were those?) and about to navigate mud puddles and bunkers and rock beds. If you check out the link to Menno, there is a short video of the race and a nice shot of me doing some sketchy riding through a puddle (depths and bottom condition unknown). I'm the one covered in mud in case you don't recognize me right away. It was riding like I had never seen before. I couldn't wait till that bloody race was OVER and then when it WAS over I couldn't wait to go again. And go again I did, six more times, and each was better than the last. And the post pain amnesia set in faster and faster. I saw my life flash before my eyes on the hilly beast out in Altona -- I carried that fear with me all the way through the Whittier race. It didn't leave until I raced incognito and in the mud once again out at Harbour View. I was just finding my cross legs by Provincials and then it was done. I can't wait to go again. When's the next race? When is it? Huh? Huh? When? What do you mean I HAVE TO WAIT!?

And a bonus:

And this one isn't about me. It's just something that puts a smile on my face and gives me hope. My friend Terri, I would have to say outdoes, even me, in terms of the amount of time she's spent in the land of the cynics when it comes to relationships. I've never in my life heard anyone come up with more excuses to avoid relationships than this girl. And in all fairness, she has some pretty good reasons to be avoidant. So good, in fact, that she has said to me recently upon reading my admission that I steal from my friends lives when I write fiction, that she fully expects me to steal from hers one day and maybe she should STOP telling me crap....... then I reminded her that I steal but I also F&*K with it (you know, remove all the serial numbers, give it an new paint job, and crap like that) so she'll likely never even realize. 

I almost didn't send the message I sent. You know that message Terri? The one I sent asking you who the heck that Darryl guy was who was always flirting with you incessantly all over your facebook status comments?  Yes that one. I almost didn't send it because I had given up asking Terri such questions because her excuses were so LAME that I didn't want to hear another. 

Her reply was: "Darryl is the ex that I shouldn't have chased away. But just friends. And soulmates. But friends. :)"

[That's a cut and paste job, by the way. So no f'ing with Terri's life there.]

"Soulmates."

"Just friends."

That doesn't even MAKE ANY F'ING SENSE, TERRI!

That was my internal reaction. I was much politer in my message back. To make a long story short it was a faith issue, really. Faith is really important to Terri. So not really knowing what it meant to "have faith" (I'm the one, you know, when I step into a church the walls start caving in around me and lighting bolts of death start shooting from the sky -- that's a genetic problem by the way. My father has the same problem) I asked a few key questions and made Terri think about what that meant. What does it REALLY mean to have faith in God? And how do you know -- how DO you know -- that just because someone doesn't buy into organized religion that they don't have FAITH?

Anyways, it was a naive question and a very philosophical conversation ensued and Terri gave Darryl a chance and I'd like to think I had something to do with that maybe? No? For the most part things were already tumbling down that inevitable path for Terri anyway. But it is true that other people's relationships are clearly viewed with happy endings all in place in my crystal ball. It's my own relationships that are confused jumbled blurry messes. 

Terri is a really happy woman right now and I, in turn, am very happy for her. Good thing there are do-overs in love. Sometimes. 

Oh well, for me there is always 2011.

It's been a good year. I have plans for next year. They are shaping up nicely.

Happy New Year everyone. Thanks for reading. Now please be entertained by evidence of my lack of a life by a handpicked selection of a year of Facebook status's. 

They're Looking at Your Socks

You think they're not looking at your socks? he asked. I nodded gravely. They're looking at your socks, we said in unison. 

That's a quote from one of my favourite books, A Complicated Kindness, by Miriam Toews.

And, of course, I'm NOT writing about socks. I'm never just writing about what it appears I'm writing about. I told you that already.

The quote reminds me a little of how I feel about blogging some days. You never really know who's looking or what secret thoughts they are having about your "socks."

I think I am fairly safe in saying that all of us who write blogs have a little nagging wonder about who the hell is reading our crap spewings anyway. No?

Which makes me wonder, why the hell do I do this anyway? Why do I put myself out there like this? It is a full-on public forum after all. Anyone can look. Blogging is like literary voyeurism. Well, except without the sex part....

......Maybe.

Or maybe blogging is actually literary exhibitionism? Get a little half-undressed in public and see if anyone notices?

I've been thinking about this a lot lately as it has come more and more into my awareness that people are actually reading this garbage. I started my blog as a way of dealing with my my post-divorce identity (still haven't figured that out yet) and perhaps with the hope of having others read and say, "Yeah, I've been there too."

I actually own this magnet. Fitting. Or at least, at one time, it was.

And occasionally people take the time to tell me they relate to what I say.  I've had some really nice emails from people saying some really serious things that they wouldn't dare say publicly in a comment where they would prefer to maintain a persona of "light and fluffy" (I've done the same, by the way).

I end up writing about biking a lot because that's what I use to distract myself from the sucky parts of life. So I write about two very different things with likely two very different audiences (touch of overlap here and there maybe??). I don't know. I never thought anyone would ACTUALLY read.  I just kinda hoped they might.

I've thought about separating the subjects into two different blogs but . . . . . .  I don't really want to.

And I'm pretty reflective and serious at moments in this forum. It's really hard to write funny and fluffy, as I recently discovered, so I don't try often. I get a far bigger kick out of ironic humour than HA-HA humour, anyhow. I'll happily comment light and fluffy on your blog though, although even then I'm usually holding back and trying to masque how deeply, DEEPLY, penetrated my mind is in the gutter. The real-life me is famous for cracking some inappropriate black-humored or off-coloured joke at exactly the wrong moment.

Or maybe the "real-life" me just says what everyone else is thinking?

Anyways. In terms of the biking crap, sometimes I feel I write about biking from the perspective of someone who's walked into the room half way through the conversation and is trying to sound like an authority. I really don't know what the hell I'm talking about because I don't know the history. I'll probably write excitedly about something because I've just discovered it, in the meantime all the veterans are rolling their eyes at my "old news."

Just humour me, 'kay. I'll grow up eventually.

Mostly, though, I blog because I like to write. I'm a pretty good writer, I think. Although my style may not be for everyone. I just like to write about what is burning a fire in my gut at the moment.

And RANT a little.

Or A LOT.

But given that writing kinda sustains me, I end up feeling pretty vulnerable about anything I spew out. That's hard for me to deal with some days.

Literary exhibitionism. Hmmmmm. Notice I said "half-undressed" above, eh. It's always most exciting the moment before the last item comes off.

Maybe I'm just intimidated by all my more experienced biker blogging friends who I have come to revere and feel inspired by and I think DO know what they are talking about?

Maybe I should just stop obsessing about the whole damn thing?

It's a chicken or egg, kinda thing isn't it? Do I write because I over think? Or do I over think because I write?

Meh. Mostly I write for me.

Gearhead

I lifted the photo from the ProBikeKit Facebook page. It is a nice little piece of art in addition to being a schooling for me.  I've already talked about how useless I am when it comes to bike components so that even simple things like knowing how aggressive I can get with those components when cleaning my bikes makes me nervous.

The other day a friend, who I know reads my blog, forwarded me this link about how to clean your bike in 10 minutes from Bicycling Magazine -- the mag for everything a lay person (and mechanical idiot) should want or need to know about biking, or so you would think. I scanned it with interest until point #4 which told me to "remove rear derailleur housing" and then I was done with that article because that was the most useless thing you could ask me to do. I'd have to stare at my bike for about 10 minutes just to figure out what might be the "derailleur housing." The bike still wouldn't get clean.

Actually I could stare at my bike all day and still not know what that is exactly.

I get a little better every year though so I will get there. I listen. I learn. I take people's unsolicited advice -- usually. The understanding isn't instantaneous and I don't know what I don't know so I fail to ask questions that I probably should. I'm a strong believer in learning from my own mistakes. I ended up with a bike too big for me because I didn't know what to ask. I loved that Devinci. It was pretty and orange and I wanted it and they didn't have a size small. So I was sat on a medium (not at Alter but at another bike shop in the city -- also a good bike shop) and told to put my hands on the drops, bend my elbows 90 degrees and, could I see the hub?

Uh, No. I said. I didn't know what "the hub" was, at the time. I thought "the hub" was something other than what it really was.

OK, then it fits. I was told. Well, it didn't really fit I quickly discovered. Lesson learnt. But what did I know. Nothing.

When I was going through the experience of creating my Project ONE a year ago, I had test rode another slightly lower model Madone that was in the store and Dave told me I would have basically two choices of shifting systems that would fit best with my price range Ultegra or SRAM. And he did his best to explain the difference to me and I'm sure I stood there blinking with big eyes and a "deer in the headlights look." A look, I am sure, Dave is very familiar with by now, coming from me -- it doesn't stop him from at least trying to teach me, though.

Although not long ago I went in the store to get chain lube (owned bikes for 2.5 years, I just bought my own chain lube .....sad...sad....) and he says to me, "You want a low viscosity lube?"

ME: I don't know. Sure?

HIM: Yes, yes you do.

ME: Whatever you say.

And that is kind of a standard bike shop visit for me.

But I digress from my shifting story......

So I mocked up my Project ONE and emailed it off to Dave with the explanation that I was counting on him to tell me if I was making any bad choices. I chose Ultegra, I guess, (Ultegra SL, apparently -- whatever that means) and that's what I have. I'd never tried SRAM at that time and I guess I gravitated to the familiar, and a lower price tag, but I have tried SRAM now and if I could go back and do it again, I would pick that instead. That's about the only thing I would change of the choices I made in ignorance a year ago. I was trying to keep costs down because, as it was, I spent about $1000 more than I intended to.

But it's all just a matter of preference, I suppose. The Ultegra is fine, actually. It's great. I haven't had a single problem with it. I had Shimano 105 before that and it was constantly causing me trouble.

So imagine how lost I am feeling right now knowing that the next time I make a big bike related toy purchase it will be wheels -- which is item #2 on Kim's covet list. I had considered getting race wheels when I originally built my Madone but, again, the costs were already mounting so I opted to just wait.

So I'm thinking about wheels now and I should be doing some research but I don't even know what to research. I'm trying not to have a price tag in my head because I know I'll throw the price tag out the window if I find something I like the "idea" of. I can tell you that I'm not spending $4000 --- $1000 is probably a more reasonable estimate. I said I wanted wheels that were, at the very least, no heavier than what I presently have on the bike. Dave said that would be pretty hard to do because the wheels on my bike now are pretty good wheels.

I'll take his word for it. I have no idea what makes a "pretty good wheel." These are kinda nice looking though (and probably way out of my price range):

Stolen from the Bicycling Facebook Fan Page. Facebook usually isn't good for much more than telling me that everyone is sick right now and getting ready for Christmas, but it does feed me lots of cycling news. 

So I don't know. There is another part of me that says forget getting wheels and go on a trip or something. What do I really NEED them for? Am I even competitive enough to need that? And with all the damn crosswind in this province will they be helpful? I don't know.

So if anyone wants to feed me information about "what I don't know about wheels, etc," feel free. I'll listen. Email me if you'd rather.

I must buy a cyclocross bike for next year and that really is a bigger priority. I suppose I have a few connections that might lend me wheels for the couple important times I might want them.

I never thought I would turn into someone who contemplated this kind of thing. It's only a matter of time before I insist on having a dual suspension mountain bike too so.......... But I'm hoping to be able to wait until one my kids can ride my present mountain bike for that.

Never ending money hole this biking thing is.

But you can't put a price tag on love or freedom.