Reader Beware: The following entry is rife with a certain smelly human excretion, poop
When I woke up this morning at 8am, I thought to myself "Today is going to be a good day." I spent all day yesterday working, ate relatively healthily (no Sun Kat Kit Chips in sight), and drank lots of water. After a quick breakfast, I took my usual pre-race dump, but something wasn't right. My stomach hurt and I pretty much pissed out of my ass. Diarrhea. Shit...
At the race, I figured I'd be ok having cleared the junk out of my system. I actually warmed up and stretched for the race. I felt kind of funny doing it. It wasn't the I-gotta-take-a-shit-again funny, but the more novel, awkward kind of funny because I rarely stretch unless it's for some candy or a beer and because my warm-ups usually consist of me tooling around one-footed on the rollers and then standing around scratching my junk. I did a few laps on the course before my race started too and felt really good going around the corners, which is a good thing since I've been a little more reluctant to lean the bike over considering my crash record. As I lined up at the start, the official said we had about 6 minutes till the whistle. I and a few others took another lap then to kill about 2-3minutes. Upon our return to the start line, everyone and their grandmother had already lined up. That's fine, I've started from worse positions. One time my bike was facing forwards and I was facing the back, which made things a little difficult when I tried to clip in. The race shot off the line with a bang, although I would call it more of a crappy-jazz-lounge finger snapping as 50-something racers clipped in simultaneously. 8 laps in and I start feeling like shit. Alarms are going off in my head. I'm feeling nauseous and like I was about to puke. Two laps later I pull myself. Dammit. I'm more than a little pissed at myself. Shit.
After the race, I downed tons of water, packed up and talked to Allie-Z for a minute. I start feeling better, but not for long. As soon as I get into the car, my stomach starts rumbling again. "Uh-oh" I think to myself, "This is bad." I found myself trapped driving a car, while my butt longed for porcelain relief. By breaking a couple speed limits and probably the sound barrier, I finally made it home with my bowels intact just in time to wash the toilet down with another healthy batch of ass juice. Fucking shit!
I don't think I'll do many more road races this season. I suck too much at them and really want to try my hand at a few mountain bike races and eventually some 'cross races. Those kind of race tend to suit my lifestyle too. Compared to road races, you're pretty much expected to crash, drink, smoke, snort blow, and eat waffles in the dirt and mud. I don't know where poop comes into play, but I'll figure that shit out sooner or later.
Also fun:
Playing 'Poop or Fart' is a great way to pass the time driving home. In this game you must determine if that rumbling near your sphincter will eventually be a a solid or a gas. Honestly, its a pretty shitty game because you lose either way.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Bridging the Gap: Sun Kat Kit Chips
Sun Kat Kit Chips. I know this sounds totally gross, but you have to try this. Get a bag of French Onion Sun Chips and a few Kit-Kat bars. Eat them together. The flavor is incredible! It's like crisp chocolatey trail mix but with a Honey Grahams finish. Ok. Sure, I was totally wasted when I came up with this, but believe me it is A-MA-ZING. Just try it already. Isn't it great?
I used this delicious combination last night to carbo load for my race tomorrow. That's right. I bet you didn't think about that did you? Hearty whole grain chips, creamy milk chocolate, wafery wafers. Chase it with some HGH, EPO, and a multi-vitamin and you've got the breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions. We'll see how this theory holds up a the Reston Town Center Grand Prix. Five bucks says I puke a whole Kit Kat up in the middle of the race.
Also Good:
Wildberry Lifesaver Gummi Sours and Twix, but I don't have a clever name for it like 'Sun Kat Kit Chips'.
I used this delicious combination last night to carbo load for my race tomorrow. That's right. I bet you didn't think about that did you? Hearty whole grain chips, creamy milk chocolate, wafery wafers. Chase it with some HGH, EPO, and a multi-vitamin and you've got the breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions. We'll see how this theory holds up a the Reston Town Center Grand Prix. Five bucks says I puke a whole Kit Kat up in the middle of the race.
Also Good:
Wildberry Lifesaver Gummi Sours and Twix, but I don't have a clever name for it like 'Sun Kat Kit Chips'.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Bridging the Gap: Signs
Sorry about the sparse entries. I'll be the first to admit it was the drugs. Here's something that surely signals the end of cycling. Now the only thing left to do is integrate this into a more aerodynamic, carbon fiber design and sell it to a giant frame manufacturer like Cervelo or get a pro triathlete to 'race' on it. That shouldn't be that hard, should it?
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Harder, Better, Faster Stronger
I'm getting pretty tired of so-called 'tech' reports that make the same performance claims every time except with a different brand name coupled with SL, R, X, JDJFKLS, etc. As far as frame engineering goes, there a few concepts that will always be standards (two wheels, crank, headset, fork) and there will always be areas that frame manufacturers will try to change so that the bike 'performs' better (material, layup, bb and headset cups, geometry). One such manufacturer that is a bit late to the game has debuted their 2009 lineup somewhat early in the hopes of not being seen as a douchebag next year. Too late, Giant! You've made the Sega-mistake. Much like the gaming console manufacturer, you've showed the world everything you've got and while it was a significant improvement over last/this year's mess, you're still failing to inspire the masses into buying your product. Sure. Thanks for the new bike, but you're going to have to try harder than that to impress me.
Cyclingnews.com recently reported on the new TCR Advanced SL superbike. As far as bikes go, it was a pretty standard 'upgrade' from Giant's previous top end racer. Stiffer __%, more vertically compliant, lighter __ grams, and new 'unconventional' bearing this-and-that. Blah blah blah. One of the things that kills me about the new 'lighter' frames are all the parts that go AWOL once a frame gets to the scale. Despite stunning claims from manufacturers, frame weight has always been an arbitrary measure of bike performance. It's getting to a point where cyclists are sacrificing the ridability (?) of their bikes to get the latest and greatest. You know what that means? More people bugging me to fix their bikes! Arrrgghh...
First thing to go from a frame? Barrel adjusters. God forbid a cyclist have the ability comfortably tension their derailleur cables on the fly. In-line tensioners suck and don't always offer one-hand, easy to reach adjustment, as one or both ends usually stick to the cable housing. Also along those lines**, some manufacturers are getting creative with their cable stop placement, creating kinks and awkward angles. For example, the internal rear brake cable routing on a Madone is great aesthetically and almost works sometimes. And I'll be the first to admit that it is not the hugest time-wasting pain-in-the-ass cabling setup available (Klein bikes, anyone?). But the rear cable stop is held in with a plastic screw. And not hard plastic, but like the plastic you get when you melt a Ziploc bag on the stove. Also, the routing on smaller sized frames creates a giant kink in the cable housing, which has to exit in an S-shape parallel to the top tube and then must swoop upwards and come down nearly perpendicular to the top tube in order to be run through the brake, all with about 2.5inches of space to work with. Half the time the return spring on the brake doesn't open all the way on the 47cm frames. But who needs brakes anyways? I hear all they actually do is slow you down.
What's next? Are we just going to remove all the cable stops and guides? Soon we'll have to hold all the cable and housing with our teeth as we ride. Sure it will promote healthy flossing habits, but screw that crap. I want a bike that works. Now, we have threadless bottom brackets, 'integrated' frame-specific headsets, giant-ass lower headset bearings that no conventional fork will fit. Sure, this is all part of a new road bike 'revolution' and we can all half-heartedly applaud Giant's sluggish acquiescence to the new 'norm'.
Now, where's my Gunnar?
Also:
Kudos to bikes like the Orbea Opal and Specialized SL2 for being highly race-worthy platforms and still having normal cable stops and barrel adjusters.
Also also:
Is it ironic that the Giant logos on the down tube are giant? I would have said they're just stupid, but using words like 'ironic' make me sound smarter. Is it also ironic/stupid that the logo on the head tube is ugly and small?
Also also also:
I think my love for barrel adjusters come from my regular, intimate, and somewhat erotic encounters with them as a grease monkey wrenching at a shop. Oh, the things I can do with my index finger and thumb would amaze you. I could get your carbon fiber bike to blush and make you jealous with just those two fingers.
Endnote:
**It's a pun! Lines. Cables. Get it?!?
Cyclingnews.com recently reported on the new TCR Advanced SL superbike. As far as bikes go, it was a pretty standard 'upgrade' from Giant's previous top end racer. Stiffer __%, more vertically compliant, lighter __ grams, and new 'unconventional' bearing this-and-that. Blah blah blah. One of the things that kills me about the new 'lighter' frames are all the parts that go AWOL once a frame gets to the scale. Despite stunning claims from manufacturers, frame weight has always been an arbitrary measure of bike performance. It's getting to a point where cyclists are sacrificing the ridability (?) of their bikes to get the latest and greatest. You know what that means? More people bugging me to fix their bikes! Arrrgghh...
First thing to go from a frame? Barrel adjusters. God forbid a cyclist have the ability comfortably tension their derailleur cables on the fly. In-line tensioners suck and don't always offer one-hand, easy to reach adjustment, as one or both ends usually stick to the cable housing. Also along those lines**, some manufacturers are getting creative with their cable stop placement, creating kinks and awkward angles. For example, the internal rear brake cable routing on a Madone is great aesthetically and almost works sometimes. And I'll be the first to admit that it is not the hugest time-wasting pain-in-the-ass cabling setup available (Klein bikes, anyone?). But the rear cable stop is held in with a plastic screw. And not hard plastic, but like the plastic you get when you melt a Ziploc bag on the stove. Also, the routing on smaller sized frames creates a giant kink in the cable housing, which has to exit in an S-shape parallel to the top tube and then must swoop upwards and come down nearly perpendicular to the top tube in order to be run through the brake, all with about 2.5inches of space to work with. Half the time the return spring on the brake doesn't open all the way on the 47cm frames. But who needs brakes anyways? I hear all they actually do is slow you down.
What's next? Are we just going to remove all the cable stops and guides? Soon we'll have to hold all the cable and housing with our teeth as we ride. Sure it will promote healthy flossing habits, but screw that crap. I want a bike that works. Now, we have threadless bottom brackets, 'integrated' frame-specific headsets, giant-ass lower headset bearings that no conventional fork will fit. Sure, this is all part of a new road bike 'revolution' and we can all half-heartedly applaud Giant's sluggish acquiescence to the new 'norm'.
Now, where's my Gunnar?
Also:
Kudos to bikes like the Orbea Opal and Specialized SL2 for being highly race-worthy platforms and still having normal cable stops and barrel adjusters.
Also also:
Is it ironic that the Giant logos on the down tube are giant? I would have said they're just stupid, but using words like 'ironic' make me sound smarter. Is it also ironic/stupid that the logo on the head tube is ugly and small?
Also also also:
I think my love for barrel adjusters come from my regular, intimate, and somewhat erotic encounters with them as a grease monkey wrenching at a shop. Oh, the things I can do with my index finger and thumb would amaze you. I could get your carbon fiber bike to blush and make you jealous with just those two fingers.
Endnote:
**It's a pun! Lines. Cables. Get it?!?
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Bridging the Gap: Sushi-tastic!
I ate the weight of my bicycle in sushi today. It was amazing. Two Shoes and I hit up Todai for lunch today and chowed down on their sushi buffet. I didn't eat breakfast this morning and had a light dinner last night, so I was ready for some monster-sized proportions. I came home and weighed myself after the event and discovered that I had packed on 5lbs of sushi (including 2 Pepsi's). I was pretty impressed with myself and then fell over into a food coma. I would like to thank the movie Incredible Hulk for giving me the inspiration to blow normal serving sizes into giant freakazoid sizes and also for the queasy green look that I had on my face as I tried to get up and leave that fine dining establishment.
Endnote:
Ok. So none of my bikes weigh 5lbs, not even close. But I'm sure you geniuses out there can come up with a formula full of funny numbers to derive a relation between what I ate and what I ride. I think you take the square-root of 5 and divide by zero or something.
Endnote:
Ok. So none of my bikes weigh 5lbs, not even close. But I'm sure you geniuses out there can come up with a formula full of funny numbers to derive a relation between what I ate and what I ride. I think you take the square-root of 5 and divide by zero or something.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Fuel Consumption
Ah yes, I haven't done a cliché omg-gas-prices rant yet. And hhhheeeerrreee we go!
I like cars. I really do. I especially like obscenely fast cars and can appreciate the engineering that goes into powering two tons of steel with thousands of tiny fiery explosions all while the passengers sit comfortably inside. As a wanna-be engineering nerd, I am fascinated by the machines, but as a cyclist, I generally hate the people that drive them. There are a few exceptions, like rally car drivers and Jeremy Clarkson. Everyone else, from Escalade driving soccer moms to geeks driving Priuses, can rot in hell. But what I hate more than stupid cars and stupider drivers is the fact that the joy of driving an automobile is now tainted with the stench of burning money. I can't drive a car now without thinking about fuel efficiency. I accelerate slower. I am more diligent on the brakes, careful to not scrub too much speed lest waste more gas getting back up to speed. I don't even blink, much less hit the brakes, when I run over triathletes anymore. Now I can/must commute to work by bike, which I really enjoy, but now do so with the added bonus of feeling like a tree-hugging eco snob when I do it. "So how much does it cost you to get to work, hmmm? Oh well that sucks for you, you gas-guzzling fascist!"
But have you ever wondered how much it actually costs to ride to work?
Thanks to obsessive fuel efficiency tracking, I've been conditioned to account for every cent of a commute. It costs me roughly $6 in fuel to travel round-trip from here to Arlington by car, assuming I don't get stuck in traffic and/or haven't been tripping on peyote. Half the appeal of biking to work, aside from gnarly bike tanning seshes (that's Bro for "sessions") is the fact that it costs you nothing more than your beer gut and a little extra time. Unfortunately, the dirty little secret about bike commuting is that the money you save on fuel for your car is spent two-fold on fuel for your body. The combination of biking to work and working on my feet all day has me in Tasmanian devil mode when it comes to food. I once ate a whole 8-inch apple pie from Whole Foods for a snack. I can put down pasta by the box and usually find myself grazing on something; baby carrots, potato chips, my foot, whatever. I get the munchies like I was the fifth cast member of the Half Baked crew. So I guess what I'm trying to say is save your beer gut and drive to work! You'll save money, I promise.
I like cars. I really do. I especially like obscenely fast cars and can appreciate the engineering that goes into powering two tons of steel with thousands of tiny fiery explosions all while the passengers sit comfortably inside. As a wanna-be engineering nerd, I am fascinated by the machines, but as a cyclist, I generally hate the people that drive them. There are a few exceptions, like rally car drivers and Jeremy Clarkson. Everyone else, from Escalade driving soccer moms to geeks driving Priuses, can rot in hell. But what I hate more than stupid cars and stupider drivers is the fact that the joy of driving an automobile is now tainted with the stench of burning money. I can't drive a car now without thinking about fuel efficiency. I accelerate slower. I am more diligent on the brakes, careful to not scrub too much speed lest waste more gas getting back up to speed. I don't even blink, much less hit the brakes, when I run over triathletes anymore. Now I can/must commute to work by bike, which I really enjoy, but now do so with the added bonus of feeling like a tree-hugging eco snob when I do it. "So how much does it cost you to get to work, hmmm? Oh well that sucks for you, you gas-guzzling fascist!"
But have you ever wondered how much it actually costs to ride to work?
Thanks to obsessive fuel efficiency tracking, I've been conditioned to account for every cent of a commute. It costs me roughly $6 in fuel to travel round-trip from here to Arlington by car, assuming I don't get stuck in traffic and/or haven't been tripping on peyote. Half the appeal of biking to work, aside from gnarly bike tanning seshes (that's Bro for "sessions") is the fact that it costs you nothing more than your beer gut and a little extra time. Unfortunately, the dirty little secret about bike commuting is that the money you save on fuel for your car is spent two-fold on fuel for your body. The combination of biking to work and working on my feet all day has me in Tasmanian devil mode when it comes to food. I once ate a whole 8-inch apple pie from Whole Foods for a snack. I can put down pasta by the box and usually find myself grazing on something; baby carrots, potato chips, my foot, whatever. I get the munchies like I was the fifth cast member of the Half Baked crew. So I guess what I'm trying to say is save your beer gut and drive to work! You'll save money, I promise.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
What the Fuck is Juice?!
What do you drink on a bike ride? What do you think I drink on a bike ride? I haven't really gotten around to spending money for Accelerade, Endurox, or whatever. You can't deny that those drinks are nutritionally good for you. However, they are financially unhealthy for your wallet. This rings especially true when considering that the greatest marginal return on drinking the stuff would be winning a local amateur race. While the stuff helps you not feel like crap (in theory*) during the race, I say big friggin' whoop-de-doo. Sure, it's better than water and you do need some form of nutrition on rides. But if I'm eating anything during a race, I prefer Clif Shot Bloks or gels instead of coating my downtube and seat tube with sticky drink mix. All other times, I'll eat just about anything. I'll put down soda, beer, or wolf an entire italian sub down. Shit, I'd order Chinese food if I thought the delivery guy could drop off some General Tso's and a fortune cookie to a cyclist on the move. The cookie would read: "A wise cyclist achieves the wins first, then crashes." And to think, I've had it wrong the entire time with my crash-lose-booze** method. That would be one smart cookie.
In Other News:
I think we're mountain biking again tonight at Wakefield, which is great because it's been a while since I've gotten drunk.
Endnotes:
*Everyone should feel like crap during a race. It's a race!
**Sometimes it's booze-crash-lose-booze.
In Other News:
I think we're mountain biking again tonight at Wakefield, which is great because it's been a while since I've gotten drunk.
Endnotes:
*Everyone should feel like crap during a race. It's a race!
**Sometimes it's booze-crash-lose-booze.
Bridging the Gap: Why Not?
When asked why Campy has shifted over to 11-speed cassettes for their new Chorus, Record, and Super-Record gruppos, press manager Francesco Zenere replied "Why not?" While part of me is pissed that my current 9-speed set is yet another generation older, it's nice to see this kind of drunk-at-the-wheel attitude. Fuck it! Put 18 cogs on the back and six chainrings up front for all I care. It's just bike stuff. More importantly, it's just bike stuff that I probably won't ever buy. So go on and talk about how awesome your silicon nitride ceramic bearings are and how stiff your cassette and derailleurs have become. I, like most cyclists, do not need these things to ride bikes. So why not ride with a 9-speed group? Why not race a steel bike? Why not just ride bikes and not rely on your componentry to make the difference between placing 37th and 38th in a Cat4 field sprint?
In Other News:
Why not be awesome and sponsor an American cycling team? Garmin is stepping up as title sponsor for Team Slipstream which will now be known as Team Garmin-Chipotle. Now, no cyclist will ever get lost or hungry on the road. Also, this leaves open the possibility for jet-propulsion via burrito fuel. Along similar lines, Team High Road will become Team Columbia. That's Columbia Sportswear, not the nation synonymous with the trafficking of illicit drugs. We already have one country-sponsored team with a bad rap for doping and don't need another.
In Other News:
Why not be awesome and sponsor an American cycling team? Garmin is stepping up as title sponsor for Team Slipstream which will now be known as Team Garmin-Chipotle. Now, no cyclist will ever get lost or hungry on the road. Also, this leaves open the possibility for jet-propulsion via burrito fuel. Along similar lines, Team High Road will become Team Columbia. That's Columbia Sportswear, not the nation synonymous with the trafficking of illicit drugs. We already have one country-sponsored team with a bad rap for doping and don't need another.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Not Even Close
I suck at shaving my legs. It's a shame too because, depending on who you ask, a cyclist is pretty much obligated to do it. I won't go into the reasons why we do it, but would like to focus on why I suck at it.
Road Rash
I have to swerve around large bits of not-quite scarred skin. Sometimes I underestimate my inability to shave my legs or forget that I have an open wound in a particular spot and run right over a tender patch of newish skin. I'm no stranger to blood and gore when it comes to shaving my legs. Other times I wuss out and completely avoid shaving large portions of my legs. As a result, large patches of hair are left behind and my leg looks like a map of the Caribbean islands. Well, only if the islands were sparsely inhabited by thin black sticks.
Laziness
I don't really grow that much leg hair to begin with so no one really notices if its been a while since my legs met with a razor. While others have hair that's borderline scary, I'm pretty smooth in the leg department thanks to my ethnicity and large patches of scarred skin. I might not be particularly happy with the patches I miss, but I feel like I get the general message across; that I'm a cyclist with really ugly bashed up legs.
Athleticism
My false sense of athleticism fails me in the shower. No, not that way, perv. But when it comes to nice smooth legs I get all crazy and whatnot. I mean, there's heat, steam, razor blades, blood and foam. Who could blame me for having an aggressive gung ho attitude? I'd be even more overzealous if I shaved with a katana or machete, but would also be missing a toe or leg. For my own sake and for the sake of all the bicycles I want to own, I should shave my legs with the girliest razor imaginable in a bubble bath with floating candles and flowers. While I might risk losing my manhood because of such a razor, it's a risk I've faced for many years.
Road Rash
I have to swerve around large bits of not-quite scarred skin. Sometimes I underestimate my inability to shave my legs or forget that I have an open wound in a particular spot and run right over a tender patch of newish skin. I'm no stranger to blood and gore when it comes to shaving my legs. Other times I wuss out and completely avoid shaving large portions of my legs. As a result, large patches of hair are left behind and my leg looks like a map of the Caribbean islands. Well, only if the islands were sparsely inhabited by thin black sticks.
Laziness
I don't really grow that much leg hair to begin with so no one really notices if its been a while since my legs met with a razor. While others have hair that's borderline scary, I'm pretty smooth in the leg department thanks to my ethnicity and large patches of scarred skin. I might not be particularly happy with the patches I miss, but I feel like I get the general message across; that I'm a cyclist with really ugly bashed up legs.
Athleticism
My false sense of athleticism fails me in the shower. No, not that way, perv. But when it comes to nice smooth legs I get all crazy and whatnot. I mean, there's heat, steam, razor blades, blood and foam. Who could blame me for having an aggressive gung ho attitude? I'd be even more overzealous if I shaved with a katana or machete, but would also be missing a toe or leg. For my own sake and for the sake of all the bicycles I want to own, I should shave my legs with the girliest razor imaginable in a bubble bath with floating candles and flowers. While I might risk losing my manhood because of such a razor, it's a risk I've faced for many years.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Handle It!
Despite having worked at the shop for nearly three years, there is always a first for something. Take yesterday for example. I almost got in a fist fight with a customer. Now I'm not talking about all the instances where I've had strong desires to choke someone. That kind of stuff happens all the time at the bike shop and usually involves nothing more than excessive ranting after work coupled with even more excessive boozing. This time was different. This time the customer actually wanted to fight me. CHA-CHING! For the sake of the this blog, let's call him A Simple Sucker, or ASS for short. This ASS brought his bike in to the shop to get a flat tire repaired. He also left his bike standing in the middle of the sales floor resting on its fork and rear wheel as he shopped around for ASS-like things. I, being the dynamic shop employee that I am, rushed past the bike to talk shop stuff with one of the managers and in doing so, slightly grazed the less than stable bike. The bike fell (duh). Patty Cakes, the sales associate helping ASS, quickly picked up the bike and checked it for damage. He would later tell me that the brakes were out of alignment. Note: when a bike falls over like that there's really no way a front brake is going to get damaged and the misalignment was probably a result of him pulling the wheel out to have the flat fixed. So the bike was completely unscathed. I, not being an ASS, knew this. In fact, everyone who isn't an ASS knew this. Bikes fall over. They don't get hurt that easily. I did however offer an apology to the young ASS in the form of the simple colloquial "My bad, dude." To which he replied in typical ASS fashion, "Yeah. It is." I was taken aback by this brash young man, but ignored his remark and focused on my task at one of the store's registers. Patty Cake comes up behind me to ring out the ASS and tells me about the brake. Seeing no customers in hearing range, I made a comment about "who the fuck leaves an unattended bike in the middle of the shop floor with out wheels on it" and just as I said that, ASS comes around the corner. "So that's how you feel?" he says, leaning over the sales counter staring me down with his arms crossed.
IC: Yeah. That is kind of how I feel.
ASS: How about you show some customer service for what you did?
IC: I said I was sorry and there's nothing wrong with your bike.
ASS: How about you own up to what you did and take care of it?
IC: Um, I don't know what you're talking about. Your bike is fine. You left it in the middle of the sales floor, so I don't really feel that bad that it got knocked over.
ASS: Why don't you fucking show some customer service and handle it like a man. Why don't you handle it, before I handle you!
IC: Handle what? Are you really threatening me about your bicycle? It's just a bike, you know.
ASS: So that it? It's like that?
IC: I don't really know what I'm supposed to say to that. I have stuff to do and you're being ridiculous. [turns towards computer monitor and avoids ASS's 'steely' gaze]
I really wanted him to punch me. I REALLY REALLY wanted him to punch me. It would have been an amazing spectacle, but I knew that if I didn't do everything possible to avoid it, I would still be at fault. Making fun of him for saying "handle it" to his face probably didn't help, but neither did the fact that he's a fucking ASS. I probably could have kicked him out of the shop, but still really wanted him to punch me. Could you imagine what he would have looked like explaining this to the police? I figure it would go something like this:
Po-Po: So what happened?
ASS: He knocked over my bike so I punched him.
Po-Po: So why do you have a pedal wrench stuck in the side of my head?
ASS: Because the chainwhip is stuck in my rectum and the pedal wrench wouldn't fit. Oh, and because I got my ass beat...
Po-Po: So you're going to the hospital and then jail because your bike got knocked over...
ASS: Just handle it, ok?
Endnote:
On the plus side for ASS, I'm sure he won some super brownie points for mouthing off and being a tough guy in front of his girlfriend. I'm glad I could at least help him out in that regard. How's that for customer service?
IC: Yeah. That is kind of how I feel.
ASS: How about you show some customer service for what you did?
IC: I said I was sorry and there's nothing wrong with your bike.
ASS: How about you own up to what you did and take care of it?
IC: Um, I don't know what you're talking about. Your bike is fine. You left it in the middle of the sales floor, so I don't really feel that bad that it got knocked over.
ASS: Why don't you fucking show some customer service and handle it like a man. Why don't you handle it, before I handle you!
IC: Handle what? Are you really threatening me about your bicycle? It's just a bike, you know.
ASS: So that it? It's like that?
IC: I don't really know what I'm supposed to say to that. I have stuff to do and you're being ridiculous. [turns towards computer monitor and avoids ASS's 'steely' gaze]
I really wanted him to punch me. I REALLY REALLY wanted him to punch me. It would have been an amazing spectacle, but I knew that if I didn't do everything possible to avoid it, I would still be at fault. Making fun of him for saying "handle it" to his face probably didn't help, but neither did the fact that he's a fucking ASS. I probably could have kicked him out of the shop, but still really wanted him to punch me. Could you imagine what he would have looked like explaining this to the police? I figure it would go something like this:
Po-Po: So what happened?
ASS: He knocked over my bike so I punched him.
Po-Po: So why do you have a pedal wrench stuck in the side of my head?
ASS: Because the chainwhip is stuck in my rectum and the pedal wrench wouldn't fit. Oh, and because I got my ass beat...
Po-Po: So you're going to the hospital and then jail because your bike got knocked over...
ASS: Just handle it, ok?
Endnote:
On the plus side for ASS, I'm sure he won some super brownie points for mouthing off and being a tough guy in front of his girlfriend. I'm glad I could at least help him out in that regard. How's that for customer service?
Friday, June 13, 2008
Bridging the Gap: The Shop Rides Wakefield
Today was the shop's first edition of the Thursday Night Ride at Wakefield. The ride is designed to provide demo bikes to the general public so they can see how awesome they are. The ride starts off at 7pm and ends around 9pm. Headlights are provided as well. Looks good on paper, no?
Only four of us showed up. It was me, Fat Cat, Salvadorian Dali, and his padre. We didn't exactly expand our customer base much with today ride, but had plenty of people asking about our demo 'program'. We only have 4 demo bikes (for now), two of which were taken by FC and SD's dad. Fortunately, one of my close girl friends, Sierra Nevada, showed up and joined in on the fun. Usually when me and her meet up, things quickly go to shit especially on the trail. Thankfully, I kept the rubber down and 'kept it in my pants' as the saying goes. The same can't be said for SD, who fell into just about every body of water tonight. Creeks, puddles, and droplets of sweat just weren't in his favor, but we still managed to put in a good 2 to 2.5hr ride. We picked up some wonderful tomato-free Wendy's coming home and now I have to quickly hose off my bike before either the mud crusts up or my buzz goes away.
Only four of us showed up. It was me, Fat Cat, Salvadorian Dali, and his padre. We didn't exactly expand our customer base much with today ride, but had plenty of people asking about our demo 'program'. We only have 4 demo bikes (for now), two of which were taken by FC and SD's dad. Fortunately, one of my close girl friends, Sierra Nevada, showed up and joined in on the fun. Usually when me and her meet up, things quickly go to shit especially on the trail. Thankfully, I kept the rubber down and 'kept it in my pants' as the saying goes. The same can't be said for SD, who fell into just about every body of water tonight. Creeks, puddles, and droplets of sweat just weren't in his favor, but we still managed to put in a good 2 to 2.5hr ride. We picked up some wonderful tomato-free Wendy's coming home and now I have to quickly hose off my bike before either the mud crusts up or my buzz goes away.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Bridging the Gap: Spirited Cycling
I rode to work yesterday. It was especially nice because the weather wasn't as insanely hot as it has been, not that it would have stopped me in the first place. I was planning to ride home, but then the sky went crazy. Lightning, thunder, dogs, and cats were all coming down for approximately 45minutes. It was like being in a dance club, not a real club mind you, but one that caters specifically to teens in a poor attempt to keep them out of trouble. Flashing lights, offbeat noises barely recognized as music, and no air-conditioning. Yup, it was totally like that one sober night I had in middle school. And much I did that night, I said to myself "I should have just gotten drunk and ridden my bike."
Along similar substance abuse 'lines':
Boonen is in trouble for doing coke. But honestly who didn't see this coming? He's been caught for speeding twice now. The second time, he was caught with a BAC of 0.10%. Two week suspension? What the fuck? Take his license away for good. It's not like the guy can't ride his bike to his coke dealer's house. Also, Tornado Tom owns a Lamborghini. I'm pretty sure there's a rule stating that all Lambo owners must do coke. In fact, a very reliable source tell me that the cars actually come with a kilo of Foo Foo. It comes in a carbon fiber attaché case, just like the one you get when you buy a Cervélo, except when you open the Cervélo case, all that's inside is a Post-it note that says "You're a Douchebag".
Along similar substance abuse 'lines':
Boonen is in trouble for doing coke. But honestly who didn't see this coming? He's been caught for speeding twice now. The second time, he was caught with a BAC of 0.10%. Two week suspension? What the fuck? Take his license away for good. It's not like the guy can't ride his bike to his coke dealer's house. Also, Tornado Tom owns a Lamborghini. I'm pretty sure there's a rule stating that all Lambo owners must do coke. In fact, a very reliable source tell me that the cars actually come with a kilo of Foo Foo. It comes in a carbon fiber attaché case, just like the one you get when you buy a Cervélo, except when you open the Cervélo case, all that's inside is a Post-it note that says "You're a Douchebag".
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
If I Could Just Be Emo
I made the mistake of clicking on this photobucket link. I don't really know who these people are or if these are even really people. I do know that you don't just wake up with hair like this or with your eyes looking like you came straight out of an anime. To each his own, I guess. For example, I know for a fact that I don't look particularly good in lycra. Combining that outfit with road grime, mud, dried sweat, and (more often than not) blood doesn't bode well for picking up the ladies or what's commonly called "game". But there are a few key differences between me and them:
1)
I do a majority of my ranting on this blog, not on a myspace page with Death Cab for Cutie playing, 43532654 friends that look the same, and sparkly letters that chase after my mouse waiting to give me an epileptic seizure. If I'm not typing my criticisms here, I'm voicing them. That's right. Real human interaction. If I'm not typing or talking, I'm usually choking the aero out of someone, but that's still counts as human interaction.
2)
Cycling has helped me realize that I have a finite amount of 'effort' in me. While this doesn't really translate to smarter racing (i.e. not chasing down everything in front of me with two wheels), off the bike it means that I put less effort, mental and physical, into things that aren't cycling related. Clothes are usually put on half-zipped or unbuttoned. Food isn't eaten with utensils, but rather by doing a faceplant in a trough. And as for what little hair I do have (I'm Asian, not balding), I simply shave it or buzz it until you can't tell whether I've just showered or woken up after a night of binge drinking. While smell is usually a good indicator of that, I might simply switch over to liquor-based shampoos and soaps, or just install that beer bong in the shower that I've been meaning to do. The point is why would I waste that much time looking like this when there are bike to be ridden?
3)
I want to get old. Contrary to the popular euphemism, no one has ever died of laughter. However, I have a theory that you can die from being laughed at and if I'm not mistaken, that is the entire premise of the emo/scenester culture: To be ridiculed until they drown in a puddle of their own tears, hair spray, and mascara. I understand that with all the crashes I've been in, one can't safely assume that self-preservation is one of my top priorities, but I assure you that I've put some serious thought into it and discovered you can't ride a bike if you're dead. It's a boat on the River Styx and not one of those cool ones that you pedal to move around in.
Endnote:
I don't really hate emo kids. I just think their particular choice to base their 'culture' around shit music, makeup, and hairstyles is a complete waste. And while they're annoying, they don't muck up the bike trials or ask me about 'aero' shit.
1)
I do a majority of my ranting on this blog, not on a myspace page with Death Cab for Cutie playing, 43532654 friends that look the same, and sparkly letters that chase after my mouse waiting to give me an epileptic seizure. If I'm not typing my criticisms here, I'm voicing them. That's right. Real human interaction. If I'm not typing or talking, I'm usually choking the aero out of someone, but that's still counts as human interaction.
2)
Cycling has helped me realize that I have a finite amount of 'effort' in me. While this doesn't really translate to smarter racing (i.e. not chasing down everything in front of me with two wheels), off the bike it means that I put less effort, mental and physical, into things that aren't cycling related. Clothes are usually put on half-zipped or unbuttoned. Food isn't eaten with utensils, but rather by doing a faceplant in a trough. And as for what little hair I do have (I'm Asian, not balding), I simply shave it or buzz it until you can't tell whether I've just showered or woken up after a night of binge drinking. While smell is usually a good indicator of that, I might simply switch over to liquor-based shampoos and soaps, or just install that beer bong in the shower that I've been meaning to do. The point is why would I waste that much time looking like this when there are bike to be ridden?
3)
I want to get old. Contrary to the popular euphemism, no one has ever died of laughter. However, I have a theory that you can die from being laughed at and if I'm not mistaken, that is the entire premise of the emo/scenester culture: To be ridiculed until they drown in a puddle of their own tears, hair spray, and mascara. I understand that with all the crashes I've been in, one can't safely assume that self-preservation is one of my top priorities, but I assure you that I've put some serious thought into it and discovered you can't ride a bike if you're dead. It's a boat on the River Styx and not one of those cool ones that you pedal to move around in.
Endnote:
I don't really hate emo kids. I just think their particular choice to base their 'culture' around shit music, makeup, and hairstyles is a complete waste. And while they're annoying, they don't muck up the bike trials or ask me about 'aero' shit.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Bridging the Gap: Heat Stroke Edition
I woke up this morning at 7:45 and was out the door by 8:15 to meet up with Salvadorian Dali in Vienna. We drilled it to Arlington, stopping to holler at Allie-Z on his new Specialized Transition. He was on his way to get a BJ out in Sterling. Yes, that is exactly what you think it is; someone riding his time trial bike to get fellated. At the shop, we met up with a gaggle of cyclists, regulars on the shop's Sunday group ride. Leaving the shop, we held a steady clip into Maryland and did the MacArthur loop, turning onto River and taking Persimmon back. After the ride, we had bagels, fruit, and juice and then I biked home. Sounds like a pretty good day, right?
RIGHT?
Sure. You could say that. But you could also say that I almost died of fucking heat stroke out there. The weather today wasn't just hot. It was the kind of hot that turns Powerbars into PowerGels and I had the proof in my jersey pocket. I was soaking wet as soon as I got clipped in today. The first thing I made sure to do upon arriving at the shop was pound a bottle of water. It would be the first of many bottles I emptied but I couldn't seem to keep hydrated. I was covered in salt from head to toe and eventually stopped sweating. I was close to bonking as I on the ride home. Its probably been three or four hours since I got home and I still have a headache. Lesson learned. Biking 50-something miles in the blistering heat is probably not a smart idea. But on the bright side, I got some serious work done on my cycling tan and feel like I properly broke in my Fat Cyclist jersey, although wearing a predominantly black kit was a pretty damn stupid idea.
I'll think of some better hydration techniques later. Right now I'm going to go ice my brain.
RIGHT?
Sure. You could say that. But you could also say that I almost died of fucking heat stroke out there. The weather today wasn't just hot. It was the kind of hot that turns Powerbars into PowerGels and I had the proof in my jersey pocket. I was soaking wet as soon as I got clipped in today. The first thing I made sure to do upon arriving at the shop was pound a bottle of water. It would be the first of many bottles I emptied but I couldn't seem to keep hydrated. I was covered in salt from head to toe and eventually stopped sweating. I was close to bonking as I on the ride home. Its probably been three or four hours since I got home and I still have a headache. Lesson learned. Biking 50-something miles in the blistering heat is probably not a smart idea. But on the bright side, I got some serious work done on my cycling tan and feel like I properly broke in my Fat Cyclist jersey, although wearing a predominantly black kit was a pretty damn stupid idea.
I'll think of some better hydration techniques later. Right now I'm going to go ice my brain.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Customer Satifaction
Work was hard today. It wasn't particularly busy. I was just hungover. I passed out at the shop again. That makes it three. Fortunately, I had company, an even drunker Raggedy Andy. I got a ride home in the morning (530), caught some more sleep on something that wasn't the floor and woke up a few hours later to go back to work. Aside from being a worthless piece of shit today (and last night), we've had a few interesting customers stop by. One guy argued that he should get a tune up* on the spot for his newly purchased 7.3FX because in a conversation on Tuesday, The Dragon told him that he could get one done if he came back on Friday. I checked his bike. Brakes were fine. Wheels were true. Adjusted the derailleurs. Tightened the headset. Lubed his chain.
IC: "Here you go, you don't need a tune up. Everything's fine with your bike."
Some Guy: "Uh, but I wanted a tune up."
IC: "but you don't need one. I took care of the shifting and headset. Everything else works fine."
SG: "I was told if I came back Friday I could get a tune up on the spot.
IC: "I'm sorry. That's not how we operate. If you want a tune up, you have to drop your bike off for two days. So, excluding the weekends, you'd be getting your bike back on Tuesday."
SG: "I talked to some guy last Tuesday named 'Dragon' who said I could get one on the spot."
IC: "I can't honor that. Its not part of shop policy. It's 5:30 and I still have a list of tickets that need to be done. Also, Dragon isn't here, otherwise I'd let him do the tune. Plus, Your. Bike. Does. Not. Need. A. Tune. Up."
The conversation continued a bit more with no one really budging. It was easy to see that on both sides frustration levels were rising, with the only difference being that "frustration" translates to "choke-you-out" in Mechanic. Finally, Some Guy gave up and left, though I'm pretty sure I'll be hearing back from him via our wonderful survey.
Along the lines of annoying customers/potential choking victims, a common theme from today and yesterday was Power. Power, expressed in watts, is a useful training tool. Power, expressed in dollars, is one reason I choose not to pursue this means of training.** Power, expressed by customers riding on FX-hybrids and Rust Bucket Junkers, is just plain ridiculous. One guy came in and said that he spends a lot of time in his 52x12 (That's top gear on a triple). "I like to go fast" he says. "40mph is fun, especially when I'm chasing down cars. And I always put it in a tough gear to climb out of the saddle. I like to put down a lot of power."
Another guy rides carbon tubulars at 170psi for his training rides and was having trouble keeping the pump attached to the valve when inflating his tires. I tried explaining to him that at such high pressures, you're increasing the amount you bounce off of small imperfections on the road and effectively losing traction with the ground. According to him "I like to ride them hard."*** Also, "I weigh 155lbs and the bike weighs 15lbs, so I run 170psi. Right?"
The list goes on and on, but the thing is none of these people are the typical "power numbers" cyclists. They're riding hybrids, mtbs, and 'superlight' road bikes that can't be burdened with power meters. These people claim to be powerful riders, but I have my doubts. They've taken a phrase derived from objective training tools and somehow managed to make it a subjective claim to LBS machismo. That combined with a guy that wanted an unnecessary tune-up and a whole slew of other random crap didn't make the hangover any easier. Tomorrow is a new day, albeit one where I am still going to be working at the bike shop. Thankfully, I'm sleeping in my own bed tonight and plan on doing something at work that I haven't done in a while: smile at customers.
Endnotes
* At the shop, we offer a full year of unlimited free tune ups to customers for the first year after purchasing a bike from us. These tunes are cleverly (mis)labeled as "Warranty Tunes"
** Other reasons would be: Beer, Laziness, and I like riding bikes.
*** That's what she said.
IC: "Here you go, you don't need a tune up. Everything's fine with your bike."
Some Guy: "Uh, but I wanted a tune up."
IC: "but you don't need one. I took care of the shifting and headset. Everything else works fine."
SG: "I was told if I came back Friday I could get a tune up on the spot.
IC: "I'm sorry. That's not how we operate. If you want a tune up, you have to drop your bike off for two days. So, excluding the weekends, you'd be getting your bike back on Tuesday."
SG: "I talked to some guy last Tuesday named 'Dragon' who said I could get one on the spot."
IC: "I can't honor that. Its not part of shop policy. It's 5:30 and I still have a list of tickets that need to be done. Also, Dragon isn't here, otherwise I'd let him do the tune. Plus, Your. Bike. Does. Not. Need. A. Tune. Up."
The conversation continued a bit more with no one really budging. It was easy to see that on both sides frustration levels were rising, with the only difference being that "frustration" translates to "choke-you-out" in Mechanic. Finally, Some Guy gave up and left, though I'm pretty sure I'll be hearing back from him via our wonderful survey.
Along the lines of annoying customers/potential choking victims, a common theme from today and yesterday was Power. Power, expressed in watts, is a useful training tool. Power, expressed in dollars, is one reason I choose not to pursue this means of training.** Power, expressed by customers riding on FX-hybrids and Rust Bucket Junkers, is just plain ridiculous. One guy came in and said that he spends a lot of time in his 52x12 (That's top gear on a triple). "I like to go fast" he says. "40mph is fun, especially when I'm chasing down cars. And I always put it in a tough gear to climb out of the saddle. I like to put down a lot of power."
Another guy rides carbon tubulars at 170psi for his training rides and was having trouble keeping the pump attached to the valve when inflating his tires. I tried explaining to him that at such high pressures, you're increasing the amount you bounce off of small imperfections on the road and effectively losing traction with the ground. According to him "I like to ride them hard."*** Also, "I weigh 155lbs and the bike weighs 15lbs, so I run 170psi. Right?"
The list goes on and on, but the thing is none of these people are the typical "power numbers" cyclists. They're riding hybrids, mtbs, and 'superlight' road bikes that can't be burdened with power meters. These people claim to be powerful riders, but I have my doubts. They've taken a phrase derived from objective training tools and somehow managed to make it a subjective claim to LBS machismo. That combined with a guy that wanted an unnecessary tune-up and a whole slew of other random crap didn't make the hangover any easier. Tomorrow is a new day, albeit one where I am still going to be working at the bike shop. Thankfully, I'm sleeping in my own bed tonight and plan on doing something at work that I haven't done in a while: smile at customers.
Endnotes
* At the shop, we offer a full year of unlimited free tune ups to customers for the first year after purchasing a bike from us. These tunes are cleverly (mis)labeled as "Warranty Tunes"
** Other reasons would be: Beer, Laziness, and I like riding bikes.
*** That's what she said.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
New Gears and CSC Backwash
Holy rusty drivetrains, Batman! Campagnolo and Shimano are both coming out with new groupos in the near future. We're getting a new 7900-series Dura-Ace this fall and Campy's redoing their top-end lineup and bringing back Super Record. Shimano has finally acquiesced to market demand and will be using carbon fiber in the brake levers and rear derailleur pulley cage and has also redesigned the shifter to include reach adjustment and under-the-bar cable routing. Oh, and now the chainrings are hollow too. Word around the rumor mill is that Campy's planning to introduce an 11-speed group for their top end lineups (Chorus and above) as well as ceramic bearing (*yawn*) and a new phallic lever shape.
What does that mean for cyclists? Stiffer? More efficient? Faster? Nope. None of that. It means you'll be paying more to go the same speed as other people who are paying less (namely yours truly). Because in this world, a few key upgrades won't give you the ability to roll your opponents off your wheel. In fact, it'll just infuriate them and give them the motivation to work harder, or crash into you. So why would someone get a high-end groupset? Because that shit is TIGHT! It's for the same reason every bro and chatch goes out and buys a Mercedes or BMW, even when a Honda provides the same means of transportation and is cheaper in both gas mileage and repair costs. I don't really mind that there are people riding with super high-end this or that. It may be a bit of a waste but if that's what some fat cyclist wants to ride on and can afford, who am I to stop them? I may laugh at them behind their backs, but I'm pretty sure I'd laugh at them to their faces too. What really sets me off is when people buy expensive stuff and then complain about how much money it actually costs. A Ferrari comes with a ridiculous repair bill, why shouldn't your Colnago? Yes, you do need to replace your titanium cassette and $200 chainrings. You wanted light and 'fast', so pay for it and get out of my face. We all know riding bikes isn't about ego, so don't put on a front about riding a bike that you don't want to maintain.
Also:
I finally came up with something funny to say about this guy, although the picture is still worth a million chortles. I did a little research and it turns out that he is a close relative to a famous superstar. "I RIDE A CERVELO. BITCH!!"
Also Also:
Team High Road showed up to CSC like this. While Rock Racing came to the race like this. Rock on High Road. I hope you guys pick up a title sponsor soon, but in the meantime give me a holler if you need to jump start your RV.
What does that mean for cyclists? Stiffer? More efficient? Faster? Nope. None of that. It means you'll be paying more to go the same speed as other people who are paying less (namely yours truly). Because in this world, a few key upgrades won't give you the ability to roll your opponents off your wheel. In fact, it'll just infuriate them and give them the motivation to work harder, or crash into you. So why would someone get a high-end groupset? Because that shit is TIGHT! It's for the same reason every bro and chatch goes out and buys a Mercedes or BMW, even when a Honda provides the same means of transportation and is cheaper in both gas mileage and repair costs. I don't really mind that there are people riding with super high-end this or that. It may be a bit of a waste but if that's what some fat cyclist wants to ride on and can afford, who am I to stop them? I may laugh at them behind their backs, but I'm pretty sure I'd laugh at them to their faces too. What really sets me off is when people buy expensive stuff and then complain about how much money it actually costs. A Ferrari comes with a ridiculous repair bill, why shouldn't your Colnago? Yes, you do need to replace your titanium cassette and $200 chainrings. You wanted light and 'fast', so pay for it and get out of my face. We all know riding bikes isn't about ego, so don't put on a front about riding a bike that you don't want to maintain.
Also:
I finally came up with something funny to say about this guy, although the picture is still worth a million chortles. I did a little research and it turns out that he is a close relative to a famous superstar. "I RIDE A CERVELO. BITCH!!"
Also Also:
Team High Road showed up to CSC like this. While Rock Racing came to the race like this. Rock on High Road. I hope you guys pick up a title sponsor soon, but in the meantime give me a holler if you need to jump start your RV.
One Hundred
I realize Tuesday is a bit off the mark for a weekend review, so let's just pretend that it was a three day weekend. And heeerrree we go!
Saturday:
Work. Lame. Though I did ride in with Salvadorian Dali and we played an epic game of Dibs on the way in. The rain came down hard in the afternoon so our day kind of hit a lull. After work, we did the usual. After a few 12-packs, a group of six of us went out for dinner at a local craptastic restaurant. I don't know why we keep going there. The food sucks and I hate margaritas and mojitos. I think the only reason we go there is because we've already marked the restaurant as part of our drinking territory. And much like how dogs leave their mark, I'm sure we've left our fair share of urine and vomit in and around the establishment. Having biked in and not being drunk enough to warrant another night of shop floor slumber, I biked home. I should have taken it easy (the story of my life), but instead I decided to "race the alcohol". At the moment, I still don't know what that means. Maybe I thought that I could beat the drunkeness home before I got even more drunk or that I could just power through the beers and tequila to get to bed as soon as possible. Either way, it was a bad idea. Apparently when you drink alcohol, it gets into your bloodstream somehow and (here's where things get confusing) if you engage in physically strenuous activity, you become more drunk and dehydrated because of your increased heart rate and perspiration. So I went from leaving the shit hole restaurant slightly drunk to arriving at home pretty much entirely wasted. This theory also explains how I almost died on the bike path. What I thought to be giant hazy mass of fog was in actuality a blurry massive tree that fell on the W&OD. While it was the rain the fell the tree on the path, it was definitely the speed and alcohol that made a tree look like fog. Fortunately, my Cat4-like reflexes helped me swerve just barely out of the way and I made it home in one piece, albeit with a few additional pieces of tree attached.
Sunday:
Waking up four and a half hours later (5:45am), I put myself together and drove to Arlington to help the shop set up for the CSC Invitational. For the first time in three years, I wasn't scheduled to wrench at the shop and was able to watch the races. Hangover be damned, it was great to be out there. It would've been great to actually race, but as we all know, racing isn't really my forte. We setup a display tent at the 'expo' directly across from the Rock Racing merchandise titan. They had a huge semi, two 15-foot tents, 3 ugly chicks, 1 hot chick, and a surly guy in a truckers cap. It was somewhat cool to see, even if it was for only for the novelty of seeing a glorified mall storefront. Overshadowing its novelty was the fact that I wanted to kill myself after listening to their Rock Racing commercial for the five millionth time. The best part of the race was seeing racers like Magnus Backstedt, David Clinger, Dominique Rollin, et al. The downside to having a huge bike race in town had to have been all the crazies that came out of the woodwork. This guy was good for a few laughs and stood as a prime example of the type of customers that Cervelo attracts. Assos skinsuit, 'aero' helmet, Camelbak, no bar tape, Zero-G brakes, Campy Record, and Nimble wheels modeled after blender blades. He must have won the prestigious I-have-a-light-bike award, which oddly enough means that he crushed the competition in the Cyclist-without-a-clue contest. He also caught me taking this picture. Oops. He probably thought I had mistaken him for a professional cyclist. The day continued, I chatted up people stopping by our booth, saw a few crashes, and caught up with friends. And just as quickly as it started, the racing and ridicule came to a close. I helped pack up the van, hung out for a bit, had dinner, and went home and happily passed out.
Monday:
Work. Lame. I was the shop's uber-employee. I sold three bikes, wrenched on a couple, and generally ran around an understaffed bike shop as el Chino en Fuego. It was a long day, but there was plenty of beer at the end of the rainbow. I also saw The Strangers. It was a horrible cheap thrill, kind of like when I crash out of races, except a whole lot cheaper (but probably featured the same amount of blood).
Also:
Holy shit. This is my hundredth post. When you reach a hundred posts, you have to wonder: Where do we go from here? I plan on doing more of the same, which would be making fun of whatever pleases me. Racers, commuters, triathletes, fat people, and hobos beware. IC will be around for a while.
Saturday:
Work. Lame. Though I did ride in with Salvadorian Dali and we played an epic game of Dibs on the way in. The rain came down hard in the afternoon so our day kind of hit a lull. After work, we did the usual. After a few 12-packs, a group of six of us went out for dinner at a local craptastic restaurant. I don't know why we keep going there. The food sucks and I hate margaritas and mojitos. I think the only reason we go there is because we've already marked the restaurant as part of our drinking territory. And much like how dogs leave their mark, I'm sure we've left our fair share of urine and vomit in and around the establishment. Having biked in and not being drunk enough to warrant another night of shop floor slumber, I biked home. I should have taken it easy (the story of my life), but instead I decided to "race the alcohol". At the moment, I still don't know what that means. Maybe I thought that I could beat the drunkeness home before I got even more drunk or that I could just power through the beers and tequila to get to bed as soon as possible. Either way, it was a bad idea. Apparently when you drink alcohol, it gets into your bloodstream somehow and (here's where things get confusing) if you engage in physically strenuous activity, you become more drunk and dehydrated because of your increased heart rate and perspiration. So I went from leaving the shit hole restaurant slightly drunk to arriving at home pretty much entirely wasted. This theory also explains how I almost died on the bike path. What I thought to be giant hazy mass of fog was in actuality a blurry massive tree that fell on the W&OD. While it was the rain the fell the tree on the path, it was definitely the speed and alcohol that made a tree look like fog. Fortunately, my Cat4-like reflexes helped me swerve just barely out of the way and I made it home in one piece, albeit with a few additional pieces of tree attached.
Sunday:
Waking up four and a half hours later (5:45am), I put myself together and drove to Arlington to help the shop set up for the CSC Invitational. For the first time in three years, I wasn't scheduled to wrench at the shop and was able to watch the races. Hangover be damned, it was great to be out there. It would've been great to actually race, but as we all know, racing isn't really my forte. We setup a display tent at the 'expo' directly across from the Rock Racing merchandise titan. They had a huge semi, two 15-foot tents, 3 ugly chicks, 1 hot chick, and a surly guy in a truckers cap. It was somewhat cool to see, even if it was for only for the novelty of seeing a glorified mall storefront. Overshadowing its novelty was the fact that I wanted to kill myself after listening to their Rock Racing commercial for the five millionth time. The best part of the race was seeing racers like Magnus Backstedt, David Clinger, Dominique Rollin, et al. The downside to having a huge bike race in town had to have been all the crazies that came out of the woodwork. This guy was good for a few laughs and stood as a prime example of the type of customers that Cervelo attracts. Assos skinsuit, 'aero' helmet, Camelbak, no bar tape, Zero-G brakes, Campy Record, and Nimble wheels modeled after blender blades. He must have won the prestigious I-have-a-light-bike award, which oddly enough means that he crushed the competition in the Cyclist-without-a-clue contest. He also caught me taking this picture. Oops. He probably thought I had mistaken him for a professional cyclist. The day continued, I chatted up people stopping by our booth, saw a few crashes, and caught up with friends. And just as quickly as it started, the racing and ridicule came to a close. I helped pack up the van, hung out for a bit, had dinner, and went home and happily passed out.
Monday:
Work. Lame. I was the shop's uber-employee. I sold three bikes, wrenched on a couple, and generally ran around an understaffed bike shop as el Chino en Fuego. It was a long day, but there was plenty of beer at the end of the rainbow. I also saw The Strangers. It was a horrible cheap thrill, kind of like when I crash out of races, except a whole lot cheaper (but probably featured the same amount of blood).
Also:
Holy shit. This is my hundredth post. When you reach a hundred posts, you have to wonder: Where do we go from here? I plan on doing more of the same, which would be making fun of whatever pleases me. Racers, commuters, triathletes, fat people, and hobos beware. IC will be around for a while.
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