Big Bikes

Freakin' Foto Friday

In December drinking horchata
I'd look psychotic in a balaclava
Winter's cold is too much to handle
Pincher crabs that pinch at your sandals

- Vampire Weekend

Long week, swimming has left me shelled. But it's a good kind of tired. I'm tired like a little kid, aching muscles without the aching bones and joints. Swimming gives you that pure beat-down, not like the bike beat-down where you feel satisfied but just totally wrecked and hurt. My body is humming right now, I can barely lift my feet off the floor. It's great.

I can't imagine having a cycling coach like this swimming coach. Someone there at the wall to tell you "if you take too long between sets, I'm gonna put you on the clock!" And, when I slip off the bathroom for a wee, "I saw that, you owe me 200!" I also can't imagine doing such structured, arduous workouts. I mean, I've done intervals on the bike but not like this...not like this. Help me.


The Fiddler Crab Chronicles
My pedaling was less Fiddler Crabbish today, thanks to a session with Ruben Millor of Big Hands Massage Therapy. We sat and talked for a long time about my issues. It was more like talking to a Psychiatrist than a massage therapist. He saw right off the bat that I was sitting crooked in the chair and we went from there. My hips were way off kilter. By the end of the session I was in much better alignment and on today's ride I could really feel the difference. More on that later, gotta go, my face has an appointment with my pillow.

I leave you with photos from last Friday's run out South Natick with M and my sister. The beautiful sunset almost made running worth it. Almost.