Wednesday, May 05, 2010
By request - Hot Dog Update.
april 27th - 15, 393, 405
april 28th - 9, 402, 420
april 29th - 25, 427, 435
april 30th - 23, 450, 450
48 in last 2 days....
Winner winner hot dog dinner.
Commemorated with this...
april 28th - 9, 402, 420
april 29th - 25, 427, 435
april 30th - 23, 450, 450
48 in last 2 days....
Winner winner hot dog dinner.
Commemorated with this...
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Turkey Hill Observations
Turkey Hill has been around 11 years in its current incarnation and we did it a couple of years as a stand alone event. But I think this year's event marked a transitional change for cycling in the Mid-Atlantic region.
The breakaway of 6 riders at yesterdays race was comprised of 5 riders under 25 years old, with the winner, Jackie Simes at 21 years old. And the money spots were devoid of past winners and THCC regulars. ( See Laudien Power Rankings for further evidence of the youth movement )
Its a bittersweet feeling to see these young guys making their way into the standings. The sweet being the fact that the sport continues to grow and cultivate talent for the future. Bitter in realization ( or admitting) that father time has finally had its way with us, and the Trdinas, Millers, Blacks, and sooner or later the Kincaids of the world are going to have to step aside for this youth movement and the take their show to the masters race.
I watched the last 6 laps of the race from the wheel truck and at as good as these young guys are, it apparent that they lack tactical experience. For 30+ miles 5 of the breakaway riders let Mike Chauner sit on without taking a real pull. They didn't harass him, or attack him or anything. They just let him sit back there getting a free ride to the finish.
Now perhaps Chauner promised that he wouldn't sprint, or said that he was tired, or whatever...that's not really relevant. Even the road worker, who watches exactly one bike race a year, said to me...they really don't think he's not going to sprint past him at the end. Ethics or character aside. If you let a guy sit on your for 30+ miles and then don't get rid of him...that on you.
Post race, I realized that the problem is that those guys have no idea how to deal with a guy sitting on. When that happens there are a few approaches that work.
The first is that you just sit up and get caught. Yesterday I wouldn't have considered that an option. It was a good group, Kelly was controlling the field, and that threat wouldn't have bothers Chauner...his chances are pretty good in a sprint as well.
There's the option of attacking him. The two teammates ( forgive me I don't have names since the results aren't up) in the break did that...finally. But after a guy sits on for the last 5 laps while you've been pulling your ass off, its unlikely that an attack or two in the last 3 miles is going to do anything except tire yourself out. Chauner just rode tempo from the river to the finish and neutralized all of the attacks.
The third option is what that should have done and that is take him off the back. for anyone who grew up in a club system or watched classics pre-EPO its a standard tactic. But in modern cycling its gone the way of echelon riding....a lost art. Simply what the guys should have done is every time one of them came to the back of the line and Chauner didn't pull through, they should have let a gap form to the back of the breakaway. Once the gap got to 30 yards, they should sprint back to the back of the break. Then the next rider does the same thing. After a half dozen rotations, everyone will have to put in one extra hard sprint, but over that same period the rider sitting on would have to put on 5 extra hard efforts. In very short order, the offending rider will realize that its just a lot easier to rotate through.
Anyway, congrats to the riders, and hats off to Turkey Hill and the race organizers for a superbly run, successful event.
The breakaway of 6 riders at yesterdays race was comprised of 5 riders under 25 years old, with the winner, Jackie Simes at 21 years old. And the money spots were devoid of past winners and THCC regulars. ( See Laudien Power Rankings for further evidence of the youth movement )
Its a bittersweet feeling to see these young guys making their way into the standings. The sweet being the fact that the sport continues to grow and cultivate talent for the future. Bitter in realization ( or admitting) that father time has finally had its way with us, and the Trdinas, Millers, Blacks, and sooner or later the Kincaids of the world are going to have to step aside for this youth movement and the take their show to the masters race.
I watched the last 6 laps of the race from the wheel truck and at as good as these young guys are, it apparent that they lack tactical experience. For 30+ miles 5 of the breakaway riders let Mike Chauner sit on without taking a real pull. They didn't harass him, or attack him or anything. They just let him sit back there getting a free ride to the finish.
Now perhaps Chauner promised that he wouldn't sprint, or said that he was tired, or whatever...that's not really relevant. Even the road worker, who watches exactly one bike race a year, said to me...they really don't think he's not going to sprint past him at the end. Ethics or character aside. If you let a guy sit on your for 30+ miles and then don't get rid of him...that on you.
Post race, I realized that the problem is that those guys have no idea how to deal with a guy sitting on. When that happens there are a few approaches that work.
The first is that you just sit up and get caught. Yesterday I wouldn't have considered that an option. It was a good group, Kelly was controlling the field, and that threat wouldn't have bothers Chauner...his chances are pretty good in a sprint as well.
There's the option of attacking him. The two teammates ( forgive me I don't have names since the results aren't up) in the break did that...finally. But after a guy sits on for the last 5 laps while you've been pulling your ass off, its unlikely that an attack or two in the last 3 miles is going to do anything except tire yourself out. Chauner just rode tempo from the river to the finish and neutralized all of the attacks.
The third option is what that should have done and that is take him off the back. for anyone who grew up in a club system or watched classics pre-EPO its a standard tactic. But in modern cycling its gone the way of echelon riding....a lost art. Simply what the guys should have done is every time one of them came to the back of the line and Chauner didn't pull through, they should have let a gap form to the back of the breakaway. Once the gap got to 30 yards, they should sprint back to the back of the break. Then the next rider does the same thing. After a half dozen rotations, everyone will have to put in one extra hard sprint, but over that same period the rider sitting on would have to put on 5 extra hard efforts. In very short order, the offending rider will realize that its just a lot easier to rotate through.
Anyway, congrats to the riders, and hats off to Turkey Hill and the race organizers for a superbly run, successful event.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
hot dog update
I ate 4 hot dogs around 4 am after drinking a little bit tonight. My total is at 397 which = 53 more to go in the next 3 days.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Hot Dog !
In the poker forums I guy bet $1000 to win $1500 that he could eat 450 hot dogs in the month of April.
hot dog consumption, day-by-day status
date/amount/total/ED
april 1st - 17, 17, 15
april 2nd - 18, 35, 30
april 3rd - 15, 50, 45
april 4th - 13, 63, 60
april 5th - 14, 77, 75
april 6th - 13.5, 90.5, 90
april 7th - 13.5, 104, 105
april 8th - 12, 116, 120
april 9th - 15, 131, 135
april 10th - 12, 143, 150
april 11th - 17, 160, 165
april 12th - 11, 171, 180
april 13th - 10, 181, 195
april 14th - 19, 200, 210
april 15th - 8, 208, 225
april 16th - 14, 222, 240
april 17th - 17, 239, 255
april 18th - 18, 257, 270
april 19th - 18, 275, 285
april 20th - 16, 291, 300
april 21st - 6, 297, 315
april 22nd - 16, 309, 330
april 23rd - 19, 328, 345
april 24th - 18, 346, 360
april 25th - 9, 355, 375
he has had 11 on april 26th already, which is solid.
4.5 day and 84 to go. Should be close.
http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/54/poker-beats-brags-variance/hot-dog-prop-bet-april-1st-30th-749434/
hot dog consumption, day-by-day status
date/amount/total/ED
april 1st - 17, 17, 15
april 2nd - 18, 35, 30
april 3rd - 15, 50, 45
april 4th - 13, 63, 60
april 5th - 14, 77, 75
april 6th - 13.5, 90.5, 90
april 7th - 13.5, 104, 105
april 8th - 12, 116, 120
april 9th - 15, 131, 135
april 10th - 12, 143, 150
april 11th - 17, 160, 165
april 12th - 11, 171, 180
april 13th - 10, 181, 195
april 14th - 19, 200, 210
april 15th - 8, 208, 225
april 16th - 14, 222, 240
april 17th - 17, 239, 255
april 18th - 18, 257, 270
april 19th - 18, 275, 285
april 20th - 16, 291, 300
april 21st - 6, 297, 315
april 22nd - 16, 309, 330
april 23rd - 19, 328, 345
april 24th - 18, 346, 360
april 25th - 9, 355, 375
he has had 11 on april 26th already, which is solid.
4.5 day and 84 to go. Should be close.
http://forumserver.twoplustwo.com/54/poker-beats-brags-variance/hot-dog-prop-bet-april-1st-30th-749434/
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday's golf
You may have heard this:
Something seemed very wrong when Brian Davis of England summoned a rules official immediately after hitting his pitch from the hazard near Calibogue Sound in Sunday’s playoff with Jim Furyk for the Verizon Heritage title. Actually, something was very right.
As most of the golf world knows by now, Davis called a two-stroke penalty on himself that cost him the tournament.
He had ever-so-slightly nicked a reed during his backswing while trying to recover from the beach left of the 18th green. Barely moved it. To the naked eye, it was almost invisible. But not to Davis, who was pretty sure he knew what had happened and who called Slugger White of the PGA Tour over to verify his judgment.
While the self-imposed penalty is notable, the truth is that even without the penalty Furyk was likely to win. Davis' shot sailed 25 feet past the hole and he was unlikely to make par anyway.
I thought that what may have been more interesting than the penalty was Davis' decision to play the shot from inside the hazard itself.
For those of you who didn't watch, here was the situation in a nutshell. Davis' shot hit the edge of the green, then rolled off the course and onto a sandy beach. Furyk was obliged to putt first and left his ball 6 feet from the hole and was likely carding a 4.
Davis had two choices:
1. Hit from the hazard...a wet sandy lie with no practice swing..or
2. Take a one stroke penalty and then try to chip/putt it from the green side grass maybe 15 feet from the hole.
From there it becomes (or should have become) an evaluation of percentages.
How many times can he chip it in from 15 feet( 35%)
vs
How many times can he hit up up and then make the putt - Which is a combination of; when he chips it to 10 feet ( 30% of the time) he'll make the putt 80% for a total of 24% PLUS when his chips between 10-20 (30%) he'll make the putt 40% for another 12$; and when he chips is more than 20 feet away (60%) he'll only make it 5% of the time, add 3% for a total of 24 + 12 + 3 = 39% of the time he'll score a 2.
As 39% is higher than 35%, he should play it from the hazard.
Of course I'm making all of those numbers up. But the point is that there's a non-intuitive process by which you can ( and perhaps should) make decisions. Many of those decisions occur in your every day life.
That's the foundation of applied game theory, and also the genesis behind a pretty cool book that I've added to my birthday wish list.
DUCY? Exploits, Advice, and Ideas of the Renowned Strategist by David Sklansy
(DUCY is for Do You See Why)
Something seemed very wrong when Brian Davis of England summoned a rules official immediately after hitting his pitch from the hazard near Calibogue Sound in Sunday’s playoff with Jim Furyk for the Verizon Heritage title. Actually, something was very right.
As most of the golf world knows by now, Davis called a two-stroke penalty on himself that cost him the tournament.
He had ever-so-slightly nicked a reed during his backswing while trying to recover from the beach left of the 18th green. Barely moved it. To the naked eye, it was almost invisible. But not to Davis, who was pretty sure he knew what had happened and who called Slugger White of the PGA Tour over to verify his judgment.
While the self-imposed penalty is notable, the truth is that even without the penalty Furyk was likely to win. Davis' shot sailed 25 feet past the hole and he was unlikely to make par anyway.
I thought that what may have been more interesting than the penalty was Davis' decision to play the shot from inside the hazard itself.
For those of you who didn't watch, here was the situation in a nutshell. Davis' shot hit the edge of the green, then rolled off the course and onto a sandy beach. Furyk was obliged to putt first and left his ball 6 feet from the hole and was likely carding a 4.
Davis had two choices:
1. Hit from the hazard...a wet sandy lie with no practice swing..or
2. Take a one stroke penalty and then try to chip/putt it from the green side grass maybe 15 feet from the hole.
From there it becomes (or should have become) an evaluation of percentages.
How many times can he chip it in from 15 feet( 35%)
vs
How many times can he hit up up and then make the putt - Which is a combination of; when he chips it to 10 feet ( 30% of the time) he'll make the putt 80% for a total of 24% PLUS when his chips between 10-20 (30%) he'll make the putt 40% for another 12$; and when he chips is more than 20 feet away (60%) he'll only make it 5% of the time, add 3% for a total of 24 + 12 + 3 = 39% of the time he'll score a 2.
As 39% is higher than 35%, he should play it from the hazard.
Of course I'm making all of those numbers up. But the point is that there's a non-intuitive process by which you can ( and perhaps should) make decisions. Many of those decisions occur in your every day life.
That's the foundation of applied game theory, and also the genesis behind a pretty cool book that I've added to my birthday wish list.
DUCY? Exploits, Advice, and Ideas of the Renowned Strategist by David Sklansy
(DUCY is for Do You See Why)
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
Rahsaan Bahati is a ninja
Rahsaan Bahati (Bahati Foundation), who was involved in the pile-up, was seen throwing his sunglasses at a rider in the group while standing in the road at the start of the penultimate lap. Bahati¹s glasses caught Andrew Pinfold’s (UnitedHealthcare) front wheel, ripping off his computer receiver.... the computer receiver lodged in his front wheel, slowing Pinfold enough for the Jamis tandem, Cantwell in tow, to surge past on the left side of the road.
If you can render an otherwise fully functional bicycle useless, by throwing your sunglasses at it while it speeds by at 30 mph, then your wasting your talents on bicycle racing.
@ 40 seconds
If you can render an otherwise fully functional bicycle useless, by throwing your sunglasses at it while it speeds by at 30 mph, then your wasting your talents on bicycle racing.
@ 40 seconds
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
Chrome Shoes
I participated in this....very cool.
Hats of...actually shoes off to Chrome Shoes.
Turds for Gold Results !
Hats of...actually shoes off to Chrome Shoes.
Turds for Gold Results !
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
cycling tip of the day
Which was the is wind blowing ?
I love to ask that question to new riders.
If you ask a beginner it takes about 15 seconds for them to think about where it's coming from. If you ask an experienced rider the answer will be immediate...and usually by pointing. I always know where the wind is coming from....even when I'm indoors. But I might be a special case...I hate the friggin' wind in the way that people who have been attacked by dogs don't cry at the end of Ol'Yeller.
If you're a new rider, the first thing you should do is take notice of which direction the wind is blowing, and continue to reassess the direction as conditions change. Sometimes, especially in a pack, the direction will not always be obvious, but I've found that if you look hard enough you can always find cues from things such as flags in peoples yards, smoke from smokestacks, and which way the crops are leaning.
Once you've determined where the wind is, be sure to be on the opposite side of the field from it. Seems obvious enough right ? Often you're better off being further back in the pack and on the good side, than all the way up on the bad side.
When you get to a corner, many times your position relative to the wind will shift. You'll go from wind at your front left over to your back right. Use the accordion effect of the corner to switch your position from one side of the pack to the other. Anticipating these changes in advance of the corner will allow you to save energy and make an easy transition.
Be absolutely sure which was the wind is blowing at the finish. The rule of thumb I used to give juniors I coached was the ride backwards from the finish line in your 53x13 for 65 pedal revolutions and look for some landmark to start your sprint. Add or substract two revolutions for every 1MPH of wind you estimate and start your sprint from that spot.
I love to ask that question to new riders.
If you ask a beginner it takes about 15 seconds for them to think about where it's coming from. If you ask an experienced rider the answer will be immediate...and usually by pointing. I always know where the wind is coming from....even when I'm indoors. But I might be a special case...I hate the friggin' wind in the way that people who have been attacked by dogs don't cry at the end of Ol'Yeller.
If you're a new rider, the first thing you should do is take notice of which direction the wind is blowing, and continue to reassess the direction as conditions change. Sometimes, especially in a pack, the direction will not always be obvious, but I've found that if you look hard enough you can always find cues from things such as flags in peoples yards, smoke from smokestacks, and which way the crops are leaning.
Once you've determined where the wind is, be sure to be on the opposite side of the field from it. Seems obvious enough right ? Often you're better off being further back in the pack and on the good side, than all the way up on the bad side.
When you get to a corner, many times your position relative to the wind will shift. You'll go from wind at your front left over to your back right. Use the accordion effect of the corner to switch your position from one side of the pack to the other. Anticipating these changes in advance of the corner will allow you to save energy and make an easy transition.
Be absolutely sure which was the wind is blowing at the finish. The rule of thumb I used to give juniors I coached was the ride backwards from the finish line in your 53x13 for 65 pedal revolutions and look for some landmark to start your sprint. Add or substract two revolutions for every 1MPH of wind you estimate and start your sprint from that spot.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Mailbag
To PT Paul's comment
I know nothing about the health care bill.
I will, however, bet $100 on the fact that the insurance companies and the pharmaceutical companies will directly benefit from the bill.
The screaming about socialism and death panels, or whatever they're yelling about, is always a smokescreen to keep you from paying attention to what's really going on. And whats always really going on is that big business is securing their place in the world.
Don't worry about insurance companies. If anything you should start buying their stock.
Regarding tactics in training races from earlier in the week
If the team actually raced well on the weekends, then not practicing tactics on Wed. would make sense. But when you have the biggest team and a bunch of good riders, and you can't get a top 3 after May 1st, then something is fundamentally wrong.
College basketball teams don't practice for the tournament by only jacking up three pointers all day.
If half of the GS team raced in last years jersey, half in this years jersey, and everyone treated it like a real race, then it would be a lot of fun, a lot more interesting, and no less hard than it is now. I'd content that if you got some attacking, counter attacking and real chasing then the racing would be harder. Riding around at 26 mph like a giant herd really isn't doing anyone except the (same) 5 guys on the front any good.
The whole " its only a training race thing" is a total cop out for guys who either don't know how to race, who are TWHs*, or are disguising their own ambitions.
Word.
* TWH - Tailwind Heros. The guys who sit in for 3 laps, then when a break goes and there's a pause, they go to the front in the tailwind section and sprint as hard as the can for 26 seconds. I spend most of the night with Jukebox Hero playing in my head but coming up with new words. I'm up to like 37 verses.
I know nothing about the health care bill.
I will, however, bet $100 on the fact that the insurance companies and the pharmaceutical companies will directly benefit from the bill.
The screaming about socialism and death panels, or whatever they're yelling about, is always a smokescreen to keep you from paying attention to what's really going on. And whats always really going on is that big business is securing their place in the world.
Don't worry about insurance companies. If anything you should start buying their stock.
Regarding tactics in training races from earlier in the week
If the team actually raced well on the weekends, then not practicing tactics on Wed. would make sense. But when you have the biggest team and a bunch of good riders, and you can't get a top 3 after May 1st, then something is fundamentally wrong.
College basketball teams don't practice for the tournament by only jacking up three pointers all day.
If half of the GS team raced in last years jersey, half in this years jersey, and everyone treated it like a real race, then it would be a lot of fun, a lot more interesting, and no less hard than it is now. I'd content that if you got some attacking, counter attacking and real chasing then the racing would be harder. Riding around at 26 mph like a giant herd really isn't doing anyone except the (same) 5 guys on the front any good.
The whole " its only a training race thing" is a total cop out for guys who either don't know how to race, who are TWHs*, or are disguising their own ambitions.
Word.
* TWH - Tailwind Heros. The guys who sit in for 3 laps, then when a break goes and there's a pause, they go to the front in the tailwind section and sprint as hard as the can for 26 seconds. I spend most of the night with Jukebox Hero playing in my head but coming up with new words. I'm up to like 37 verses.
Monday, March 22, 2010
NOT about the health care plan
As stated earlier, I don't know anything about the health care plan other than anything that involves this much yelling can only mean that someone has found a new way to screw all of us and now its a mad dash to get to the front of the gang bang train.
So I find it a funny coincidence that I had the following happen to me today.
We'll start last year when my wife started taking Rozeru\em. Rozerem is a mild, no addiictive, no narcotic, sleep aid. Other than Tylenol PM, its about the most benign sleep drug you can get. Fortunately, it worked really well on my wife.
We switched insurance companies and they said, "Rozerem only works on 25% of patients so you have to try Lunesta first". Despite explaining to them that we already knew she was one of the 25% they were unyielding and switched her to the more intense narcotic.
Lets fast forward a year and I've asked for Lunesta. I got a sample from the doctor and tried it a couple of times over the last 3 months. Its not something I'd regularly take, but at stressful times when I can't sleep I've taken one and it helps. So I called the doc and he prescribed me a low dose version.
I just got back from the Pharmacy. The insurance company says that the Lunesta is expensive and they have a better deal for themselves for Ambien. Ambien is a total ass kicker of a drug. Its the stuff that you hear about people sleep driving on....yeah driving while asleep.
I protested and said, " I don't want any kick ass shit, I just want the lowest dose Lunesta please."
Nope. It either have to take most potent stuff out there. That's sort of messed up.
So I find it a funny coincidence that I had the following happen to me today.
We'll start last year when my wife started taking Rozeru\em. Rozerem is a mild, no addiictive, no narcotic, sleep aid. Other than Tylenol PM, its about the most benign sleep drug you can get. Fortunately, it worked really well on my wife.
We switched insurance companies and they said, "Rozerem only works on 25% of patients so you have to try Lunesta first". Despite explaining to them that we already knew she was one of the 25% they were unyielding and switched her to the more intense narcotic.
Lets fast forward a year and I've asked for Lunesta. I got a sample from the doctor and tried it a couple of times over the last 3 months. Its not something I'd regularly take, but at stressful times when I can't sleep I've taken one and it helps. So I called the doc and he prescribed me a low dose version.
I just got back from the Pharmacy. The insurance company says that the Lunesta is expensive and they have a better deal for themselves for Ambien. Ambien is a total ass kicker of a drug. Its the stuff that you hear about people sleep driving on....yeah driving while asleep.
I protested and said, " I don't want any kick ass shit, I just want the lowest dose Lunesta please."
Nope. It either have to take most potent stuff out there. That's sort of messed up.
A peak behind the curtain
Neil Brown, cycling journalist ( and Landis apologist), was on the Spokesman Roundtable last week when the Kornheiser/Armstrong issue came up.
Brown wasn't upset about Kornheiser about what T.K. said. He was mad that T.K. scooped the interview.
Brown stated that he and Road Magazine had spend the year purposely not printing anything inflammatory about Astana so that they could get an interview with Lance Armstrong. In the end, and after having to wait an additional three weeks after scheduling it, all their silence bought them was one brief interview.
He was complaining that Kornheiser didn't play according to the Lance rules but still got an interview, and in three days even ! The horror the horror!
It was weirdly refreshing to hear someone finally admit how "journalism" really works.
Brown wasn't upset about Kornheiser about what T.K. said. He was mad that T.K. scooped the interview.
Brown stated that he and Road Magazine had spend the year purposely not printing anything inflammatory about Astana so that they could get an interview with Lance Armstrong. In the end, and after having to wait an additional three weeks after scheduling it, all their silence bought them was one brief interview.
He was complaining that Kornheiser didn't play according to the Lance rules but still got an interview, and in three days even ! The horror the horror!
It was weirdly refreshing to hear someone finally admit how "journalism" really works.
an interesting quote
I had been on a self prescribe all news (except sports) blackout for the last two weeks. I came out of it this morning to see this:
From Hillary Clinton
"As Israel's friend, it is our responsibility to give credit when it is due and to tell the truth when it is needed," she said in a text of her speech to the American Israel Public Affairs Committee that was released by the State Department.
I would be awesome to know when truth was needed.
Did you see the missionaries who were arrested in Haiti...
1) were taking kids that weren't orphans it turns out, and
2) hired a lawyer or was arrested on Friday on outstanding warrants. He's a fugitive for stealing children in El Salvador, the US, and Canada for sexual purposes.
I've seen my shadow and I'm going back into my hole. If anyone sees and important news please send me a link.
From Hillary Clinton
"As Israel's friend, it is our responsibility to give credit when it is due and to tell the truth when it is needed," she said in a text of her speech to the American Israel Public Affairs Committee that was released by the State Department.
I would be awesome to know when truth was needed.
Did you see the missionaries who were arrested in Haiti...
1) were taking kids that weren't orphans it turns out, and
2) hired a lawyer or was arrested on Friday on outstanding warrants. He's a fugitive for stealing children in El Salvador, the US, and Canada for sexual purposes.
I've seen my shadow and I'm going back into my hole. If anyone sees and important news please send me a link.
Friday, March 19, 2010
FWIW
Dear new riders,
I'd like to save you some time and effort. If the fastest you can go when you're time trialing is 22 mph, and the group you're riding in is going 23 mph, you will not be successful in your attempt at a solo breakaway. This is not an attempt to insult your abilities or desire. Its what we in the business refer to as "simple math".
I may have ridden around the Tuesday night course ( what some of you people refer to was Wednesday Worlds) more than any other human being. This will be my 20th year riding there, plus I used to to intervals over there up to two times a week for about 5 years. There have been times when I've been under a great deal of stress where I break out of some trace and find myself driving my car around the that loop for comfort, like a baby and his woobie. Ok that's not true, I'm just saying that I'm familiar with the route.
The A group goes around that loop on average around 8 minute laps. That's 24.75 mph. The fastest lap I've even done it solo, in training, is 7:50 and that was 1 lap, fresh and with aero bars. So I long ago recognized that a solo effort is obviously impossible. Seeing as the final lap is typically the fastest, you'd really need to be able to ride about a 7:30 ( 26.4) to 7:45 (25.6) final lap in order to hold off the group. For perspective, that would be a 57:30 40KM TT.
Based on the last two years time trial results, the only local riders who would come close to being able to do that would be (in order) Clayton Barrows, Mike Whitaker, Brian Trdina, and Steve May. If you don't see your name on that list, then your chances are grim.
Of course a collective effort is a different story all together. If you can get three or more guys working together then you have a shot. But even that combination needs a few things.
* All the guys still need to be able to roll it pretty damn fast ( 25+)
* All the guys need to actually commit to riding without screwing around
* All the guys need to have some rudimentary idea of how to paceline without accelerating too quickly or pulling off to the wrong side.
Oh yeah, the break cannot have a Spinners/GS Lancaster presented by Thru-It-All(tm) rider in it. The only thing that makes that team chase a breakaway faster is if it has one of its own teammates in it.
So to recap; If you want to win Wednesday Worlds, either
A)be Brian Trdina or
B)wait for the sprint and hope Shebelsky gets a flat.
I'd like to save you some time and effort. If the fastest you can go when you're time trialing is 22 mph, and the group you're riding in is going 23 mph, you will not be successful in your attempt at a solo breakaway. This is not an attempt to insult your abilities or desire. Its what we in the business refer to as "simple math".
I may have ridden around the Tuesday night course ( what some of you people refer to was Wednesday Worlds) more than any other human being. This will be my 20th year riding there, plus I used to to intervals over there up to two times a week for about 5 years. There have been times when I've been under a great deal of stress where I break out of some trace and find myself driving my car around the that loop for comfort, like a baby and his woobie. Ok that's not true, I'm just saying that I'm familiar with the route.
The A group goes around that loop on average around 8 minute laps. That's 24.75 mph. The fastest lap I've even done it solo, in training, is 7:50 and that was 1 lap, fresh and with aero bars. So I long ago recognized that a solo effort is obviously impossible. Seeing as the final lap is typically the fastest, you'd really need to be able to ride about a 7:30 ( 26.4) to 7:45 (25.6) final lap in order to hold off the group. For perspective, that would be a 57:30 40KM TT.
Based on the last two years time trial results, the only local riders who would come close to being able to do that would be (in order) Clayton Barrows, Mike Whitaker, Brian Trdina, and Steve May. If you don't see your name on that list, then your chances are grim.
Of course a collective effort is a different story all together. If you can get three or more guys working together then you have a shot. But even that combination needs a few things.
* All the guys still need to be able to roll it pretty damn fast ( 25+)
* All the guys need to actually commit to riding without screwing around
* All the guys need to have some rudimentary idea of how to paceline without accelerating too quickly or pulling off to the wrong side.
Oh yeah, the break cannot have a Spinners/GS Lancaster presented by Thru-It-All(tm) rider in it. The only thing that makes that team chase a breakaway faster is if it has one of its own teammates in it.
So to recap; If you want to win Wednesday Worlds, either
A)be Brian Trdina or
B)wait for the sprint and hope Shebelsky gets a flat.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
My head is going to assplode
I was attempting to do some recording over Skype to put together some lame podcast of an idea that I have. Almost an hour later, between software downloads, reboots, and tutorials, I'm not a hell of a lot further than when I started.
And that doesn't count the 40 minutes of rooting around to find my new earphones and microphone, both of which are still lost. And the 15 minutes of apologizing to my family after accusing the of hiding my stuff so that I'd freak out and have a stroke and then they could collect the life insurance money on me.
My apology was reluctantly accepted, but only because the youngest girls started asking if we really got money if Daddy died and would it be enough to get a pony, and that sort of spooked everyone out.
So if anyone has any experience which podcasting or skype recording please contact me and try and save me and my family additional anguish.
And that doesn't count the 40 minutes of rooting around to find my new earphones and microphone, both of which are still lost. And the 15 minutes of apologizing to my family after accusing the of hiding my stuff so that I'd freak out and have a stroke and then they could collect the life insurance money on me.
My apology was reluctantly accepted, but only because the youngest girls started asking if we really got money if Daddy died and would it be enough to get a pony, and that sort of spooked everyone out.
So if anyone has any experience which podcasting or skype recording please contact me and try and save me and my family additional anguish.
Dunno why, but this cracks me up
The teeth sprout into sharp thrusting daggers, the hair grows dark and bristled, and marauding packs search the night for victims to devour.
Sounds like a spooky Halloween story, but it isn't werewolves that are tearing up farmland in parts of Central Pennsylvania. Last week the Pennsylvania Game Commission rescinded protection on wild, breeding populations of feral swine in Butler, Bedford and Cambria counties.
Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/08307/924722-358.stm#ixzz0iMUn74Qs
Monday, March 15, 2010
BAGELS !
I made bagels with the girls over the weekend. A messy process...which means fun !
Had a couple of the bagels for breakfast this morning and they were delicious. Thanks Steevo for the suggestions.
The boy played great in hoops on Saturday, the oldest girl finished third in a 5km on Sunday, and the youngest made it a whole weekend without starting a dumpster fire. It was a good weekend all around.
Had a couple of the bagels for breakfast this morning and they were delicious. Thanks Steevo for the suggestions.
The boy played great in hoops on Saturday, the oldest girl finished third in a 5km on Sunday, and the youngest made it a whole weekend without starting a dumpster fire. It was a good weekend all around.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Newmax reads my blog
http://newsmax.com/US/US-Runaway-Prius/2010/03/12/id/352540
Runaway Prius Case Presents Nagging Questions
Friday, 12 Mar 2010 09:11 PM
Article Font Size
Investigators are confronted with a series of nagging questions as they try to unravel the case of a California real estate agent who said his Toyota Prius turned into a runaway death trap after the gas pedal became stuck.
Why didn't the driver simply throw the transmission into neutral as officers urged him to do? Why didn't a safety mechanism activate that was supposed to cut power to the engine in such situations? And could he have made the story up in pursuit of fame and money?
Each question is getting scrutiny from the Internet-consuming public as they question the motives of the driver, a 61-year-old real estate agent named James Sikes. Some skeptics have even invoked the infamous "balloon boy hoax" in expressing doubts about the story.
No evidence has emerged to suggest that Sikes was dishonest when he called 911 on Monday to report that the accelerator of his 2008 Prius was jammed during a trip home from his lawyer's office.
Runaway Prius Case Presents Nagging Questions
Friday, 12 Mar 2010 09:11 PM
Article Font Size
Investigators are confronted with a series of nagging questions as they try to unravel the case of a California real estate agent who said his Toyota Prius turned into a runaway death trap after the gas pedal became stuck.
Why didn't the driver simply throw the transmission into neutral as officers urged him to do? Why didn't a safety mechanism activate that was supposed to cut power to the engine in such situations? And could he have made the story up in pursuit of fame and money?
Each question is getting scrutiny from the Internet-consuming public as they question the motives of the driver, a 61-year-old real estate agent named James Sikes. Some skeptics have even invoked the infamous "balloon boy hoax" in expressing doubts about the story.
No evidence has emerged to suggest that Sikes was dishonest when he called 911 on Monday to report that the accelerator of his 2008 Prius was jammed during a trip home from his lawyer's office.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Why I don't play chess anymore
Right around 2000 I started playing a lot of chess. I was learning quite a bit and getting better week to week. My enthusiasm was high and my results exceeded my expectations.
Then I played two of the best games I've ever played..... and lost both of them.
The first was a 5 hour game that came down, literally, to one pawn being one single square ahead after all the other pieces were gone. The second game was in the final round of a tournament where I had the game won and made a stupid simple mistake that turned my win into a draw.
After that I was done. It became impossible for me to go deep. Believe it or not, chess is exhausting. Playing at a certain level (for chess the 1600 level is equivalent to being a good cat 3 in cycling ) means a fair amount of studying and practice, and then relentless concentration for 2-5 hours for a game. To win is euphoric, to commit for that long and then lose is shattering.
If you don't believe my, go back through the archives and read about Omar the chessmaster.
The reason I bring this up is because I'm sitting here watching today's stage of Paris-Nice and very much missing cycling. I really enjoy the sport, especially in the spring. When I rode I liked the comradare, I enjoyed the competition, and I enjoyed the benefits of being super fit.
But I've come to accept that I can't go deep.
I realized that I'm on the other side of things. I'm like your favorite sitcom that introduces a new baby to the cast....at that point you know the best days have past. When I was 29 I was the fittest I ever was. About 5 years ago or so, despite new challenges, I got pretty close to that fitness. In both cases, all that work, all that sacrifice, got me to the point where I had the best seat in the house to watch the real bike racers actually race....but never did I feel like I could much of anything other than follow wheels to a result of "also-ran".
The rain, the cold, the wind...the goddamn wind - its just too much to bear, for too little. To guys who can do it, more power to them. I'm jealous. I wish I was out there with you. But the tank is empty. I'm done.
Then I played two of the best games I've ever played..... and lost both of them.
The first was a 5 hour game that came down, literally, to one pawn being one single square ahead after all the other pieces were gone. The second game was in the final round of a tournament where I had the game won and made a stupid simple mistake that turned my win into a draw.
After that I was done. It became impossible for me to go deep. Believe it or not, chess is exhausting. Playing at a certain level (for chess the 1600 level is equivalent to being a good cat 3 in cycling ) means a fair amount of studying and practice, and then relentless concentration for 2-5 hours for a game. To win is euphoric, to commit for that long and then lose is shattering.
If you don't believe my, go back through the archives and read about Omar the chessmaster.
The reason I bring this up is because I'm sitting here watching today's stage of Paris-Nice and very much missing cycling. I really enjoy the sport, especially in the spring. When I rode I liked the comradare, I enjoyed the competition, and I enjoyed the benefits of being super fit.
But I've come to accept that I can't go deep.
I realized that I'm on the other side of things. I'm like your favorite sitcom that introduces a new baby to the cast....at that point you know the best days have past. When I was 29 I was the fittest I ever was. About 5 years ago or so, despite new challenges, I got pretty close to that fitness. In both cases, all that work, all that sacrifice, got me to the point where I had the best seat in the house to watch the real bike racers actually race....but never did I feel like I could much of anything other than follow wheels to a result of "also-ran".
The rain, the cold, the wind...the goddamn wind - its just too much to bear, for too little. To guys who can do it, more power to them. I'm jealous. I wish I was out there with you. But the tank is empty. I'm done.
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Calling Bullshit
I'm calling bullshit on the "Prius out of control" article appearing in the news today. It smells a lot like the balloon boy.
Landis signs with the Bahati Foundation. At least Nathan O'Neill will have someone to room with.
Watching Being John Daly right now. God I hope that guy wins at least one more tournament. Daly is one of those rare guys who doesn't know any better than to be honest.If he doesn't catch a break this time around I can't imaging there's much of a plan B. Its like watching Mike Tyson all over again. Go John.
55 degrees today. Golf can't be too far off.
Landis signs with the Bahati Foundation. At least Nathan O'Neill will have someone to room with.
Watching Being John Daly right now. God I hope that guy wins at least one more tournament. Daly is one of those rare guys who doesn't know any better than to be honest.If he doesn't catch a break this time around I can't imaging there's much of a plan B. Its like watching Mike Tyson all over again. Go John.
55 degrees today. Golf can't be too far off.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Friday, March 05, 2010
rare cycling post
I really don't like to write about cycling because its like talking about an ex-girlfriend with whom you've had a bad break-up.
I loved cycling. From about 1987 - 2004 I lived cycling. Cycling has directly affected where I lived, who my friends are, what jobs I've had, and who I am. The sport has provided me with experiences that I'll always cherish.
But in the end the sport has left disappointed. Betrayed.
At the risk of overusing the analogy, I lived through the 90's like a guy who knows deep down knows his girl is cheating, but just pretends not to notice. I saw Indurain break the 50km barrier for time trials and chalked it up to his unusual size, I saw Berzin go from the track to winning the Giro wire-to-wire and credited it to "modern training techniques", and saw Mapei and Areostea finish 1-2-3 in classics and attributed it to great teamwork.
When the Festina Affair happened it was really a relief. Willy Voet getting caught finally gave us all a chance to stop the charade and really admit what we already knew. And it was a real chance for everyone in the cycling community to make a commitment to put the transgressions of the past behind us and move forward with a fresh start. As far as I'm concerned, anyone doping before 1999 has a free pass.
But sadly and predictably 1998 was a missed opportunity.
Maybe things cleaned up a little, but it was only a year later that Pantani disappointed everyone. Then came the Giro raids. And once I saw US Postal putting 8 guys on the front of the field, all day, over the same Alpine passes that had decimated the likes of Bernard Hinault and Greg Lemond only a decade before, I know that nothing had changed.
But I'm a fool and I'll admit it....a hopeless romantic.
So when Lance retired I thought we stood at those crossroads again. I thought, " here's a chance for change". Tyler was behind us. Spain had their own Festina in Operation Puerto and finally the ( IMO) the epitome of the problem...the transgressor made hero, the cycling version of Iraqi WMDs...was leaving the sport.
And when I sat an watched Floyd, the anti-Lance, win stage 17 I believed. I BELIEVED. Here was a regular guy, one of us, from my hometown even !!! A guy who had the balls to tell Lance to fuck off. A guy who spoke from his gut instead of through a press agent, who was more likely to have a beer with you than have a bodyguard.
For me, and for many of us, stage 17 was everything that made up fall in love with cycling in the first place. Stage 17 was one man showing us what was possible in the human condition - proving to all of us that despite the seemingly impossible odds and challenges in our lives, that if we persevere, that if we sacrifice, that if we will ourselves that we can overcome. Against the heat, the mountains, the riders, the time deficit, against everything stacked against him Floyd Landis proved that we can exceed our limitations.
And Floyd Landis lied.
For me, and for a lot of cycling fans, that's the day the music died.
Everything that has followed with Floyd after that has only proven to drive that point home. He's lied about the drugs. He's pilfered from his friends and supporters for a phony defense based, not in his innocence, but in the technical merits of the process. He outted Greg LeMond as having been molested - when Greg's only offense was an offer of help.
So now when a warrant asking him appear as a witness in a hacking case is announced, it comes as no surprise that he twists the truth and lies about the matter. Its no surprise that his best defense is the same as his testosterone defense,
" I'm too smart to do something that I could be so easily caught doing"
Oh yeah Floyd ? If you're so fucking smart, then how do you explain you and Will Geoghegan drunk dialing Greg Lemond with the caller-ID on ?
With all that, I know that I can't get away from my nature. I still check in at cyclingnews.com almost daily. I can't help but watch Taylor Phinney and think what can be. And a little part of me still holds out hope that Landis wakes up one day and decides that having character is better than living a lie. Somewhere deep down I expect to wake up, open the paper, and find out that Landis has told EVERYTHING and is the champion who saves this sport.
Yeah, the flame of hope is a tiny ember, but its still in there. But that's me, a hopeless sap.
I loved cycling. From about 1987 - 2004 I lived cycling. Cycling has directly affected where I lived, who my friends are, what jobs I've had, and who I am. The sport has provided me with experiences that I'll always cherish.
But in the end the sport has left disappointed. Betrayed.
At the risk of overusing the analogy, I lived through the 90's like a guy who knows deep down knows his girl is cheating, but just pretends not to notice. I saw Indurain break the 50km barrier for time trials and chalked it up to his unusual size, I saw Berzin go from the track to winning the Giro wire-to-wire and credited it to "modern training techniques", and saw Mapei and Areostea finish 1-2-3 in classics and attributed it to great teamwork.
When the Festina Affair happened it was really a relief. Willy Voet getting caught finally gave us all a chance to stop the charade and really admit what we already knew. And it was a real chance for everyone in the cycling community to make a commitment to put the transgressions of the past behind us and move forward with a fresh start. As far as I'm concerned, anyone doping before 1999 has a free pass.
But sadly and predictably 1998 was a missed opportunity.
Maybe things cleaned up a little, but it was only a year later that Pantani disappointed everyone. Then came the Giro raids. And once I saw US Postal putting 8 guys on the front of the field, all day, over the same Alpine passes that had decimated the likes of Bernard Hinault and Greg Lemond only a decade before, I know that nothing had changed.
But I'm a fool and I'll admit it....a hopeless romantic.
So when Lance retired I thought we stood at those crossroads again. I thought, " here's a chance for change". Tyler was behind us. Spain had their own Festina in Operation Puerto and finally the ( IMO) the epitome of the problem...the transgressor made hero, the cycling version of Iraqi WMDs...was leaving the sport.
And when I sat an watched Floyd, the anti-Lance, win stage 17 I believed. I BELIEVED. Here was a regular guy, one of us, from my hometown even !!! A guy who had the balls to tell Lance to fuck off. A guy who spoke from his gut instead of through a press agent, who was more likely to have a beer with you than have a bodyguard.
For me, and for many of us, stage 17 was everything that made up fall in love with cycling in the first place. Stage 17 was one man showing us what was possible in the human condition - proving to all of us that despite the seemingly impossible odds and challenges in our lives, that if we persevere, that if we sacrifice, that if we will ourselves that we can overcome. Against the heat, the mountains, the riders, the time deficit, against everything stacked against him Floyd Landis proved that we can exceed our limitations.
And Floyd Landis lied.
For me, and for a lot of cycling fans, that's the day the music died.
Everything that has followed with Floyd after that has only proven to drive that point home. He's lied about the drugs. He's pilfered from his friends and supporters for a phony defense based, not in his innocence, but in the technical merits of the process. He outted Greg LeMond as having been molested - when Greg's only offense was an offer of help.
So now when a warrant asking him appear as a witness in a hacking case is announced, it comes as no surprise that he twists the truth and lies about the matter. Its no surprise that his best defense is the same as his testosterone defense,
" I'm too smart to do something that I could be so easily caught doing"
Oh yeah Floyd ? If you're so fucking smart, then how do you explain you and Will Geoghegan drunk dialing Greg Lemond with the caller-ID on ?
With all that, I know that I can't get away from my nature. I still check in at cyclingnews.com almost daily. I can't help but watch Taylor Phinney and think what can be. And a little part of me still holds out hope that Landis wakes up one day and decides that having character is better than living a lie. Somewhere deep down I expect to wake up, open the paper, and find out that Landis has told EVERYTHING and is the champion who saves this sport.
Yeah, the flame of hope is a tiny ember, but its still in there. But that's me, a hopeless sap.
Monday, March 01, 2010
pre-emptive
My boy had baseball tryouts this weekend for the 10 and under travel team.
He's clearly not the best kids there, and he's not the worst kid there. If I was being as objective as possibly I'd put him just inside the top 10. Either way it really doesn't matter.
There are 24 kids that will comprise a 12 player A team and a 12 player B team. If the boy makes the A squad he'll be one of the weaker players there, but the increased competition mean's he'll probably improve over the course of the season. If he makes the B squad he'll be one of the better players and more opportunities, which should improve his game.
He's 9 for christsake, either way he'll be just fine.
What made the experience notable for me were some of the fathers.
Now don't get me wrong...I'm an overbearing prick. My boy screws around and doesn't pay attention. When that happens I'm almost immediately on his shit. I'm sure that people think that makes me insane...I respect that. I also have take little issue with how other people raise their kids or manage them, provided that the result of their parenting doesn't directly affect me. Raise your kid how you want.
My problem/shock/surprise wasn't how the fathers were dealing with the kids, its how the parents were dealing with each other. Both Saturday and Sunday were like watching an episode of Survivor. There are fathers saddling up with other fathers, with the evaluators, and with the coaches in an attempt to influence the evaluation and selection process. There was talk about which fathers were sponsoring the league. There was positioning of wives in dinner parties and book clubs.
The whole thing was a couple tiaras shy of a beauty pageant.
And of course the real irony was that the parents doing the most positioning are the ones whose kids would be best served, athletically and behaviorally, by a little quality time with the old man. Then again I suppose that doesn't do much of the ego.
He's clearly not the best kids there, and he's not the worst kid there. If I was being as objective as possibly I'd put him just inside the top 10. Either way it really doesn't matter.
There are 24 kids that will comprise a 12 player A team and a 12 player B team. If the boy makes the A squad he'll be one of the weaker players there, but the increased competition mean's he'll probably improve over the course of the season. If he makes the B squad he'll be one of the better players and more opportunities, which should improve his game.
He's 9 for christsake, either way he'll be just fine.
What made the experience notable for me were some of the fathers.
Now don't get me wrong...I'm an overbearing prick. My boy screws around and doesn't pay attention. When that happens I'm almost immediately on his shit. I'm sure that people think that makes me insane...I respect that. I also have take little issue with how other people raise their kids or manage them, provided that the result of their parenting doesn't directly affect me. Raise your kid how you want.
My problem/shock/surprise wasn't how the fathers were dealing with the kids, its how the parents were dealing with each other. Both Saturday and Sunday were like watching an episode of Survivor. There are fathers saddling up with other fathers, with the evaluators, and with the coaches in an attempt to influence the evaluation and selection process. There was talk about which fathers were sponsoring the league. There was positioning of wives in dinner parties and book clubs.
The whole thing was a couple tiaras shy of a beauty pageant.
And of course the real irony was that the parents doing the most positioning are the ones whose kids would be best served, athletically and behaviorally, by a little quality time with the old man. Then again I suppose that doesn't do much of the ego.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
So typical Flick
The bike race/incentive program at the gym started 5 weeks ago and after my initial misstep I got off to a good start.
The event is 21 "races" comprised of 3 rides a week for 7 weeks. The rides differ in difficult and distance with most of the expresso courses being between 4 and 9 miles long.
There are about 40 people participating in the event. Of those 30 or so are normal rational people who view exercise has a healthy release. They show up, ride the bike for 15-30 minutes at a reasonable pace and enjoy the experience. The other five people are idiots. They ride as hard as they can, sweating all over everything and everyone, grunting, and making a total spectacle of themselves. As I was leading after two weeks, I suppose that makes me the king of the idiots.
I'm the new guy, an outsider, to the gym and by the third week I started getting the impression that the "insiders" really didn't appreciate me coming in and taking the lead in their contest. At first it wasn't anything definitive, just some mumbling and sidebar conversations. Then a few comments were made a little louder and in closer proximity to me...vague references, but enough to make me take notice. By the end of week three someone had etched "ringer" on my scoresheet...no smiley face either.
I showed up for the beginning of week 4 to do my ride and one of the regulars was suddenly and unexpectedly friendly to me. " How ya doing Flick ?" Then after exchanging some idle conversation he casually mentioned, " Did you notice that someone's beating you ?"
Sure enough I went over to the score book and there on page one was a name that hadn't previously been in the book, Bob Benson. And I looked over Bob Benson's times and they were almost identical to mine, but on a couple of the long events he had gone under me by 10-15 seconds.
"No worries", I thought. I had been riding at around 315 watts and knew that I could go a little harder if I needed to. That ride I buckled down and rode 320. Thursday I came in and the Bob Benson had ridden 4 second fast. With an audience of insiders keeping watch from in the shadows I hopped on the bike, buried myself with a 325. When I came in on Saturday, Benson had gone 10 second fast again.
Now I was getting, as I'm apt to get, a little paranoid. I googled Bob Benson. Nothing. Bob Benson cycling. nothing. Bob Benson triathlon. Zilch. Bob Benson running. Nada. The guy was a ghost.
So I started wondering...maybe these bastards just made up Bob Benson, and they're just waiting for me to put in my time, then they're writing in a time just slightly fast than mine just to mess with me. Just to crack me. If that's what they were doing, I was going to be pissed...although I'd be equally impressed because if their goal was to crack me it was starting to work.
Saturday I pounded out 330 watts, almost shitting my pants in the process. When I came in on Tuesday, I'd been beaten by 40 seconds !!!
It was more than I could take. From Sunday afternoon through Thursday morning I stopped in the gym before work and after work looking for the so called Bob Benson. No matter when I went in, day or night, no such guy. When I posted my time on Tuesday ( 324 watts) his time was posted first thing Wednesday morning....5 second faster.
Which brings up to last night's ride. I showed up and most of them were there. All the sneaky, conniving, devious little bastards. All smiles and "how ya doing". Congratulating me on my improvement of the last two weeks. I KNEW what they were up to and I wasn't going to have any of it. I pretty much insinuated that I knew that Bob Benson was a ghost, just there to fuck with me, and that whoever was up to is was risking life and limb cause " the whole contest was killing me and if it came right down to it, I was taking as many other people as I could down with me !"
Even I'm not sure what they hell I was talking about, but the rant did succeed freaking everyone out enough to clearing the room.
I used my anger to good use, trying to break the 335 barrier. I made it about 4 of the 7 miles at 340 and then the wheels started coming off. The last two miles were pure hell. I was up out of the saddle, grunting and trying not to vomit and came limping across the line at a 323 watt average.
I was laying across the handlebars with my chest heaving....a defeated lump of a man....muttering and swearing about those bastards and their little game when a guy climbed on the bike next to me. " Wow, good effort !!!! 323 Watts average is huge...you must be Flick, right ?"
" Thanks...and yeah I'm Flick", I got out between gasps.
" Oh, nice to meet you. I'm Bob Benson"
The event is 21 "races" comprised of 3 rides a week for 7 weeks. The rides differ in difficult and distance with most of the expresso courses being between 4 and 9 miles long.
There are about 40 people participating in the event. Of those 30 or so are normal rational people who view exercise has a healthy release. They show up, ride the bike for 15-30 minutes at a reasonable pace and enjoy the experience. The other five people are idiots. They ride as hard as they can, sweating all over everything and everyone, grunting, and making a total spectacle of themselves. As I was leading after two weeks, I suppose that makes me the king of the idiots.
I'm the new guy, an outsider, to the gym and by the third week I started getting the impression that the "insiders" really didn't appreciate me coming in and taking the lead in their contest. At first it wasn't anything definitive, just some mumbling and sidebar conversations. Then a few comments were made a little louder and in closer proximity to me...vague references, but enough to make me take notice. By the end of week three someone had etched "ringer" on my scoresheet...no smiley face either.
I showed up for the beginning of week 4 to do my ride and one of the regulars was suddenly and unexpectedly friendly to me. " How ya doing Flick ?" Then after exchanging some idle conversation he casually mentioned, " Did you notice that someone's beating you ?"
Sure enough I went over to the score book and there on page one was a name that hadn't previously been in the book, Bob Benson. And I looked over Bob Benson's times and they were almost identical to mine, but on a couple of the long events he had gone under me by 10-15 seconds.
"No worries", I thought. I had been riding at around 315 watts and knew that I could go a little harder if I needed to. That ride I buckled down and rode 320. Thursday I came in and the Bob Benson had ridden 4 second fast. With an audience of insiders keeping watch from in the shadows I hopped on the bike, buried myself with a 325. When I came in on Saturday, Benson had gone 10 second fast again.
Now I was getting, as I'm apt to get, a little paranoid. I googled Bob Benson. Nothing. Bob Benson cycling. nothing. Bob Benson triathlon. Zilch. Bob Benson running. Nada. The guy was a ghost.
So I started wondering...maybe these bastards just made up Bob Benson, and they're just waiting for me to put in my time, then they're writing in a time just slightly fast than mine just to mess with me. Just to crack me. If that's what they were doing, I was going to be pissed...although I'd be equally impressed because if their goal was to crack me it was starting to work.
Saturday I pounded out 330 watts, almost shitting my pants in the process. When I came in on Tuesday, I'd been beaten by 40 seconds !!!
It was more than I could take. From Sunday afternoon through Thursday morning I stopped in the gym before work and after work looking for the so called Bob Benson. No matter when I went in, day or night, no such guy. When I posted my time on Tuesday ( 324 watts) his time was posted first thing Wednesday morning....5 second faster.
Which brings up to last night's ride. I showed up and most of them were there. All the sneaky, conniving, devious little bastards. All smiles and "how ya doing". Congratulating me on my improvement of the last two weeks. I KNEW what they were up to and I wasn't going to have any of it. I pretty much insinuated that I knew that Bob Benson was a ghost, just there to fuck with me, and that whoever was up to is was risking life and limb cause " the whole contest was killing me and if it came right down to it, I was taking as many other people as I could down with me !"
Even I'm not sure what they hell I was talking about, but the rant did succeed freaking everyone out enough to clearing the room.
I used my anger to good use, trying to break the 335 barrier. I made it about 4 of the 7 miles at 340 and then the wheels started coming off. The last two miles were pure hell. I was up out of the saddle, grunting and trying not to vomit and came limping across the line at a 323 watt average.
I was laying across the handlebars with my chest heaving....a defeated lump of a man....muttering and swearing about those bastards and their little game when a guy climbed on the bike next to me. " Wow, good effort !!!! 323 Watts average is huge...you must be Flick, right ?"
" Thanks...and yeah I'm Flick", I got out between gasps.
" Oh, nice to meet you. I'm Bob Benson"
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Dear Tiger
Unless you banged my wife or sister, I'm fairly certain that you don't owe me an apology.
If you miss the Master and US Open and I have to spend an entire season watching Phil Michaelson's man boobs THEN you're going to own me an apology.
Just go golf.
If you miss the Master and US Open and I have to spend an entire season watching Phil Michaelson's man boobs THEN you're going to own me an apology.
Just go golf.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
the guy who flew the plane into the IRS building was crazy right ?
He sure writes pretty well for a crazy person.
You can only poke people with the stick of fear...of H1N1, terrorism, economic collapse, of a secret Muslim/socialist president....before some of those people start to get pissed off.
Flying a plane into a building qualifies as pissed off.
You can only poke people with the stick of fear...of H1N1, terrorism, economic collapse, of a secret Muslim/socialist president....before some of those people start to get pissed off.
Flying a plane into a building qualifies as pissed off.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
before you jump to judgement
Its been announced that Joe Papp plead guilty to charges today.
I don't want to go into it except to say a couple of things.
1 - Wait until you hear more of the story before you draw any conclusions.
2 - I believe this action, from what I know, sets anti-doping BACK, not forward.
3 - The prosecuting Federal D.A. also announced TODAY, her candidacy for U.S. Congress.
This is also very interesting
I don't want to go into it except to say a couple of things.
1 - Wait until you hear more of the story before you draw any conclusions.
2 - I believe this action, from what I know, sets anti-doping BACK, not forward.
3 - The prosecuting Federal D.A. also announced TODAY, her candidacy for U.S. Congress.
This is also very interesting
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Its not MY fault !
"Landis said he didn't not know why the French judicial system was pursuing the hacking charges. "But certainly I hope it's not lost on anyone that it is a grand admission to having substandard computers at their self-proclaimed 'nation's best lab'."
Exactly!!!! And if she didn't want raped then she shouldn't have worn pants so easy to tear off !
I cannot fathom how both this guy and Tyler continue to have supporters, while Joe Papp and David Walsh continue to be hated. Then again Sarah Palin is a presidential candidate so I suppose anything is possible.
Exactly!!!! And if she didn't want raped then she shouldn't have worn pants so easy to tear off !
I cannot fathom how both this guy and Tyler continue to have supporters, while Joe Papp and David Walsh continue to be hated. Then again Sarah Palin is a presidential candidate so I suppose anything is possible.
'snow problem whatsoever
I've been trying to make the best out of the bad weather and found a little luck this weekend.
Friday night I took the kids to the Fire and Ice Festival in Lititz. They shut down the streets and have a giant block party. This included games, music, magicians, and guys making giant ice sculptures all around town. Saturday ( the fire part) was a big chili cook off. Lititz is a neat town, and its those type of creative community efforts that keep it a vibrant Borough in a County with many failing communities.
Saturday I did some cross county skiing for the first time at a local golf course. If was a good workout and a lot of fun. I borrowed some skis, but if I knew that we'd get snow with any sort of regularity, its an investment I'd make. The only catch was that the trail was set a little close to a golf driving range, so you had to be careful when getting close to the golfers.
Sunday I couldn't borrow the skis, so I went to the driving range and hit two buckets of balls at the skiers.
Yesterday the whole family went over to Ski Roundtop for a full day of skiing. The youngest finally found her balance which made the day perfect as we could all go to the top and we ended up staying a couple hours longer than expected. It started snowing during the last hour and a half and the conditions were absolutely perfect.
I got home last night with the expectation of showering, getting into bed early with my wife, and getting a good nights sleep. I was exhausted. Those plans were skuttled when my daughter started throwing up at 8 pm. She finished throwing up at 4 am. The joys of parenting.
I'm just grateful for 50 cent refills at Starbucks.
Friday night I took the kids to the Fire and Ice Festival in Lititz. They shut down the streets and have a giant block party. This included games, music, magicians, and guys making giant ice sculptures all around town. Saturday ( the fire part) was a big chili cook off. Lititz is a neat town, and its those type of creative community efforts that keep it a vibrant Borough in a County with many failing communities.
Saturday I did some cross county skiing for the first time at a local golf course. If was a good workout and a lot of fun. I borrowed some skis, but if I knew that we'd get snow with any sort of regularity, its an investment I'd make. The only catch was that the trail was set a little close to a golf driving range, so you had to be careful when getting close to the golfers.
Sunday I couldn't borrow the skis, so I went to the driving range and hit two buckets of balls at the skiers.
Yesterday the whole family went over to Ski Roundtop for a full day of skiing. The youngest finally found her balance which made the day perfect as we could all go to the top and we ended up staying a couple hours longer than expected. It started snowing during the last hour and a half and the conditions were absolutely perfect.
I got home last night with the expectation of showering, getting into bed early with my wife, and getting a good nights sleep. I was exhausted. Those plans were skuttled when my daughter started throwing up at 8 pm. She finished throwing up at 4 am. The joys of parenting.
I'm just grateful for 50 cent refills at Starbucks.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
murder rate
Whatever the murder rate of any community, I can't believe its that low.
There are a significant number of people walking around almost begging to to be shot.
For whatever reason, most of them seem to seek me out.
There are a significant number of people walking around almost begging to to be shot.
For whatever reason, most of them seem to seek me out.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
hell in a handbasket
Mark Sanford didn't want FIDELITY included in his marriage vows. And his wife is surprised that he was cheating ?!
Who the hell does Tom Watson think he is ?
Lief Garrett is going bald !!!
GREAT PIC HERE
I'm done reading the paper for a couple of days.
Who the hell does Tom Watson think he is ?
Lief Garrett is going bald !!!
GREAT PIC HERE
I'm done reading the paper for a couple of days.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Rahm
So Rahm calls a group of Congressmen " fucking retards".
That's not news.
The fact that the retards are pissed about being associated with Congressmen, now that's news. And it tells you a lot about public approval of Congress right now.
That's not news.
The fact that the retards are pissed about being associated with Congressmen, now that's news. And it tells you a lot about public approval of Congress right now.
Friday, January 29, 2010
sometimes it takes a couple of days
Something about the Landis quote the other day was really bothering me....hence the post from two days ago.
But it was only after I stopped thinking about it did it dawn on me WHY it was so much on my mind.
It wasn't at all Landis' cavalier attitude, it was this quote:
"I have no clue what's going on. After the Tour of the Bahamas I'm going back to my shack behind the car wash. Maybe I'll write a book."
MY SHACK ?!?!?! WRITE A BOOK !?!?!?!
The Bahamas wasn't Landis' return to cycling. The Bahamas was Landis' shot across Armstrong's bow.
What that quote really means is, " Hey Lance you cock-knocker, I covered your ass. Now get the UCI to approve Rock Racing, or get me on Radio Shack, or something. FLoyd's gotta eat....don't make write a tell all book to do it."
I think I'm starting to like Floyd again.
But it was only after I stopped thinking about it did it dawn on me WHY it was so much on my mind.
It wasn't at all Landis' cavalier attitude, it was this quote:
"I have no clue what's going on. After the Tour of the Bahamas I'm going back to my shack behind the car wash. Maybe I'll write a book."
MY SHACK ?!?!?! WRITE A BOOK !?!?!?!
The Bahamas wasn't Landis' return to cycling. The Bahamas was Landis' shot across Armstrong's bow.
What that quote really means is, " Hey Lance you cock-knocker, I covered your ass. Now get the UCI to approve Rock Racing, or get me on Radio Shack, or something. FLoyd's gotta eat....don't make write a tell all book to do it."
I think I'm starting to like Floyd again.
flying fish
I'm not even sure where to being with this one other than to say thanks to Kev-O for sending it across my desk.
The Readers Digest version is that Silver Carp were brought over from Asia for some specific purpose of filtering catfish ponds. There was a flood, the carp got into the rivers, and the end result is that these things are breeding out of control and getting huge.
By luck, some crazy ass bowhunter guy found out that if you run your boat at a low RPM near these carp, they go berserk and start jumping like 10 feet out of the water. He strung up a bunch of arrows on fishing line, got himself a case of beer and a video camera and extreme aerial bowfishing was born. http://www.brackettoutdoors.com/cbfishstory.htm
If that was f-ed up enough....they were out filming a show and shooting fish, when the fish started fighting back. The guys girlfriend ( pretty super hot girlfriend I might add...there apparently are perks to being an extreme aerial bowhunter) got nailed by one of the fish and broke her jaw ! See further pics by following this link.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
classy
"All that drinking is starting to pay off," Landis wrote in an e-mail, according to NeilBrowne.com. "I beat the course record set by Zman [David Zabriskie] two years ago and I was on somebody else's road bike with clinchers and no aero clothes. Take that f@*#ers."
"I have no clue what's going on. After the Tour of the Bahamas I'm going back to my shack behind the car wash. Maybe I'll write a book."
-- Just the sort of quotes you'd expect from any drug addict I suppose. I wonder what the title of the book will be.... " covering for the boss, on the fast track to shack ownership ".
"I have no clue what's going on. After the Tour of the Bahamas I'm going back to my shack behind the car wash. Maybe I'll write a book."
-- Just the sort of quotes you'd expect from any drug addict I suppose. I wonder what the title of the book will be.... " covering for the boss, on the fast track to shack ownership ".
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
a tree fell in the forest....aka unlikely feminists
Through a series of unusual coincidences ( I'm starting to wonder if there are such things), anyway, found myself sitting in the midway hotel tavern.
The midway, with the exception of adding Ozzy's " I'm Coming Home" to the jukebox, hasn't changed one thing since 1978 including the patrons who seem permanently affixed to their stools, sipping cans of Old Milwaukee and staring blankly at bowling memorabilia
I walked in during the second frame of the Professional BowlersAssociation Tournament of Champions, championship match which pitted top PBA bowler Chris Barnes against Kelly Kulick. This match creating history with the first woman ever to make it to a final of a PBA tournament...and doing so at the televised finals of the games major championship.
It was as if, in order for the event to truly have happened, that an outside observer (me) needed to lay witness to the experience for this elephant graveyard of bowling enthusiasts as they found themselves challenged with social-sexual implication of the match juxtaposed against the " take on all comers", "roll 'em and count 'em up" and dare I say "mano-a-mano" concepts that form the cornerstones of their Midway existence.
I started to mention the whole Schrodinger's cat idea to them, but then figured having your mind totally fucking blown once on a Sunday afternoon was enough, plus as Kelly rolled strike after strike I wondered if perhaps the situation would turn volatile and, as an outsider, I was very much a likely target.
As it turned out, the opposite was true. Kulick didn't just win the match, she dominated it. Perhaps it was the space, the company or the $3 Trogges, but after the 4th strike in a row I started picking up the strong scent of fate. Except for a hiccup of an open frame in the middle she just rolled strike after strike after strike, each one touching the sporting sensibilities of the crowd at the midway, and winning over their support. By the 8th frame she had the thing won. Undeterred she struck the 8th, the 9th, and the went strike, strike, 9 in the final frame with the last standing pin seeming almost appropriate....as in...." keep watching because you know I can get even better".
The win give Kulick a two year automatic exemption on the Pro Bowlers Tour, and I suspect we're going to starting hearing a little more about bowling over the coming months. But her impact is already felt, at least along a small stretch of Columbia Ave. As I hustled out of there, late to pick up the boy, I heard one of the old timers say to the bartender, "can you turn the TV up ? I want to hear what she has to say "
The midway, with the exception of adding Ozzy's " I'm Coming Home" to the jukebox, hasn't changed one thing since 1978 including the patrons who seem permanently affixed to their stools, sipping cans of Old Milwaukee and staring blankly at bowling memorabilia
I walked in during the second frame of the Professional BowlersAssociation Tournament of Champions, championship match which pitted top PBA bowler Chris Barnes against Kelly Kulick. This match creating history with the first woman ever to make it to a final of a PBA tournament...and doing so at the televised finals of the games major championship.
It was as if, in order for the event to truly have happened, that an outside observer (me) needed to lay witness to the experience for this elephant graveyard of bowling enthusiasts as they found themselves challenged with social-sexual implication of the match juxtaposed against the " take on all comers", "roll 'em and count 'em up" and dare I say "mano-a-mano" concepts that form the cornerstones of their Midway existence.
I started to mention the whole Schrodinger's cat idea to them, but then figured having your mind totally fucking blown once on a Sunday afternoon was enough, plus as Kelly rolled strike after strike I wondered if perhaps the situation would turn volatile and, as an outsider, I was very much a likely target.
As it turned out, the opposite was true. Kulick didn't just win the match, she dominated it. Perhaps it was the space, the company or the $3 Trogges, but after the 4th strike in a row I started picking up the strong scent of fate. Except for a hiccup of an open frame in the middle she just rolled strike after strike after strike, each one touching the sporting sensibilities of the crowd at the midway, and winning over their support. By the 8th frame she had the thing won. Undeterred she struck the 8th, the 9th, and the went strike, strike, 9 in the final frame with the last standing pin seeming almost appropriate....as in...." keep watching because you know I can get even better".
The win give Kulick a two year automatic exemption on the Pro Bowlers Tour, and I suspect we're going to starting hearing a little more about bowling over the coming months. But her impact is already felt, at least along a small stretch of Columbia Ave. As I hustled out of there, late to pick up the boy, I heard one of the old timers say to the bartender, "can you turn the TV up ? I want to hear what she has to say "
Friday, January 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
McGwire
During his weak assed excuse maknig "confession" he claims that in 1998, he took steroid to keep him going, not to improve.
" But then around July or the All-Star break I decided to take a month’s worth of steroids to get my body to feeling normal to where I can finish up strong. I did not abuse them. I did use them. It’s so regrettable."
How can this idiot fool himself into thinking that there's not a difference.
When all the rule followers are forced to contend wtih injuries and exhaustion while you circumvent those same obstacles through prohibited substances...that's the very definition of performance enhancing.
What a douche.
" But then around July or the All-Star break I decided to take a month’s worth of steroids to get my body to feeling normal to where I can finish up strong. I did not abuse them. I did use them. It’s so regrettable."
How can this idiot fool himself into thinking that there's not a difference.
When all the rule followers are forced to contend wtih injuries and exhaustion while you circumvent those same obstacles through prohibited substances...that's the very definition of performance enhancing.
What a douche.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
stolen story
I needed new glasses and to buy them they give you a free eye test for the prescription of the lens.
Doctor says ' Do you read or use a computer a lot?'
me 'I read and I also use the computer a lot'
him 'word processing and surfing, or additional strain on the eyes'
me 'Well I play a little online poker sometimes'
him 'ok, well lets see how your eyes are'
He then switches off the lights and I do the 'please read the lines test. He says 'read the 2nd line please'
The 2nd line has a 3 K J 2. So I obviously say, 'Three, King, Jack, Deuce' I had no idea what I said was wrong until he looked at me and said 'A little poker?' Then I clued in.
Doctor says ' Do you read or use a computer a lot?'
me 'I read and I also use the computer a lot'
him 'word processing and surfing, or additional strain on the eyes'
me 'Well I play a little online poker sometimes'
him 'ok, well lets see how your eyes are'
He then switches off the lights and I do the 'please read the lines test. He says 'read the 2nd line please'
The 2nd line has a 3 K J 2. So I obviously say, 'Three, King, Jack, Deuce' I had no idea what I said was wrong until he looked at me and said 'A little poker?' Then I clued in.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Waitress Wisdom
I overheard imparting a bit of wisdom to a new waitress at the diner the other morning.
Young waitress: It seems like some people order the same thing every day.
Old waitress: Honey EVERYBODY orders the same thing everyday. About once every two weeks one of them will ask you for a menu. Then they're read it over and talk about how good everything looks, fold up the menu, hand it back to you, and order the same thing as usual. People aren't willing to risk the rest of the day on bad breakfast.
This of course occurred 10 minutes after asking for a menu, looking it over, commenting on how good everything look, folding it up, handing it back, and ordering the same thing as usual.
Young waitress: It seems like some people order the same thing every day.
Old waitress: Honey EVERYBODY orders the same thing everyday. About once every two weeks one of them will ask you for a menu. Then they're read it over and talk about how good everything looks, fold up the menu, hand it back to you, and order the same thing as usual. People aren't willing to risk the rest of the day on bad breakfast.
This of course occurred 10 minutes after asking for a menu, looking it over, commenting on how good everything look, folding it up, handing it back, and ordering the same thing as usual.
Monday, January 04, 2010
movie review time
I had a chance to see some movies over the last week, thought I'd share.
Avatar 3-D - You'll pretty much figure out the story line in 30 seconds if you haven't already. Doesn't matter. It reminded my seeing Star Wars as a kid, visually mindblowing. The 3-D was incredibly well down and the transition from live action to animation was seamless. When this technology gets applied universally, it will revitalize the movie theater buisness..you just can't get this experience at home.
And when they figure out how to apply the technology to sports and video games, I'm dumping all my investments into Laz-E-Boy and drool cups. ( even I'm not completely sure what that means, but you get the idea)
Up In The Air - I had to go to the movies twice to see this as it was sold out the first time. My reaction is a a solid "eh". The premise is good. The acting is good. The story is good. I think I may have been more impressed without the hype. Worth seeing.
Man on Wire - Documentary about the guy who walked on a tightrope from one twin tower to another in 1974. The stunt was totally illegal and the story follows the attempt from its conception through the planning stages and to the day of the walk through archived footage and current day interviews with the participants. This is a fun rental.
The Hangover - Fun movie. Ken Jeong almost steals the movie as Mr. Chow and who can resist any movie with Mike Tyson. Good times, quality rental, thumbs up.
Avatar 3-D - You'll pretty much figure out the story line in 30 seconds if you haven't already. Doesn't matter. It reminded my seeing Star Wars as a kid, visually mindblowing. The 3-D was incredibly well down and the transition from live action to animation was seamless. When this technology gets applied universally, it will revitalize the movie theater buisness..you just can't get this experience at home.
And when they figure out how to apply the technology to sports and video games, I'm dumping all my investments into Laz-E-Boy and drool cups. ( even I'm not completely sure what that means, but you get the idea)
Up In The Air - I had to go to the movies twice to see this as it was sold out the first time. My reaction is a a solid "eh". The premise is good. The acting is good. The story is good. I think I may have been more impressed without the hype. Worth seeing.
Man on Wire - Documentary about the guy who walked on a tightrope from one twin tower to another in 1974. The stunt was totally illegal and the story follows the attempt from its conception through the planning stages and to the day of the walk through archived footage and current day interviews with the participants. This is a fun rental.
The Hangover - Fun movie. Ken Jeong almost steals the movie as Mr. Chow and who can resist any movie with Mike Tyson. Good times, quality rental, thumbs up.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tour De Dork
I haven't been doing much exercising and, like everyone else, have decided to turn things around for the new year.
On Wednesday night I noticed that the local gym was having a cycling promotion and thought that would be right down my alley. You have to ride the exercise bike at the gym varying distances, three times a week for 6 weeks. No problem.
They also accumulated your time over each of the "stages" and had a prize for the fastest riders. Even better !
Except....week 1 is from the 25th to the 31st, which gave me two days to get the first three rides in....AND the gym closes at 1 pm on New Year's Eve.
Undeterred I figured that I could ride two courses last night and one course this morning at 6 am.
I got to the gym last night with about 1 hour before close and looking at about 45 minutes of ride time. The first course was only 3.5 miles in distance so rather than waste time on a warm-up, I figured I'd get right into it. When I was fit ( and younger) I could hold 300+watts for an hour, so I'd just do this first course at 275 watts, a modest pace, get through the first course as a good warm-up and then really light it on first for the second ride.
I sat down, hit start and started pounding away at 275 watts. " Hmmmm, something must be stuck", I thought and looked around. No, nothing was stuck. Apparently in the couple of years that I've stopped riding seriously, 275 watts has become difficult.
Undeterred I pressed on holding 275 watts and watched my heart rate go up 155....165.....172.....173..... the last mile I was up out of the saddle grunting and dumping waves of sweat on the poor old man out on a leisurely ride on the bike next to me.
Finally I stopped the clock at 9:40 and lay slumped over the bike, making a spectacle of myself, and doing my best to not throw up all over the gym floor.
Before I could start the next course I had to find someone to take dowm my time. After some searching I finally found the guy who works there spotting someone, " Hey can you give me hand ?"
" Can you wait until after I'm done spotting this guy ?", he asked.
" I really can't", I said, " I have to do another ride and I just need you for a second, I"m sorry."
So the guy stopped what he was doing and followed me back to my bike, " What seems to be the problem ?" he asked.
" There's no problem.", I said, "I just need you to record my time so I can do course number two."
" Huh ?", he looked at me funny
" For the Tour De Gym...my time....I want to ride a second course, can you please record my time ?", A pool of sweat was, literally, forming around me and I was still panting.
He raised his eyebrows, sort of smiled, and raised a finger. " Hang on", he said, and walked into the back room.
He came back with a three ring binder and asked, " THIS Tour De Gym ?" he asked pointing at the cover of the book which read TOUR DE GYM.
" Yeah, EXACTLY !" What was this guys problem ?
" THIS Tour De Gym ?", he asked a second time, except this time, with a big smile on this face, he was pointing at the bottom part of the cover which read....
starts JANUARY 25, 2010.
" Yeah ", I said, " exactly."
Monday, December 28, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Out with the old king, in with the new
It looks like a big ole Bush-Obama Alley-Oop.
Bend over America.
Barack Obama, a once-in-a-generation political talent whose graceful conquest of America's racial dragons en route to the White House inspired the entire world, has for some reason allowed his presidency to be hijacked by sniveling, low-rent shitheads
The point is that an economic team made up exclusively of callous millionaire-assholes has absolutely zero interest in reforming the gamed system that made them rich in the first place.
Bend over America.
Barack Obama, a once-in-a-generation political talent whose graceful conquest of America's racial dragons en route to the White House inspired the entire world, has for some reason allowed his presidency to be hijacked by sniveling, low-rent shitheads
The point is that an economic team made up exclusively of callous millionaire-assholes has absolutely zero interest in reforming the gamed system that made them rich in the first place.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Typical night
After some stressful days I was really looking forward to a quiet Monday night spent watching Allen Iverson's return to the Sixers.
Around 7 pm, after organizing the kids, checking their homework, feeding them, cleaning up the kitchen, and the half dozen other things that need to be done, I settled in and watched the introduction to " You Six-ahhhhs Stahhhh-tahhhhs !"
Right before tip-off my daughter informed me that she needed me to edit a paper she wrote. I told her that it would have to wait but was informed that (a) it was due the next morning and (b) it was about her pledge to not do drugs and delaying the process might lessen her committment to a drug free lifestyle. ( she's effectively manipulative like that)
She after 10 minutes of instruction I finally got her to email to me so that I could edit it on my laptop and still watch the game....and of course finish the online poker tournament that I had open and read my emails.
So still hanging onto some sense of relaxation I started editing the document when the boy walked in, " Hey awesome Iverson !" and plopped down next to me. He started his usual routine, figiting, tossing a ball up and down, chewing on the fingernails and sticking his head in front of my screen to see what I'm doing and reading aloud ( alternately) the anti-drug screed and my hole cards usually in the form of a question.
" I'm committed to a drug free lifestlye... ( shuffle)... Jack - seven you should bet right ?..( toss the ball)..alcohol is bad...(knock something over)..why did you fold ?...(pick a wedge)... Oooo Iverson just scored, isn't he on Memphis ? Hey where did the poker screen go ?"
Its like living with an epileptic Alex Trebek.
Finally I couldn't take it, " GO OVER THERE AND STOP MOVING !"
I finished the email and sent to my daughter. Of course she couldn't get the printer to work.
I went over to the printer, started working, and a face appeared two inches away from me cheek to cheek, " Hey, do you know what the problem is ?....(shuffle)....Did you check the printer cartridge ?...( bounce, bounce)....Is there paper in it ?..."
" OUT ! GET OUT ! GO UPSTAIRS !!!!"
" Geeze,. what's wrong with him", and the boy headed upstairs.
I just about got the printer working when I heard SMASH..." OW!" and my daughter and I ran upstairs to find glass shards everywhere and the boy bleeding and running his hand under the kitchen faucet. " Ummm, I cut my finger"
He had been tossing a Christmas ornament around like a ball and in broke in his hand.
" GODDAMMIT !", I started freaking out. " GET OVER HERE."
I threw two band-aids on the kid and my daughter started in on me, " Did you put neosporin on it ? Mom says if you don't put neosporin on it that its going to get infected ? I saw you didn't put in on, he's going to get and infected finger, Yourgoingtogetandinfectedfingeryoubetterputsomeneosporiinthererightnow...or I'm telling Mom !"
That's when I really lost it. I started screwaming and speaking in tongues and chasing kids around. When my wife finally got home she found noe kid hiding in the basement, the boy in the bathroom off the kitchen, and me on the kitchen floor with a dustbuster picking up glass and talking to myself.
" What's going on....", she started...
" DON'T ASK !"
That's when I heard the following. FLUSH.......FLUSH.......FLUSH......"UH-OH".
" Open the door"
" I don't want to open the door"
" OPEN the door"
" I really don't think its a good idea that I open the door"
" OPEN THE DOOR"
" OK, but I don't think that its going to go well"
The boy, holed up in the bathroom, had decided that rather than run the risk of having to deal with the maniac outside the bathroom, that a more reasonable solution to running out of toilet paper was to tear up a toilet paper roll and wipe with that. He hadn't accounted for the "flush factor".
I left him with a trashbag, a pair of gloves, and a plunger before I left for the bar.
Around 7 pm, after organizing the kids, checking their homework, feeding them, cleaning up the kitchen, and the half dozen other things that need to be done, I settled in and watched the introduction to " You Six-ahhhhs Stahhhh-tahhhhs !"
Right before tip-off my daughter informed me that she needed me to edit a paper she wrote. I told her that it would have to wait but was informed that (a) it was due the next morning and (b) it was about her pledge to not do drugs and delaying the process might lessen her committment to a drug free lifestyle. ( she's effectively manipulative like that)
She after 10 minutes of instruction I finally got her to email to me so that I could edit it on my laptop and still watch the game....and of course finish the online poker tournament that I had open and read my emails.
So still hanging onto some sense of relaxation I started editing the document when the boy walked in, " Hey awesome Iverson !" and plopped down next to me. He started his usual routine, figiting, tossing a ball up and down, chewing on the fingernails and sticking his head in front of my screen to see what I'm doing and reading aloud ( alternately) the anti-drug screed and my hole cards usually in the form of a question.
" I'm committed to a drug free lifestlye... ( shuffle)... Jack - seven you should bet right ?..( toss the ball)..alcohol is bad...(knock something over)..why did you fold ?...(pick a wedge)... Oooo Iverson just scored, isn't he on Memphis ? Hey where did the poker screen go ?"
Its like living with an epileptic Alex Trebek.
Finally I couldn't take it, " GO OVER THERE AND STOP MOVING !"
I finished the email and sent to my daughter. Of course she couldn't get the printer to work.
I went over to the printer, started working, and a face appeared two inches away from me cheek to cheek, " Hey, do you know what the problem is ?....(shuffle)....Did you check the printer cartridge ?...( bounce, bounce)....Is there paper in it ?..."
" OUT ! GET OUT ! GO UPSTAIRS !!!!"
" Geeze,. what's wrong with him", and the boy headed upstairs.
I just about got the printer working when I heard SMASH..." OW!" and my daughter and I ran upstairs to find glass shards everywhere and the boy bleeding and running his hand under the kitchen faucet. " Ummm, I cut my finger"
He had been tossing a Christmas ornament around like a ball and in broke in his hand.
" GODDAMMIT !", I started freaking out. " GET OVER HERE."
I threw two band-aids on the kid and my daughter started in on me, " Did you put neosporin on it ? Mom says if you don't put neosporin on it that its going to get infected ? I saw you didn't put in on, he's going to get and infected finger, Yourgoingtogetandinfectedfingeryoubetterputsomeneosporiinthererightnow...or I'm telling Mom !"
That's when I really lost it. I started screwaming and speaking in tongues and chasing kids around. When my wife finally got home she found noe kid hiding in the basement, the boy in the bathroom off the kitchen, and me on the kitchen floor with a dustbuster picking up glass and talking to myself.
" What's going on....", she started...
" DON'T ASK !"
That's when I heard the following. FLUSH.......FLUSH.......FLUSH......"UH-OH".
" Open the door"
" I don't want to open the door"
" OPEN the door"
" I really don't think its a good idea that I open the door"
" OPEN THE DOOR"
" OK, but I don't think that its going to go well"
The boy, holed up in the bathroom, had decided that rather than run the risk of having to deal with the maniac outside the bathroom, that a more reasonable solution to running out of toilet paper was to tear up a toilet paper roll and wipe with that. He hadn't accounted for the "flush factor".
I left him with a trashbag, a pair of gloves, and a plunger before I left for the bar.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
So What
Why do you think Myrtle Beach has all those strip clubs and Cialis sponsors all those PGA Tour events.
Golfers are horny baby...yeahhhhh.
Pretty much everyone knew this was going to be the story 4 days ago. Can we all move on now ? **
** Unless my wife is reading this, in which case I find this whole sorrid afair to be disgusting.
Golfers are horny baby...yeahhhhh.
Pretty much everyone knew this was going to be the story 4 days ago. Can we all move on now ? **
** Unless my wife is reading this, in which case I find this whole sorrid afair to be disgusting.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
surprise reaction
Anytime everyone is mad at you you've done something wrong...
unless you're a politician...
then if everyone is mad at you, you're probably doing something right.
I watched Obama's speech tonight as a bit of a skeptic. He's been a disappointment to me so far.
But I was plesantly surprised but what he had to say. What I like was him making some definative committment to transparency, the settings of deadlines, and broad vision. I still don't believe that he's likely to deliver, but it was nice to see such a significant departure in rhetoric.
So my first trip was over to Fox to see them lambaste him. Those guys barely made a stink. Then O'Reilly came on said a few words and spent the rest of the time talking about the hair style of the chick who snuck into the White House.
Then I went over to MSNBC and pretty much everyone over there half heartedly busted Obama's balls. Olberman couldn't even get excited.
i think perhaps he's stumped them all with reason.
unless you're a politician...
then if everyone is mad at you, you're probably doing something right.
I watched Obama's speech tonight as a bit of a skeptic. He's been a disappointment to me so far.
But I was plesantly surprised but what he had to say. What I like was him making some definative committment to transparency, the settings of deadlines, and broad vision. I still don't believe that he's likely to deliver, but it was nice to see such a significant departure in rhetoric.
So my first trip was over to Fox to see them lambaste him. Those guys barely made a stink. Then O'Reilly came on said a few words and spent the rest of the time talking about the hair style of the chick who snuck into the White House.
Then I went over to MSNBC and pretty much everyone over there half heartedly busted Obama's balls. Olberman couldn't even get excited.
i think perhaps he's stumped them all with reason.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Strap yourselves in
52 hours sober
something has to give
hide your women and show shovels
this is almost a haikuu
something has to give
hide your women and show shovels
this is almost a haikuu
Friday, November 13, 2009
For all you sucker MC's perpetratin a FRAUD
You're the kind of guy that girl ignored
I'm drivin Caddy, you fixin a FORD
I'm drivin Caddy, you fixin a FORD
Thursday, November 12, 2009
while waiting for parent teacher conferences..
...I saw this in the hall.
I laughed through the whole conference.
I laughed through the whole conference.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
smooth criminal
Starbucks was empty ( or so I thought) today and I walked in giving the girls behind the counter the usual rash of shit, " get me my coffee...what's taking so long ?!" which is typcial of the friendly banter I have with my dealers...I mean coffee vendors.
I went back and forth with the girl at the counter until we were interrupted by some laughing. A good looking professional woman ( professional is in buisness woman...not prostitute so far as I could tell) was standing next to me laughing started chatting me up. We exchanged plesantries and out the door she went.
When I turned back around to get my coffee the girls behind the counter started howling. " SHE WAS TOTALLY TRYING TO PICK YOU UP !"
get outta here
" NO WAY MAN, AHAHAHAH, you were totally getting hit on"
So I turned back around to see the woman walking to her car and began to laugh with the girls.
Then I had an epiffany. I realized girls weren't laughing at HER...the girls were laughing at US.
Along the dividing line of "hip" there are cool young people and bungling has-beens...and I was on the wrong side of that counter.
Starbucks: The coffee is the $2. The shattered self image is free !
I went back and forth with the girl at the counter until we were interrupted by some laughing. A good looking professional woman ( professional is in buisness woman...not prostitute so far as I could tell) was standing next to me laughing started chatting me up. We exchanged plesantries and out the door she went.
When I turned back around to get my coffee the girls behind the counter started howling. " SHE WAS TOTALLY TRYING TO PICK YOU UP !"
get outta here
" NO WAY MAN, AHAHAHAH, you were totally getting hit on"
So I turned back around to see the woman walking to her car and began to laugh with the girls.
Then I had an epiffany. I realized girls weren't laughing at HER...the girls were laughing at US.
Along the dividing line of "hip" there are cool young people and bungling has-beens...and I was on the wrong side of that counter.
Starbucks: The coffee is the $2. The shattered self image is free !
Don't Cry For Me Argenina
I woke my son up the this morning singing the theme to Evita in my best Ricky Riccardo voice.
" DON'T CRY FOR ME ARCH-IN-TIIIINE-JAAAA"
" ok I'm up already "
" THE TRUST IS I NEVER LEFT CHUUUU"
"cut it out !"
" ALL THROUGH MY WILD DAY AND MAD EXISTANCE "
" shut....up"
" I KEPT MY PROMISE "
" your so friggin weird "
" DON'T KEEP YOUR DEEES-TENSE "
" mooooooooommmmmmmmmmmm !"
Before my wife could yell at me for stirring up trouble or accuse me not knowing that Evita was a woman is said "Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do! " and walked out the door.
I suspect they're changing the locks right now.
" DON'T CRY FOR ME ARCH-IN-TIIIINE-JAAAA"
" ok I'm up already "
" THE TRUST IS I NEVER LEFT CHUUUU"
"cut it out !"
" ALL THROUGH MY WILD DAY AND MAD EXISTANCE "
" shut....up"
" I KEPT MY PROMISE "
" your so friggin weird "
" DON'T KEEP YOUR DEEES-TENSE "
" mooooooooommmmmmmmmmmm !"
Before my wife could yell at me for stirring up trouble or accuse me not knowing that Evita was a woman is said "Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do! " and walked out the door.
I suspect they're changing the locks right now.
Losing my grip
I played with my father and uncle over the weekend at a beautiful but difficult course in New Jersey.
10 minutes after parking my car, I realized I was in New Jersey. 4 Italians stood on the tee trying to cut and light their cigars while 45 carts full of Asians patiently waited to go off the first tee. Finally the starter came out and suggested the gentlemen consider teeing off.
The four guys, of course playing from the back tees, proceeded to boomerang four balls into the woods and spent another 10 minutes calling the starter a motherfucker and blaming their shots ( not on their horrible swings) on being rushed off the tee. And you know these are the same 4 guys who would have called the starter a motherfucker if he wasn't chasing the people ahead of THEM.
Of course they never played their balls in the woods, but instead dropped four balls in the fairway as compensation for this grave injustice. I suspect they were lawyers and or Catholics.
Using duct tape and kite string I cobbled together a 40 on the front nine and headed into the back with the hope of breaking 80 on a really challenging course.
On the par 5 12th hole I hit a great drive and was sitting at the 200 yard marker with the hope of reaching in two and going either eagle or birdie when my approach shot clipped the tip of the thinnest, barest, single branch hanging just over the edge of the fairway and the ball dropped just short of the green. OK, fine then....no worries...I'll just chip it on, one or two putt and get out of there.
The area around this particular hole looked like the front lawn of the White House. As far as you could seen in every direction was a vast ocean of perfectly groomed, emerald green grass. The entire area was unblemished except for one spot....one singular silver dollar size spot of bare dirt in the entire expanse of land between the tee and the green...and it was the spot diretly under my ball.
Now I was getting a little bit pissed off.
Between myself and the hole was a sand bunker, and behind the hole was some deep rough. I needed to pick this ball off the dirt patch, clear the bunker, but have enough loft so the ball wouldn't roll off the back and into the deep grass. Its wasn't impossible but it was going to necessitate a very good shot.
I took a calming breath and addressed the ball. I locked in and drew the club back slowly and.....WHIRRRRRRRRR......CLUNK....WHIRRRRRRRRRRR. Right in the middle of my back swing, the cart girl came buzzing around and evergreen tree full speed and right past me. CLUNK my ball went on a line drive over the bunker, past the hole, and disappeared off the green in 4 inches of thick rough on the other side. Furious, I spun around to say something, but she kept going by with a smile and a wave. She headed over the the next hole to sell some beer to the guys ahead of us.
The bitch was wearing a Yankees hat.
So now I"m really steaming but all is not lost. If I could somehow get the ball onto the green I could still possibly get a par and at least a bogey. And that's the torture of the game - from eagle to bogey from 10 yards out. Again I tried to calm myself and stay in the moment. My ball was sitting down in the grass and the only way to get it out of there was to make a daring play. Despite a short distance to the hole, I had to open up the face, make a full swing, and get under the ball. Anything more than that and I would go over the green. Anything less than that and the ball would only move a few inches.
I took a half dozen practice swings to build my courage, got comfortable and addressed the ball. I drew the club all the way back and coiled myself for a full swing.....WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRR.....CLUNK. Right at the apex of my swing that Derek Jeter loving bitch came flying by again. My club slammed into the ground a good half foot behind the ball and the chunck of dirt went next to the hole while my ball moved about an inch and a half.
Angrily I spun around to see her driving off into the distance. Insane with rage I lifted my wedge over my head like a tomahawk and in an act of defiance hurled it at the cart. Now I recognize that I'm crazy, but I'm not criminal. I threw the club at the girl, but she was a good 30 yards away in a cart going 10 miles per hour. I've done enough 5th grade math problems concerning trains leaving New York and Boston to know that by the time my club got to where she was, she'd be another 30 yards away oblivious to my outburst.
What they don't factor in for 5th grade is that the train leaving Boston might suddenly stop if the conductor mistakes your yelling " Bitch !" for you yelling " BEER !"
What had been an outburst of protest was turning into criminal assault at 20 yards and closing. The wedge spun end over end, implausibly on a dead trajectory for the Yankees logo. My father and my Uncle, who up to this point had simply been observers were about to become accomplices and suddenly, thankfully, they started screaming.... " GO ! GO ! GO !" and vigorously waving at the girl to get moving.
" Wha...?"
" GOOOOOOOO ! For the love of christ, GOOOOOOO !"
The girl was oblivious to her fate, but the look on my fathers face and he started waving and running across the green must have been enough because she hit the gas and started moving again.
SMASH...the club hit the back of the lunch cart portion of the vehicle with a crash. The girl paused again, look around confused, and drove off.
My hope is that she assumed it was an errant ball, but just to be safe I tipped her $6 the next time around. And I congratulated her on the Series.
10 minutes after parking my car, I realized I was in New Jersey. 4 Italians stood on the tee trying to cut and light their cigars while 45 carts full of Asians patiently waited to go off the first tee. Finally the starter came out and suggested the gentlemen consider teeing off.
The four guys, of course playing from the back tees, proceeded to boomerang four balls into the woods and spent another 10 minutes calling the starter a motherfucker and blaming their shots ( not on their horrible swings) on being rushed off the tee. And you know these are the same 4 guys who would have called the starter a motherfucker if he wasn't chasing the people ahead of THEM.
Of course they never played their balls in the woods, but instead dropped four balls in the fairway as compensation for this grave injustice. I suspect they were lawyers and or Catholics.
Using duct tape and kite string I cobbled together a 40 on the front nine and headed into the back with the hope of breaking 80 on a really challenging course.
On the par 5 12th hole I hit a great drive and was sitting at the 200 yard marker with the hope of reaching in two and going either eagle or birdie when my approach shot clipped the tip of the thinnest, barest, single branch hanging just over the edge of the fairway and the ball dropped just short of the green. OK, fine then....no worries...I'll just chip it on, one or two putt and get out of there.
The area around this particular hole looked like the front lawn of the White House. As far as you could seen in every direction was a vast ocean of perfectly groomed, emerald green grass. The entire area was unblemished except for one spot....one singular silver dollar size spot of bare dirt in the entire expanse of land between the tee and the green...and it was the spot diretly under my ball.
Now I was getting a little bit pissed off.
Between myself and the hole was a sand bunker, and behind the hole was some deep rough. I needed to pick this ball off the dirt patch, clear the bunker, but have enough loft so the ball wouldn't roll off the back and into the deep grass. Its wasn't impossible but it was going to necessitate a very good shot.
I took a calming breath and addressed the ball. I locked in and drew the club back slowly and.....WHIRRRRRRRRR......CLUNK....WHIRRRRRRRRRRR. Right in the middle of my back swing, the cart girl came buzzing around and evergreen tree full speed and right past me. CLUNK my ball went on a line drive over the bunker, past the hole, and disappeared off the green in 4 inches of thick rough on the other side. Furious, I spun around to say something, but she kept going by with a smile and a wave. She headed over the the next hole to sell some beer to the guys ahead of us.
The bitch was wearing a Yankees hat.
So now I"m really steaming but all is not lost. If I could somehow get the ball onto the green I could still possibly get a par and at least a bogey. And that's the torture of the game - from eagle to bogey from 10 yards out. Again I tried to calm myself and stay in the moment. My ball was sitting down in the grass and the only way to get it out of there was to make a daring play. Despite a short distance to the hole, I had to open up the face, make a full swing, and get under the ball. Anything more than that and I would go over the green. Anything less than that and the ball would only move a few inches.
I took a half dozen practice swings to build my courage, got comfortable and addressed the ball. I drew the club all the way back and coiled myself for a full swing.....WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRR.....CLUNK. Right at the apex of my swing that Derek Jeter loving bitch came flying by again. My club slammed into the ground a good half foot behind the ball and the chunck of dirt went next to the hole while my ball moved about an inch and a half.
Angrily I spun around to see her driving off into the distance. Insane with rage I lifted my wedge over my head like a tomahawk and in an act of defiance hurled it at the cart. Now I recognize that I'm crazy, but I'm not criminal. I threw the club at the girl, but she was a good 30 yards away in a cart going 10 miles per hour. I've done enough 5th grade math problems concerning trains leaving New York and Boston to know that by the time my club got to where she was, she'd be another 30 yards away oblivious to my outburst.
What they don't factor in for 5th grade is that the train leaving Boston might suddenly stop if the conductor mistakes your yelling " Bitch !" for you yelling " BEER !"
What had been an outburst of protest was turning into criminal assault at 20 yards and closing. The wedge spun end over end, implausibly on a dead trajectory for the Yankees logo. My father and my Uncle, who up to this point had simply been observers were about to become accomplices and suddenly, thankfully, they started screaming.... " GO ! GO ! GO !" and vigorously waving at the girl to get moving.
" Wha...?"
" GOOOOOOOO ! For the love of christ, GOOOOOOO !"
The girl was oblivious to her fate, but the look on my fathers face and he started waving and running across the green must have been enough because she hit the gas and started moving again.
SMASH...the club hit the back of the lunch cart portion of the vehicle with a crash. The girl paused again, look around confused, and drove off.
My hope is that she assumed it was an errant ball, but just to be safe I tipped her $6 the next time around. And I congratulated her on the Series.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Enough about Floyd
Every morning my newsfeed informs me of Floyd Landis' standing in the Tour of Southland or whatever meaningless race is going on in the southern hemisphere.
Besides the absurdity of listing the result of anyone else besides the leader, it made me consider, " who the hell is Floyd Landis ?"
He gets treated as cycling royalty and gets mentioned as a rider of the same class as Contador and Armstrong, but really, what has the guy accomplished ?
The ONLY year that they guy achieve ANYTHING is 2006...the year he got caught cheating.
Other than that his two biggest results are a win at the Tour of Algarve...booya...and a local USCF event, the Boulevard Road Race...which includes as a winner Heath Blackgrove who ironically enough is winning the our of Southland although no one outside of his mother actually knows about it.
And this is the fundamental problem with limited punishment for a cheating peice of crap like Landis. He's a guy who cheated the sport, then cheated friends and family out the their money with his bullshit legal defense fund, and who took resources away from WADA and USADA's ability to catch other dopers while the dealt with his bullshit appeal after appeal.
And in the end, riders like Oscar Piero, Heath Blackgrove, and countless others scrape together a living in cycling anonymity - while Landis continues to prosper and financially benefit from the exposure garnered ONLY through results and notoriety he achieved while cheating.
OK, silly picture time courtesy Marcie (thanks!)
Besides the absurdity of listing the result of anyone else besides the leader, it made me consider, " who the hell is Floyd Landis ?"
He gets treated as cycling royalty and gets mentioned as a rider of the same class as Contador and Armstrong, but really, what has the guy accomplished ?
The ONLY year that they guy achieve ANYTHING is 2006...the year he got caught cheating.
Other than that his two biggest results are a win at the Tour of Algarve...booya...and a local USCF event, the Boulevard Road Race...which includes as a winner Heath Blackgrove who ironically enough is winning the our of Southland although no one outside of his mother actually knows about it.
And this is the fundamental problem with limited punishment for a cheating peice of crap like Landis. He's a guy who cheated the sport, then cheated friends and family out the their money with his bullshit legal defense fund, and who took resources away from WADA and USADA's ability to catch other dopers while the dealt with his bullshit appeal after appeal.
And in the end, riders like Oscar Piero, Heath Blackgrove, and countless others scrape together a living in cycling anonymity - while Landis continues to prosper and financially benefit from the exposure garnered ONLY through results and notoriety he achieved while cheating.
OK, silly picture time courtesy Marcie (thanks!)
Thursday, November 05, 2009
This Is Water - DFW
In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And an outstanding reason for choosing some sort of God or spiritual-type thing to worship -- be it J.C. or Allah, be it Yahweh or the Wiccan mother-goddess or the Four Noble Truths or some infrangible set of ethical principles -- is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.
If you worship money and things -- if they are where you tap real meaning in life -- then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you.
On one level, we all know this stuff already -- it's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness. Worship power -- you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart -- you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. And so on.
Look, the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful; it is that they are unconscious. They are default-settings. They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing. And the world will not discourage you from operating on your default-settings, because the world of men and money and power hums along quite nicely on the fuel of fear and contempt and frustration and craving and the worship of self.
Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom to be lords of our own tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day.
This Is Water, David Foster Wallace
If you worship money and things -- if they are where you tap real meaning in life -- then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you.
On one level, we all know this stuff already -- it's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness. Worship power -- you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart -- you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. And so on.
Look, the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful; it is that they are unconscious. They are default-settings. They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing. And the world will not discourage you from operating on your default-settings, because the world of men and money and power hums along quite nicely on the fuel of fear and contempt and frustration and craving and the worship of self.
Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom to be lords of our own tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day.
This Is Water, David Foster Wallace
How do you stack up ?
Remember the President Council on Physical Fitness tests you did in school as a kid ? Yeah the ones where you could just about do all the stuff except for the pull ups...and then you'd get pissed because the all the girls had to do was the flexed arm hang.
Anyway I looked those up yesterday.
Standards for 17 year old to meet the 85th percentile
Boys
55 sit-ups in 1 minute
8.7 second shuttle run
6:06 for the mile
53 push-ups ( not timed but continuous)
13 pull-ups
Those friggin pull-ups got me AGAIN !
Here the link for all the standards.
Anyway I looked those up yesterday.
Standards for 17 year old to meet the 85th percentile
Boys
55 sit-ups in 1 minute
8.7 second shuttle run
6:06 for the mile
53 push-ups ( not timed but continuous)
13 pull-ups
Those friggin pull-ups got me AGAIN !
Here the link for all the standards.
Home Run
IOZ consistantly hits it out of the park
As benedictory aphorisms go, "every vote counts" is right up there with your mother telling you that everyone is special and your coach reminding you that it doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's how you play the game. Obviously some poeople are more special than others, and no one remembers the sportsmanlike conduct of Dallas in Superbowl X. The conceit of representative democracy, particularly when linked to state capitalism, is that procedural participation makes citizens into shareholders. There is a certain truth to this. But just as getting a yearly proxy statement and invitation to the annual meeting does not confer upon each small investor even marginal influence on the direction of GE, or whichever, nor yet does the franchise offer citizens much more than a semiannual opportunity to pretend that they matter, should they so desire. And, hell, that is part of the bargain. The small investor becomes a shareholder in order to gain benefit even though he holds no particular authority, has no say, exerts no influence, and bears no special responsibility. He's just along for the ride, but for the PR purposes of our so-called free markets, we are willing to entertain the ritual but un-literal truth that each shareholder is an "owner." Meanwhile, most shareholders haven't even got so direct a link as the independent investor, but simply gain by membership in some larger, institutional investment pool, some mutual fund or pension plan or what have you. Our democracy tracks similar lines via voters and affinity groups, and so long as the percieved value of our tiny shares is on the increase, we are content; when it decreases, we are not; but at no point do we have any say in the decisions made by those who actually own the joint.
and now your funny picture
As benedictory aphorisms go, "every vote counts" is right up there with your mother telling you that everyone is special and your coach reminding you that it doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's how you play the game. Obviously some poeople are more special than others, and no one remembers the sportsmanlike conduct of Dallas in Superbowl X. The conceit of representative democracy, particularly when linked to state capitalism, is that procedural participation makes citizens into shareholders. There is a certain truth to this. But just as getting a yearly proxy statement and invitation to the annual meeting does not confer upon each small investor even marginal influence on the direction of GE, or whichever, nor yet does the franchise offer citizens much more than a semiannual opportunity to pretend that they matter, should they so desire. And, hell, that is part of the bargain. The small investor becomes a shareholder in order to gain benefit even though he holds no particular authority, has no say, exerts no influence, and bears no special responsibility. He's just along for the ride, but for the PR purposes of our so-called free markets, we are willing to entertain the ritual but un-literal truth that each shareholder is an "owner." Meanwhile, most shareholders haven't even got so direct a link as the independent investor, but simply gain by membership in some larger, institutional investment pool, some mutual fund or pension plan or what have you. Our democracy tracks similar lines via voters and affinity groups, and so long as the percieved value of our tiny shares is on the increase, we are content; when it decreases, we are not; but at no point do we have any say in the decisions made by those who actually own the joint.
and now your funny picture
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Monday, November 02, 2009
The kid's got skills
I'm coaching flag football. We have one kid...every team has one kid...who has no idea how to play. Somehow the kid who doesn't know how to play is the same one who raises his hand to ask 100 inappropriate questions.
me: "This that's the play we're going to run...does anyone have any questions ?"
Kid: "My Mom makes me call her new friend Uncle Jack, but he's not really my Uncle. Do you think that bothers my real Uncle ?"
me (frantic): "...ABOUT THE PLAY !!!...does anyone have any questions about THE PLAY !"
Yesterday there were no port-o-pots so we asked the kids before the game, " Does anyone have to go ?" Unanamously no one had to go.
5 minutes into the game I get a tug on my sleave, " Sir ?"...he calls everyone taller than him "Sir" like that chick who follows around Peppermint Patty. " Sir, I have to go to the bathroom."
" Can you hold it, the game just started ?"
" Ummm, yes"
We went all the way through half-time and started into the third quarter when I got another tug, " Sir I have to go to the bathroom"
" Kid we just ended halftime...why didn't you go then ? Can you hold it ?"
" Ummmm, I don't think so. I really really have to go."
So while the other coach took care of the team I ran the kid off to some bushes, " OK go here."
" Are you sure this is ok ?"
" Yeah kid hurry up", not only did I have to get back to the game, but as a general principal I don't like to find myself in the bushes with a little kid and his pants down.
" Ok sir", and the little kid pulled his tighty-whiteys down and started peeing.
I had my back turned watching the game and heard what sounded like a garden hose. I turned around a bit to see what could only be describe as a yellow version of the St. Louis Arch. The tiny little 3'6" kid was peeing OVER a 6 foot bush.
" HOLY SMOKES KID !"
" Yeah sir, I said I really had to go"
The boy continued like that for another minute before I finally gave up, " I gotta get back to the game. When you're done, clean yourself up and come back to the sideline.
" Ok sir", and I left him standing there like the Fountain of Trevi.
me: "This that's the play we're going to run...does anyone have any questions ?"
Kid: "My Mom makes me call her new friend Uncle Jack, but he's not really my Uncle. Do you think that bothers my real Uncle ?"
me (frantic): "...ABOUT THE PLAY !!!...does anyone have any questions about THE PLAY !"
Yesterday there were no port-o-pots so we asked the kids before the game, " Does anyone have to go ?" Unanamously no one had to go.
5 minutes into the game I get a tug on my sleave, " Sir ?"...he calls everyone taller than him "Sir" like that chick who follows around Peppermint Patty. " Sir, I have to go to the bathroom."
" Can you hold it, the game just started ?"
" Ummm, yes"
We went all the way through half-time and started into the third quarter when I got another tug, " Sir I have to go to the bathroom"
" Kid we just ended halftime...why didn't you go then ? Can you hold it ?"
" Ummmm, I don't think so. I really really have to go."
So while the other coach took care of the team I ran the kid off to some bushes, " OK go here."
" Are you sure this is ok ?"
" Yeah kid hurry up", not only did I have to get back to the game, but as a general principal I don't like to find myself in the bushes with a little kid and his pants down.
" Ok sir", and the little kid pulled his tighty-whiteys down and started peeing.
I had my back turned watching the game and heard what sounded like a garden hose. I turned around a bit to see what could only be describe as a yellow version of the St. Louis Arch. The tiny little 3'6" kid was peeing OVER a 6 foot bush.
" HOLY SMOKES KID !"
" Yeah sir, I said I really had to go"
The boy continued like that for another minute before I finally gave up, " I gotta get back to the game. When you're done, clean yourself up and come back to the sideline.
" Ok sir", and I left him standing there like the Fountain of Trevi.
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