Darn...

Ju said he's no longer in Ukraine anymore and has instead re-located back to Brazil. Darn. Guess I'll just have to go back there again.

Invite for Garry

Teammies,

As you may know, GazFest 2010 will be taking place this coming Monday and I'm writing to encourage every one of you to attend. This year's celebration will be of particular significance because the good folks from the Guinness Book of World Records will be in attendance to certify Garry as the Oldest Person Ever. They've even created a new number for him since there isn't actually a number that goes that high. His new number, in his honor, will be called Gazooogle (notice the third 'o' in the number, this was done as an indication of just how large the number is). Hopefully Richard will be in attendance since he's pretty smart and may actually know what the previous largest number used to be until Garry became older this year, necessitating the creation of Gazooogle.

The activities will start off in the morning with the ceremonial parade up Mt. Diablo (ask Garry what it was like before it was actually a Mt. It's a pretty cool story), after which we'll all gather at Garry's house to use up all his towels, clog his toilets, and eat everything in sight. Actually, the food part is great because Garry's better half (no, not his ass!), puts together quite a spread. Oh, and to make Garry feel young again, we call it lunch even though meal time is much closer to his normal 4pm dinner time.

Entertainment will include, but is not limited to:
1. Story time during which Garry tells us what it was like to hang out with Jesus before he got into the cross bearing business.

2. Nap time. Actually, this is pretty much all day long for Garry.

3. A Bridge tournament. I have no idea what Bridge is, but apparently it's all the rage at the local AARP.

4. "What's My Name" No, this isn't a dirty game, this is a fun one where we tell Garry our names and then see how long it takes him to ask us who we all are and what the hell are we doing in his house. Currently Gaz is on a 5 minute cycle.

5. Prune Tag. Kinda like dodgeball, except with stewed prunes. Don't worry about the mess, his guard dog usually cleans up most of it.

And many, many more fun games. You'll see.

BTW, note that the ride is on 2/15, not 2/14 so don't write back with any of those Valentines Day BS excuses. Pay Hallmark on Sunday, ride on Monday. Also, I've taken the liberty of having all local rides by all clubs, teams, and random groups of people, canceled so as to allow for the greatest possible attendance figures. This means that nobody has any other ride plans, so don't come at me with that one either cuz it's a lie. Most importantly, Monday is President's Day, and since Gaz is the Prez of the team, I believe it's some sort of Federal law that you MUST celebrate the day with the Prez. Finally, you wouldn't miss your Grandparent's birthday, would you? No? Well good. Garry is at least twice as old as them, so you should be twice as likely to show up for his birthday.

Thanks, and see you Monday!

-Zigaggeration

Oh? What's this?

SE says he's got a few days of Maui lined up for the trip. Yes please. May I also have an extra helping of Beer and Beaches to go with that?

Just emailed the stinky bastard Juliano so we'll see about checking out the Ukraine later this year too.

Pandora Lottery Perfection

Pandora QuickMix just spit out some Marvin Gaye, Etta James, Ella Fitzgerald, Al Green, and some wicked flamenco from someone I've never heard of. Etta followed immediately by Ella...are you kidding me? Gave me feckin goose bumps. Perfection? Yes, I think so!

Thanks, Boss!

Company stock's gone through the roof thanks to the fresh "For Sale" sign tacked to the side of the building, boss decided I "work" hard enough for a decent raise...platinum problems all solved with the click of a button! Now that it's empty, I'm off to Hawaii for a nice sized chunk of quiet time, and of course the three B's...Beer, Beaches, Bicycles. Erwin says all I gotta do is pick up my socks and his wife won't even know I'm there. Deal!

Back on the horse

I want back on. Everyone says I shouldn't do it, that I'm lucky to be alive, etc. etc. Maybe they're right, maybe not. Either way, I want back on. I don't think it's so much the "freedom" that others say they love about it, rather I enjoy the skill and concentration required to do it efficiently (i.e. not kill myself). Yes the acceleration is addictive but one quickly realizes how silly and irresponsible it is to twist the right-side grip to the lower stop. Good moto brakes can slow you down quick, but nowhere near as quick as those on a car, and it takes much longer than one thinks to slow down from 140 or so. No, I don't need top speed. I've been there on two wheels and on four and can say for certain that it's much more fun on four...death isn't so apparent when surrounded on all four sides by metal. I need clutchless upshifts and perfectly rev-matched downshifts just before hitting as near a perfect apex as my skill will allow.

I want back on. My time with the machine is not finished yet.

If you wanna...

There's so many ways to offer monetary assistance to Haiti right now and most turn to the American Red Cross to do so. This is not a bad thing, it's just not the most efficient way to go about helping out. I was recently directed towards Direct Relief International as a charity to consider when deciding where to donate. They're 99% efficient which means that 99 cents of every dollar goes toward the cause it was intended for, whereas the ARC is overburdened with a hefty CEO salary and Bureaucratic BS. If you're thinking about donating but haven't decided whom to give your money to, give DRI a look.

Banged up.

Cross nutcase J-Sage got runned over by one of them there SUV's. It worked him over pretty bad...busted arm, and his face got made uglier. His wife reports that his facial surgery went well and that his arm is put back where it should be and that he'll likely be on his way home today. Heal fast Sage...

It's time.

I need to get back on the bike. I need the pain. I need the suffering. I must go fast again.

Totally Backwards

Hot dang! I did me one of them thar durned backwards circles! It was the coolest, kinda like when you finally manage to "sneak one past the goalie" for the first time, only not as cool. We'll see if I can manage to get more than one done during practice session #3.

I wanna fix up the fixie pretty soon. I'm thinking paint, cranks, BB, sprinters bars (thought about flat bars, but that's way too poser NYC messenger style), maybe new fork, painted Velocity wheels, and whatever else would look cool. I kinda like the fork that's on it now because it's an old lugged boat anchor that has "FUJI" stamped into the crown (thinking it would look cool to hand paint the "FUJI"). I'm not sure what colors I'm gonna go with, but I'm leaning towards a pearl white base and pearl/metallic blue or green (or red, or bronze, or, or...). Whatever I chose, I would like to paint the stem and seatpost the same as the base color.

I was thinking of ditching the e-brake on the front of the Fixed-Rod because I hardly ever use it, but I guess the folks up in Oregon are making that kinda shenaniganery(sp?) illegal. I guess it doesn't hurt to have the e-brake on just in case one of the wackos around here tries to kill me on accident.

Oh yeah, looks like Floydosterone is g-g-g-guilty. Rumor has it that the believers camp thinks someone swapped out Floyd's piss cup with that of super runner Justin Gatlin. Oh, wait. Shit. They both came out positive. Nevermind.

RaceClean...

Mr. Clean, outed. So that explains the disdain with which he comments about former AV/Webcor riders. Google the name and it looks like he's been a loudmouth for quite some time.

Floyd...Who Cares.

Everybody is all boo-hoo over Floydieboy's positive for ballsack patches and I could really give a shit. Just as Floyd said in his SI interview, regardless of the outcome, this has all cast a big black cloud over him for the rest of his career. Sucks for him. At least he made some good money before he got popped.

And all this nonsense about it ruining the sport is just stupid too. It's a big deal because the media sensationalizes it. Why can't the media do like they did with baseball, and continue to do with football: just forget about it? Let's not forget that these guys are, after all is said and done, paid entertainers.

If Kid Rock is really guilty, he probably just got his dosage wrong. From what I gather from the testosterone stuff I looked up, there's at least two or three products that could have been used to aid in recovery. Looks like Mr. Lim needs to retake Pharmacology 101.

Backwards circles

Doin backwards circles on the fixie is the shit. Too bad I'm not that good at them yet. I've practiced once late at night...because it's so farkin' HOT during the day. I've got the bike to go around about 3/4 of the way, then I become a wuss, sprout a vagina and put a foot on the ground. If you wanna know what I'm talking about, go to youtube or googlevideo and look up backwards circles. Guaranteed rockstar-style shit! All the kids are gonna be doing it next year, you watch.

HOT!

Holy Jeebus! It's been hot as balls lately! Since I don't like doing anything more than breathing when it's as hot as it's been, I haven't touched my bike in about a week. Earlier in the year this may have bothered me, but now I don't really give a hoot. I'll train a bit more for one or two more crits so I don't show up and make a complete fool of myself. That is, of course, if this heat ever goes away.

Danger! Danger!

I'm not sure when it happened, perhaps it happened so gradually I never really knew it was coming. Creativity and the ability to think for myself has kinda left me. I can't remember the last time I had something interesting to say or could make a worthwhile contribution to any discussion. Excitement for anything other than riding my bike (not racing), and sleeping is hard to come by.

I know what did it. Work. More specifically, doing a job I have no passion for and which demands more of me than I am willing to give. It has sucked the cool right out of this Joe Cool.

I know what I have to do to fix the problem too. I can't fix it right away though. The fixing will take some time and planning, squirreling away resources and lining up ducks, or something like that. The fix will be good. Thinking about it makes me smile. Shit, I'm even a little excited about it.

fer chrissake, man!

Sleep ain't so easy when the little wheels in the brain-box are spinning out of control.

Going to work is bad enough. Having to do it on very little sleep is absolute torture.

Skin...

The mound of rotting flesh on my leg has gone away and now looks like nice, normal, just crashed on and healed, skin. Most of the skin that went missing at the BurlyGames Crit has grown back, with the exception of this troublesome patch on my elbow, which happens to be right where the nastiest scar on my body already lives. This is just fantastic because it means that the scar will now just get even bigger and nastier. Everyone that sees it tells me that I should get it taken care of because, well, you know, it's nasty. I figure I'll just roll with it and keep on using it as my primary method of slowing down in crashes. By the time I'm done racing, the elbow will either be completely covered in one giant scar, and therefore have a somewhat uniform appearance, or it will continue on in its current state, only bigger and nastier than ever.

Growing skin is fun stuff. Kinda like raising a plant, only faster and a bit more involved. Get it right and moderately deep road rash is fixed in a week. Get it wrong and you have a stinky mound of not so healthy stuff, which itself can be healed fairly quickly if handled properly.

Right. Skin. Good Times.

Mah Farkin Rib, Man!

Right, so since Jandy Mandy from the Red Villains linked me on his damn blargo-poster, I figure I ought ta post at least a little something about something.

I won't say anything about the dumbfucks over in france cuz there's already plenty of coverage about that.

I'm gonna tell you about my skin and my favorite almost busted rib. I crashed my bicycle last weekend and in the process got mowed over by no fewer than six other Crit Monkeys as I hit the deck. The surface damage wasn't too bad considering my speed and the condition of the pavement I fell on. Most of the stuff wasn't too deep, there was just lots of it. Well, it's been five days now, most of it is about 80% healed, except for one little spot on my leg. Last night while I was checking out the damage, I noticed that the really shallow stuff on my leg hurt really bad, and that it was waaaay more red than it was the day before. I tore off the Tegaderm patch to reveal a huge mountain of infected skin and puss. Fan-fucking-tastic! I gave it a good cleaning, put a big 'ole glop of Brave Soldier antiseptic ointment on it, and bandaged it up. This morning, the mound of rotten flesh had improved a bunch. Swelling had gone down and the leakage was almost gone. Hopefully my leg doesn't fall off.

How the hell did that happen? I usually keep very sanitary and sterile conditions while I bandage my effed up flesh, and this stuff was so shallow as to almost not need a bandage. I dunno. It just sucks.

Oh, and about that rib... I went for x-rays the day after my smash-up just to make sure my back wasn't busted because that was what hurt at the time. Doc says nothing looked broken, I asked him to look at the part of the x-ray with my ribs and again he reported nothing broken. Cool. The back is slowly getting better each day, but this goddamned rib is getting worse! I no longer get good sleep because every time I roll onto my left side, I'm quickly reminded that shit aint right on that side of the business. Deep breaths hurt like a sonofadonkey, and certain twisting movements make me wanna yelp like the dog I kicked last night.

From what I understand, nothing can be done about a broken or bruised rib other than to just let it heal. This sucks balls.

Lemme tell you about bicycle racing

When I first started racing bicycles, the first thing that came to my mind was "what the hell was I thinking? I'm never going to do this again!" This was because the first race I attempted was in July, the exact time of year when the fitness levels of most bike racers is peaking for the season; my fitness was still sitting on its ass on the living room couch. I left that race nearly vomiting. I had gotten lapped just a few laps into the thing. I made a promise to myself that I would come back, and that next year would be different. So in the coming months I did as I always do with new hobbies, I became obsessed. I read magazines, websites, and whatever books I could find (which actually amounted to only the Lance Armstrong book and a training guide cleverly named "Training Bible"). I learned what I needed to do in order to survive one of these marathons of torture called a bicycle race, and over the course of the winter I set about becoming fit. Towards the end of the year I joined a team mostly out of a want for company during "long" rides. Long to me then was anything in excess of two hours, whereas now I feel almost cheated if I don't get at least two hours in and will only call it a long day if the hour marker passes four. The team was great. The captain, who was also the most experienced on the bike, became somewhat of a mentor to me, giving me suggestions and most importantly, encouraging me and providing positive support of my efforts.

Eventually, it came time to race my bike again. This time, things didn't go so bad. They didn't go so good, but at least I didn't quit. It took about a half year's worth of races before things really clicked. The race, an annual July 4th crit, is one of my fondest memories of a bike race yet. It was at this race that I really learned what it meant to be IN the race, to be one with it. I think it was about a quarter of the way through the race that I decided that the way I had been racing was crap and that I would try to race up at the front with all the Big Guns. I made my way to the front but immediately found myself back where I started so I tried again. However, this time it was different. This time I got the feeling that there was some sort of flow to the race, that things weren't nearly as hectic as I had previously thought. Once I stopped worrying about all the folks in the middle that are just struggling to stay out of the wind and on the wheel of the guy in front, I saw the movement of the race clear as day. The pack was not as I had once thought, a static entity but for the few at the front, rather it was a completely dynamic group with an almost predictable movement. I learned how to "surf" the pack, essentially just drafting off of the guy making a move up the side so as to not use much of my own energy to do so, and managed to easily hold a top spot at the front of the race for as long as I chose to do so. I earned a second placing that day.

As the racing season went on, I became more and more aware of and in tune with the bicycle race. It usually takes me about five minutes to settle into any race and really get into "the zone". When I get there, nothing else exists except for the race itself. The only sounds I hear are my own bicycle, the wind, and the riders around me. So sensitive does my awareness of the race become that at times I can hear the sound of individual riders going a few mph faster than the rest of the pack and know that I either need to get on their wheel or get ready to chase them down. When I'm in this zone, pain almost doesn't exist. Effortst that would normally make me quit go unnoticed until after it's all over. Then I go vomit. As a race nears the end, if it is still all together as a bunch without any breakaways up the road, the fight for position becomes somewhat of an epic battle. It's the final test of the legs before those that can sprint do their business that those that can't tend to just get in the way. After it's all over, providing that I haven't crashed, I can't wait to be back at it the next weekend, banging handlebars, rubbing tyres, and bumping elbows.

That's what I know about bicycle racing.

-BZ

Corporate BS

At my place of work, several things are used as status symbols: reserved parking spaces, the size of your cubicle or, should you be high enough on the shitheap, the size of your office, the type of chair you sit in, and most recently, the type of monitor you stare at on a daily basis. In the beginning, the monitor was nothing more than a tool with which you read emails and checked out non-Christian websites when nobody was looking. Now, however, the appearance of an LCD monitor on your desk mean that you were more than the average paycheck-earning grunt. You were special. You had power, and chances are that you had more than one plebe with his or her nose firmly affixed to your chocolate starfish. This is great because the monitor has created a little bit of inter-office jealousy. My group was the first to get them. We bought lots. The artsy-fartsy fucks in the Artsy-Fartsy department were pissed. They wanted them too. Well, they got them. And they were smaller than what they started with. Jackasses. Now that they have them, my group has gotten the go-ahead to get bigger ones, and twice as many. Will this mess ever end?

-BZ