Fallin

No end in sight to the mungy weather. Kinda sucks. I’ve actually started to turn the corner a bit, mentally that is, on getting out on some road rides. I’ve been such a piece of crap ever since the start of June. Funny thing is I’m still ahead of last years miles by a healthy margin. Motivation to ride in the heat has been my downfall.

I dream in my sleep about walking outside and taking a deep breathe and feeling that fresh crisp chilly air fill my lungs. Nothing like it. 2 months. Mid-September to mid-November. More if were lucky. Isn’t it ironic that everything I find myself getting fired up about happens in the Fall. ‘Cross. Football. Hockey. Playoff Baseball. Turkey (the best holiday!).

Instead I will attempt to ride today in an already miserable temp of 91 just before noon. Tomorrow? Forget it. 102 is forecasted. Wednesday? 100. I’m not too disappointed that I’ll be working 4 straight 10hr days the rest of the week. By the time I have off Saturday it looks like it might be pretty decent.

I’m disappointed in all the bloggers who, after regaling us with countless “I remember when Floyd……..” stories, have not blessed us with needle sharing stories or blood swapping stories from back in the day. As I said in an earlier post, they’re ALL doing it. Only the ones who get caught are guilty. As great of a story as Floyd is/was, c’mon, are you really surprised? You’re more naive than I thought. I do wish Schmeg would shut his cake hole. The media always seeks out the biggest whiny cry-baby cycling has ever seen for a quick quote or three. I think we can all agree on this, we’re not interested.

5 weeks to go until we close Holmes’ at 7pm. Nice. I guess that also means its time for me to start thinking about a b-day gift for The Wifey. How will I outdo myself this time? And will there be another crab feast at Casa Hebe to co-celebrate? What is it this year Mike? 39??!!! You can’t possibly convince me that it was already a year ago Seve lifted his skirt and showed off his girlie-parts while playing Croquet. Sissy. I’m bitter and broken. Is there any honor in knowing I played like a man. I played to win, not to lose.

L8