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After dinner tonight I went out for an hour long ride on my single speed cross bike. The bars are high, the seat is comfortable. It felt pretty good. The air was good, cool and crisp. The ground begs for rain; it is dusty as all hell out there. I saw three elk, first two bucks, and then one female by herself. They all looked at me and ran for the hills.
I guess I’m filling out nicely. I’m shaped like a pear. And to elk, pears are fucking terrifying.
The moon was rising as darkness fell. I thought about nothing save turning over the pedals, a welcome change. Once thing I’m learning, when you’re in recovery mode, only having one gear is pretty cool. None of this “should I shift” nonsense. Just pedal the gear you’re in. Because that’s all there is.
It’s to the point I’m not sure I’d know what to do with twenty odd gears. Probably sit at the edge of the trail and just cry to myself softly. Not like I’m above it.
Link dump:
[vive le tour] nytimes.com
[oh snap] randomdude.com
[bad ass] whitedenimmusic.com
[fuck ann coulter] americablog.com
[how low can you go] tpmmuckraker.com
[happy days] tpmmuckraker.com
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That times article pisses me off so much in the first paragraph I wanna strangle the writer with a rusty chain. Tha reason mlb players don’t get caught for doping is…wait for it…they don’t get tested! Regardless of whether mlb players don’t dope as much as tour participants, who needs to dope when they’re picking their nose in the outfield? How ’bouts 5 hours of pain every day for 18 out of 21 days muthafuckas? Let’s see how soon you resort to the needle. Fuck the media and their fucked perception of life outside their narrow view of normalcy.