What is this large, bulbous protrusion just below my chest?
In the DC Metro area, we are still bearing witness to the aftermath of our first winter storm, which brought 2+ feet of snow down upon our unprepared lands. I'll admit that I did join many of the mass in ransacking the local grocery store for bread, milk, hot chocolate, and candy. It was a shit show and some jerk wouldn't leggo my Eggo so I laid the smackdown upon him. This was all before Christmas and there's still piles of snow-turned-ice on the sides of roads and driveways. It's all coated in that sickly gray mixture of sand, salt, and exhaust fumes that make you wonder how you could have ever seen a childhood winter wonderland at all in the craptastic muck.
Which brings me back to the round bump below my chest. As it turns out, that would be my big, fat belly. While I probably still won't be picked for The Bigger Loser, I did gain a few lbs over the break. All those heavy meats and sweet treats took a devastating toll on my waistline and my ability to stay awake after eating them. All that time food-napping meant that something had to give and with the weather being as crappy and frigid as it has been, my motivation to ride bikes has been whittled down considerably. Losing whatever "fitness" I had during 'cross season, I have to start over again. On the rollers. God, I hate the rollers. But unlike last year, I will attack them with a steely diligence. I will be so disciplined in my winter riding this year that I will face and stare at a blank wall all winter and like it. No music. No movies. Just a wall. Maybe I'll put a poster up. I was thinking of getting one of a plain red brick wall or maybe a section of the Berlin wall that doesn't have too much graffiti on it.
Actually, wait. This sounds a lot like a New Year's resolution. And writing this blog post has the familiarity of desperate procrastination. I think the top button of my uncomfortably tight pants just shot off and punctured a hole in my tire. Great. Just what I need; another thing keeping me from the wonderful world of roller riding. That and my worthless jelly legs.
Showing newest posts with label fat. Show older posts
Showing newest posts with label fat. Show older posts
Monday, January 4, 2010
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Bridging the Gaps: Looking Back, Forward, and Fat
Apparently it's a new year. I know this because someone about a week ago said something to that effect and tried to kiss me. I quickly stiff-armed her in the face and continued drinking. But there were more clues, other than greasy facial hand-prints and angry women, that have helped my discover this amazing revelation:
Back:
People seem to be talking a lot about what happened last year. Boring things like politics, economy, and the monotonous drone of banished riders verbally repenting for their doping ways. If I were to look back, I'd see a lot of road rash, beer, and broken bicycles and think "Not bad, Idiot. Not bad."
Forward:
Talk about the past inevitably leads to talk about the future. If you filter out the normal, boring stuff, you'll most likely be reading about pro rider's 2009 goals. Other riders are anxious to return to the peleton after serving their sentences for controlled substances or general stupidity. Oh and CyclingNews is finally giving their website a facelift. w00t! (Pez did too, but I don't really care)
Fat:
Who's fat? Everyone's fat! Every fucking TV commercial is about weight loss, dieting, supplements, health, and body image. It tends to create a lot of confusion and self-loathing when I'm watching the boob tube, especially when Top Chef is on. What am I doing this year about my weight? Well, I just renewed my USCF license. I think that's good enough. In fact, it's actually too good a solution to leading a healthy lifestyle. So this year I'm also going to adopt a new motto: Just Add Bacon. (Chewy, not crispy)
Oh, and happy new years!
Back:
People seem to be talking a lot about what happened last year. Boring things like politics, economy, and the monotonous drone of banished riders verbally repenting for their doping ways. If I were to look back, I'd see a lot of road rash, beer, and broken bicycles and think "Not bad, Idiot. Not bad."
Forward:
Talk about the past inevitably leads to talk about the future. If you filter out the normal, boring stuff, you'll most likely be reading about pro rider's 2009 goals. Other riders are anxious to return to the peleton after serving their sentences for controlled substances or general stupidity. Oh and CyclingNews is finally giving their website a facelift. w00t! (Pez did too, but I don't really care)
Fat:
Who's fat? Everyone's fat! Every fucking TV commercial is about weight loss, dieting, supplements, health, and body image. It tends to create a lot of confusion and self-loathing when I'm watching the boob tube, especially when Top Chef is on. What am I doing this year about my weight? Well, I just renewed my USCF license. I think that's good enough. In fact, it's actually too good a solution to leading a healthy lifestyle. So this year I'm also going to adopt a new motto: Just Add Bacon. (Chewy, not crispy)
Oh, and happy new years!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Winter Breaked
Don't tell anyone this, but I've been growing out my leg hair. It's too cold outside and shaving is just too much of a burden. Also, it's becoming increasingly more difficult to hide the fact that my legs have not only lost any semblance of definition they might have had, but have atrophied to the point where I look like a frozen dumpling on chopstick stilts. Yeah. It's a little embarrassing.
As you can tell, I've been neglecting my riding and blog for quite some time now. This holiday season has taken its toll on my cycling lifestyle and the humor/cynicism usually associated with it. Since drunken fixie rides don't count, it has been a few weeks since I've properly ridden a bicycle. Instead, I've been spending my time "out." Below I have listed a few things I might or might not have done instead of riding bikes. Guess which ones are true.
1- Drunkenly chatted with a pair of random girls at Stupid Bar #2. I only remember complaining about the shitty cover band that was belting out the worst Bon Jovi jams ever (all of them). Oh, yeah and apparently they were professional dancers for some dance company/institute in DC. I have no idea which one; I was too drunk.
2- Sat in baller-ass VIP seats at the Verizon Center with Captain Doctor, The Boss, and Squirrely McCheese. Seats that included center-court Row B seats behind the announcers table and a 300-level suite. Also, I ate ravioli that night while listening to TB and CD's sexually-explicit advances toward each other at the dinner table. Example:
TB: [something naughty]
-pause-
CD: Oh. Right on!
IC: ...awkward
Also also, apparently squirrels aren't that crazy about cheese, but that's hardly the point is it?
3- Ate foreign and exotic foods, like turkey, ham, steak, lobster, and Big Macs, consistently for over two weeks, although the ratio of Big Macs to Other Foods is very skewed in favor of the late night trips to the Golden Arches.
4- Sat around on my fat ass stuffed to the brim with the aforementioned exotic foods daydreaming about the bikes I want to build, instead of riding one of the five bikes that I actually own.
5- Fought a hobo and broke some expensive bikes at cyclocross nationals. Ok, maybe I didn't do this one, but dammit cycling fights are embarassingly funny. I really want there to be an epic Braveheart-style battle between triathletes and cyclists. I'd be the evil horseman riding a downhill bike with full body armor crushing every aero helmet in sight and any poor carb-counting soul that resided in it. I'd probably sustain a few injuries, like getting slapped in the face with a swim cap or googles.
As you can tell, I've been neglecting my riding and blog for quite some time now. This holiday season has taken its toll on my cycling lifestyle and the humor/cynicism usually associated with it. Since drunken fixie rides don't count, it has been a few weeks since I've properly ridden a bicycle. Instead, I've been spending my time "out." Below I have listed a few things I might or might not have done instead of riding bikes. Guess which ones are true.
1- Drunkenly chatted with a pair of random girls at Stupid Bar #2. I only remember complaining about the shitty cover band that was belting out the worst Bon Jovi jams ever (all of them). Oh, yeah and apparently they were professional dancers for some dance company/institute in DC. I have no idea which one; I was too drunk.
2- Sat in baller-ass VIP seats at the Verizon Center with Captain Doctor, The Boss, and Squirrely McCheese. Seats that included center-court Row B seats behind the announcers table and a 300-level suite. Also, I ate ravioli that night while listening to TB and CD's sexually-explicit advances toward each other at the dinner table. Example:
TB: [something naughty]
-pause-
CD: Oh. Right on!
IC: ...awkward
Also also, apparently squirrels aren't that crazy about cheese, but that's hardly the point is it?
3- Ate foreign and exotic foods, like turkey, ham, steak, lobster, and Big Macs, consistently for over two weeks, although the ratio of Big Macs to Other Foods is very skewed in favor of the late night trips to the Golden Arches.
4- Sat around on my fat ass stuffed to the brim with the aforementioned exotic foods daydreaming about the bikes I want to build, instead of riding one of the five bikes that I actually own.
5- Fought a hobo and broke some expensive bikes at cyclocross nationals. Ok, maybe I didn't do this one, but dammit cycling fights are embarassingly funny. I really want there to be an epic Braveheart-style battle between triathletes and cyclists. I'd be the evil horseman riding a downhill bike with full body armor crushing every aero helmet in sight and any poor carb-counting soul that resided in it. I'd probably sustain a few injuries, like getting slapped in the face with a swim cap or googles.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
'Tis The Season
I just woke up from my Thanksgiving Day food coma. Writing this blog post just seemed appropriate. That and trying to do some cross training in the form of raking the leaves. Yes, I know. It's December already and the leaves have been down for several weeks now, but I feel like I can produce the maximum amount of watts when the leaves are all heavy from the extreme frosting they got the night before. That sounded awkward. But I guess a lot of things do in the not-so-off-season.
It looks like a few pro teams are having their first training camps to prepare for 2009. Saxo Bank. chose to dump their riders into freezing cold Danish waters and gave them guns. Yikes! I think I'd rather hang with the Garmin-Chipotle guys, play paintball, and drink beer at altitude. (er... ride bikes at altitude?). Whatever it is, it's gotta be better than being a skinny cyclist freak in Spain right now.
Yes. Road racers often do odd things in the (not-so) off-season, not least of which is buying road bikes with extra mud clearance and knobby tires and riding in the ice cold wind, mud, and rain. Good thing it has a cool name; "Cyclocross". It's like a religious tornado, and depending on the day, will make you curse or thank the heavens. But like all good things, the 'cross season is coming to an end. Hilariously, I have my second and last race in the near future. After that, I'm not quite sure what I'll do with myself. There are the obvious options (hibernate, drink, get fat), the healthier options (be cold, ride a bike, don't drink), and stupid options (going to the gym, running, pilates). Considering my current track record, I'll have an off-season plan nailed down by April or May, which works perfectly with my plan to avoid riding the trainer or rollers this winter. Success!
In the meantime, I'm going to try to rebutton my pants to hide my turkey day paunch. Next year, I'll just sit at the dinner table in my stretchiest pair of bibs shorts. Family photos be damned. I'll be comfy as shit!
It looks like a few pro teams are having their first training camps to prepare for 2009. Saxo Bank. chose to dump their riders into freezing cold Danish waters and gave them guns. Yikes! I think I'd rather hang with the Garmin-Chipotle guys, play paintball, and drink beer at altitude. (er... ride bikes at altitude?). Whatever it is, it's gotta be better than being a skinny cyclist freak in Spain right now.
Yes. Road racers often do odd things in the (not-so) off-season, not least of which is buying road bikes with extra mud clearance and knobby tires and riding in the ice cold wind, mud, and rain. Good thing it has a cool name; "Cyclocross". It's like a religious tornado, and depending on the day, will make you curse or thank the heavens. But like all good things, the 'cross season is coming to an end. Hilariously, I have my second and last race in the near future. After that, I'm not quite sure what I'll do with myself. There are the obvious options (hibernate, drink, get fat), the healthier options (be cold, ride a bike, don't drink), and stupid options (going to the gym, running, pilates). Considering my current track record, I'll have an off-season plan nailed down by April or May, which works perfectly with my plan to avoid riding the trainer or rollers this winter. Success!
In the meantime, I'm going to try to rebutton my pants to hide my turkey day paunch. Next year, I'll just sit at the dinner table in my stretchiest pair of bibs shorts. Family photos be damned. I'll be comfy as shit!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Days Off
Friday, I spent my day off getting my car fixed up and legal to drive. After a new battery, inspection, and renewed registration, my wallet was $300 lighter and my hoopdie, the first car I've ever owned and the love of my automotive life, was a pretty happy camper. Granted, she still needs a clutch (and probably a new engine), but it's fun to be driving a small, light, manual car again. What the car really needs is a roof rack, but I'll pretty much settle on any means of bicycle-on-automobile transportation short of paying a sherpa to sit on the roof with my bike and gear strapped to his back. I don't have anything against Tibetans per se, but my car's engine would struggle to haul even his diminutive body weight around. And just like that I have another reason to buy a lighter bike (or a bigger engine)!
Not exactly the best day off. Making my car happy made my bikes upset. Inanimate objects don't usually scare me, but my bikes outnumber me and their numbers are still growing. The mountain bike is getting especially restless and I'm afraid that she might leave me. This is also strike two for fun on days off. I first struck out last Tuesday when I was stuck in the Ikea Maze of Hell for six hours. Naturally, after each strike out I choose to block out* those horrid memories by drinking ridiculous amounts of alcohol to the point where I couldn't ride a bike even if I wanted to. But as with most things this Idiot does, this method of "dealing" with my problems makes riding bikes later on all the more painful, especially now that my legs have atrophied to the point where soon Yao Ming will soon be using them as chopsticks.
A Note on the DMV:
I know everyone complains about going to the DMV. It sucks ass. There are always weird smells, crying babies, and faces to be punched. But it works as a serious negative incentive for motorists to drive more carefully, keep there cars in running order, and generally be more responsible on the road. What would happen if there was a Department of Human-powered Vehicles?
Endnotes:
* blackout
Not exactly the best day off. Making my car happy made my bikes upset. Inanimate objects don't usually scare me, but my bikes outnumber me and their numbers are still growing. The mountain bike is getting especially restless and I'm afraid that she might leave me. This is also strike two for fun on days off. I first struck out last Tuesday when I was stuck in the Ikea Maze of Hell for six hours. Naturally, after each strike out I choose to block out* those horrid memories by drinking ridiculous amounts of alcohol to the point where I couldn't ride a bike even if I wanted to. But as with most things this Idiot does, this method of "dealing" with my problems makes riding bikes later on all the more painful, especially now that my legs have atrophied to the point where soon Yao Ming will soon be using them as chopsticks.
A Note on the DMV:
I know everyone complains about going to the DMV. It sucks ass. There are always weird smells, crying babies, and faces to be punched. But it works as a serious negative incentive for motorists to drive more carefully, keep there cars in running order, and generally be more responsible on the road. What would happen if there was a Department of Human-powered Vehicles?
Endnotes:
* blackout
Monday, January 21, 2008
Bumper Stickers
You know how some people hate bumper stickers? They have the whole "I don't want to know what people's opinions are" attitude. I'm pretty much indifferent to this concept. It's someone's personal property and if they want it to look like a New York billboard with tourettes so be it. However, I do understand that these complaints aren't unfounded. They can be relatively offensive and are guaranteed to be obnoxious. Personally, I don't really care if someone's little brat is on honor role at ADHD Elementary or if you'd rather be fishing, bowling, hunting, or clubbing baby seals. Whether or not they get on your nerves, bumper stickers do get you thinking a little.
I would consider my bike to be my primary mode of transportation and bumper stickers got me thinking about what I'd like people to know about me when I ride. Some slogans that come to mind would be clichés like "my other bike is a bike", "$0.00/gal.", and "Hey, fuck you". Still, I don't think its really necessary. Cyclists are pretty transparent as far as their message to the world is concerned. A commuter riding in the hard winter months usually comes off as "hardcore" or "dedicated". BMXers are seen as the punk kids of the group; jumping around here and there. Road racers tend to be the more "serious" of the bunch, focusing on power output, cadence, heart rate, and ball (bearing) size. Images of mountain bikers vary from the go-fast superlight XCers to the daredevil, 'gnarly' downhill/freeriders. Aesthetics can tell you a lot about why and how a person rides, but sometimes you get mixed messages.
Fat riders
Fat riders are a funny lot. That's not to say that I always ridicule overweight people when they exercise, though sometimes I might dangle a pint of ice cream in front of their face. Fat riders are like the penguins of the cycling world. They're not particularly speedy and are fun to watch in certain situations (i.e. Cat 5 races). Things get especially entertaining when their bikes cost more than their squared weight in kilograms; a common measurement in the cycling industry known as Idiot Cyvant's Fat Rich Ignorant Cyclist Ratio (or the FRIC's ratio for short). Violators of the FRICs ratio can typically be seen stylishly clothed in a Assos or DeMarchi XXL kit or wearing which ever ProTour team kit that has Colnago or Pinarello on the jersey despite not being able to pronounce the team's name ("CASE Dee PargNEE?"). Nothing but the best graces these bikes from full Campy Record to integrated carbon fiber bar and stem. Even weight-restricted carbon-Ti pedals are a must for FRICs, who disregard those weight limits as only pertaining to people that actually get out of their saddle when they ride and aren't hoisted onto the saddle via forklift.
Recumbent riders
Ok, so some might have back problems, but a majority of them are just abnormal. Its like they're little kids pretending to travel in pedal-powered space pods. Cycling can be a pretty relaxed sport, but what's next? Bicycle laser tag? Carbon fiber E-Z Boy recumbents? I bet I could make a pretty penny inviting all the area recumbent riders to a velodrome for some night-time, psychedelic, Star Wars theme 'battle' of the geeks. They'd all swarm around the track going "ppeewwww! pewww!" and point at each other as if shooting fake photon beams. I'd be the Death Star and pick off these 'cyclists' with a paintball gun. May the force be with you, dork.
'Rest'-bar riders
Its time to change it up a bit. Complaining about triathletes can get tiresome. Sometimes you have to point the finger at everyone else with aerobars. I know its hard to identify the differences between a non-competitive triathlete and someone who just looks funny riding their bikes. Clip-on aerobars are no longer a telltale sign of someone who enters into supposed 'race' events. Hardcore recreationalists now choose to add aerobars to their arsenal of comfort equipment, which rounds out a list including 'suspension' forks, elastomer wishbone seatstays, bar phat, ergonomic grips, miniature pogo sticks that double as seatposts, and saddles that double as floatation devices.
Each of these riders choose to say something outside of the ordinary. Considering the fact that cycling isn't really a mainstream sport in this country, their ability to go outside of the norms that even most cyclists adhere to really is a testament to their audacious nature. They are the fat, the recumbent, and the relaxed. They are the bumper stickers of the cycling world. Some people hate them (I know I do on occasion), but they are a necessary reminder to all of us not to take cycling too seriously and that it's ok to be a little ridiculous.
I would consider my bike to be my primary mode of transportation and bumper stickers got me thinking about what I'd like people to know about me when I ride. Some slogans that come to mind would be clichés like "my other bike is a bike", "$0.00/gal.", and "Hey, fuck you". Still, I don't think its really necessary. Cyclists are pretty transparent as far as their message to the world is concerned. A commuter riding in the hard winter months usually comes off as "hardcore" or "dedicated". BMXers are seen as the punk kids of the group; jumping around here and there. Road racers tend to be the more "serious" of the bunch, focusing on power output, cadence, heart rate, and ball (bearing) size. Images of mountain bikers vary from the go-fast superlight XCers to the daredevil, 'gnarly' downhill/freeriders. Aesthetics can tell you a lot about why and how a person rides, but sometimes you get mixed messages.
Fat riders
Fat riders are a funny lot. That's not to say that I always ridicule overweight people when they exercise, though sometimes I might dangle a pint of ice cream in front of their face. Fat riders are like the penguins of the cycling world. They're not particularly speedy and are fun to watch in certain situations (i.e. Cat 5 races). Things get especially entertaining when their bikes cost more than their squared weight in kilograms; a common measurement in the cycling industry known as Idiot Cyvant's Fat Rich Ignorant Cyclist Ratio (or the FRIC's ratio for short). Violators of the FRICs ratio can typically be seen stylishly clothed in a Assos or DeMarchi XXL kit or wearing which ever ProTour team kit that has Colnago or Pinarello on the jersey despite not being able to pronounce the team's name ("CASE Dee PargNEE?"). Nothing but the best graces these bikes from full Campy Record to integrated carbon fiber bar and stem. Even weight-restricted carbon-Ti pedals are a must for FRICs, who disregard those weight limits as only pertaining to people that actually get out of their saddle when they ride and aren't hoisted onto the saddle via forklift.
Recumbent riders
Ok, so some might have back problems, but a majority of them are just abnormal. Its like they're little kids pretending to travel in pedal-powered space pods. Cycling can be a pretty relaxed sport, but what's next? Bicycle laser tag? Carbon fiber E-Z Boy recumbents? I bet I could make a pretty penny inviting all the area recumbent riders to a velodrome for some night-time, psychedelic, Star Wars theme 'battle' of the geeks. They'd all swarm around the track going "ppeewwww! pewww!" and point at each other as if shooting fake photon beams. I'd be the Death Star and pick off these 'cyclists' with a paintball gun. May the force be with you, dork.
'Rest'-bar riders
Its time to change it up a bit. Complaining about triathletes can get tiresome. Sometimes you have to point the finger at everyone else with aerobars. I know its hard to identify the differences between a non-competitive triathlete and someone who just looks funny riding their bikes. Clip-on aerobars are no longer a telltale sign of someone who enters into supposed 'race' events. Hardcore recreationalists now choose to add aerobars to their arsenal of comfort equipment, which rounds out a list including 'suspension' forks, elastomer wishbone seatstays, bar phat, ergonomic grips, miniature pogo sticks that double as seatposts, and saddles that double as floatation devices.
Each of these riders choose to say something outside of the ordinary. Considering the fact that cycling isn't really a mainstream sport in this country, their ability to go outside of the norms that even most cyclists adhere to really is a testament to their audacious nature. They are the fat, the recumbent, and the relaxed. They are the bumper stickers of the cycling world. Some people hate them (I know I do on occasion), but they are a necessary reminder to all of us not to take cycling too seriously and that it's ok to be a little ridiculous.
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