Big Bikes

Whenever I return to Boston from afar,
the first thing I do is a get a "Regular Coffee" at Dunkin Donuts.

Let's Get Face Down to The Brass Facts

We're not getting paid to do this. If you are getting paid to do this (and by this I mean ride a bike competitively) I am honored that you are reading this (and by this I mean a blog that will fill your head with so many crazy-bad ideas that you won't be able to help but get slower just looking at it. Oops, if you've read this much you're already screwed, might as well keep reading). What this means is that we shouldn't take it so f-in seriously.

I spent High School Math class daydreaming, designing skate parks, which I would build from stolen lumber without using a measuring tape or a level. I spent Science class drawing caricatures of the teacher farting and getting bit about the genitals by turtles. No wonder that when I come home from a bike ride I don't want to crunch a bunch of numbers and analyze data. Hey, if that's what's fun about riding a bike to you, knock yourself out. It's just not my cup of energy drink that tastes strongly of something you swish around your mouth at the Dentist's office.

Looking at the wattage or heart rate numbers my body produces during a ride seems about as fun as reading a guide book about Peru while sitting in a hotel room...in Peru.

Sorry, time out. I'm watching all the Tour of California I recorded on my VHS recorder while I was away. They're going up the Tunitas Creek climb near Palo Alto. I've done the thing a couple times, it is magnificent. What I feel right now is akin to what a starving man feels looking in the window of a Waffle House. But god, they make it look so damn easy. Outstanding.

Anyway.
If you're new to the sport, just go ride your bike. Ride your bike with faster people. Get hurt. Go too hard. Bonk. Find your limits. Next time you're up against them, ignore the flashing red lights. Shatter yourself. Ride home in your granny gear - on flat ground, then pull a chair into your cupboard and eat until you feel sick. Let your fitness come up as your skills increase. Buy new equipment as your break it. Don't upgrade it until you earn it. Look like an idiot, a barney, a Fred and then rock the shit!

Enjoy the act. When I was kid my buddy would say "Hey, you wanna go ride bikes after school". That's what we'd do, ride around the neighborhood on our Sears bought Columbia Apaches with their banana seats and chopper bars, no plan whatsoever. Jamming our toes in-between our tires and our fork crowns to do ghetto endos, sometimes getting it stuck, landing on our lips with our foot still wedged in there, our legs twisted at obscene angles. We'd do skids. We'd put a board on a chunk of telephone pole and jump over a trash can. We'd eat shit, we'd get hurt, it was funner than hell.

I'm trying to get myself stoked as much as anyone. I am guilty of losing focus of the fun. Focus. Not on nutrition, abstaining from beer, or the numbers. Focus on the fun. On the act.

Let's go ride bikes.