Protect your junk.

Mensa International

I had an awesome hour long ride this morning. To start my ride, I had one of the most amazing conversations I've had in quite some time. One of those where you're the smartest guy in the room (or in this case, the Kennesaw Mtn. parking lot). And that doesn't happen very often in my world. It was between me and some guy, and it went something like this:

Some guy: Hey, how long are you riding today?

Me: Not very long...maybe an hour or so.

Some guy: How far do you go in an hour?

Me: Not very far...probably about 15 miles.

Some guy: Wow...what is that...about 30 miles an hour?

Me: No, it's a little closer to 15 miles an hour.

Some guy: I thought it was closer to 30 miles an hour.

Me: Yeah, I could see that...but no. It's about 15 miles...in one hour. Which pencils out to roughly 15 miles an hour.

Some guy: Ok, have a good ride.

Me: Thanks.

For all my satisfaction in outwitting the poor fella in the parking lot, things turned south on me in a hurry. Everything was all nice and sunny at the base of the mountain, but unbeknownst to me there was an arctic monsoon going on at the top. Trashman-like conditions. All my clothing was saturated after the first trip up, but I continued for a couple more repeats. By the third, I would've liked to crawl into a corner in the fetal position and cry for a while. But I couldn't find a corner, so I reminded myself of the time The Imposter felt hard and kept on riding. Then I realized I wasn't hard, and I was very uncomfortable. So I went home and decided I need to HTFU.

Cure for the indoor riding blues (aka the time I rode off the trainer, through the wall and into the next room).

I've done the impossible. I've learned to ride the trainer effectively; with a motivation and fervor like never before. With the proper stimuli, it just doesn't bother me so much anymore. The professional might overlook a couple key ingredients to an effective workout. The Amateur does not. Simply put, success is in the details. Learn it. Live it. Love it. It's 8 am on a Tuesday. The Mainstay's watch says it's time for a cocktail. It's the fucking holidays. HTFU.

Don't work.

My favorite and most thought provoking urinal experience in quite a while....courtesy of a South Carolina gas station bathroom. Two words and so many potential meanings....and while relieving myself, I pondered a few. What was the author trying to tell me? "Don't work"....as in "(it) don't work"? Like "it's broke"? Or did he mean for me not to work (it)...with "it" being the urinal. Or was it simply some ingenious short hand for "it don't work, 'cause it's broke...so don't go and try to work it". Or maybe he was trying to tell me personally not to work? As in I should quit my job. I'm ok with that too. I don't like to work so much anyway.

Separated at Birth (the legend of young Tommy Danielstay)

Two brothers, separated at birth. The Mainstay and Tommy D. Amateur cyclist and professional cyclist. Pacesetter Steel Service and Garmin. Full-blown alcoholic and full-blown hypochondriac. Sarah and Stephanie. Marlowe and Fido....similar traits, different paths. But there's one obvious connection that really ties this whole thing together. They both love their rainbows. Tommy D seeks them out for a photo op like the Def Leprechaun looking for his pot o' gold. The Mainstay...he just likes rainbow stickers on his bike. And who can blame him, really? One is no less adorable than the other. Love is a rainbow. And such is the legend of young Tommy Danielstay.

Insulting a dead man: Payne Stewart just rolled over in his grave.

Boonen! (aka the time I brought the news a day late and a dollar short...again)

I just came across this pic, and it reminded me of someone. Someone that has worn the rainbow stripes...and it's neither The Mainstay, nor Hoppy. It's someone that has won Roubaix. Someone that's been caught celebrating too early...and apparently too often. Yes, it's old news. But beggars can't be chosers. I honestly have no idea whether or not you're a beggar, but you're definitely not a chooser. Not here, you're not. I'm The Amateur, and I call the shots around here. You'll get the news when I get around to it.