Olympic Recap

So the Olympics have been over for a week and I have had time to reflect about the games and what they mean to me…

-I still think that if you are over 12 and ride a BMX bike you might be a loser. If the most marketed thing about your sport in Olympic coverage is crashes – that’s a bad thing.

-Synchronized diving, and rhythmic gymnastics are for people that weren’t quite good enough to compete in the real events. Also see Ice Dancing in the winter Olympics.

-The Chinese cheated. Well duh! I think that the important thing to remember is that our athletes got beat by 12 year olds. That should put things in perspective.

-Sports with subjective scoring systems suck.

-Have Jamaicans always been that fast? Hmmm…

-The rules about what country you can compete for seem a little loosy goosy. So if you aren’t good enough at a sport in your own country you can switch to another to compete at the Olympics. Maybe next Olympics I can be a cyclist from Djibouti.

-They say the Olympics are about the essence of sport. I call BS. If you are sponsored by VISA the only thing you are the essence of is capitalism. If you want to see the essence of sport go to grade school at recess and watch the kids play ball. Don’t stay long, someone will think you are a pedophile.

-Thank you Kristen Armstrong for making it a little more acceptable to be a spandex wearing biker fag in Boise, Idaho. Now that is a legacy.

-The only thing that would make women’s beach volleyball better is Bacardi Mojito commercials.

-Michael Phelps needs some braces, but he’s so fast you probably didn’t notice.

Wow, I love the Olympics.

Proud Moments

Yesterday my 5 year old son told me that he wanted to go ride his bike - because he was going to 'race his red hotwheels bike in the olympics' - and needed to practice.

A little later he told me he wanted to have a 'Teenager' party with Brianna, Caliope, and Anna. He wants to have it at nanners house so they can swim in the hot tub and nanners can make them strawberry smoothies.

I am a little disturbed.

The Equine Ghetto

So I was so excited about the prospect of carnies on my commute that I forgot to mention something that I have been meaning to bitch about for a while. I remembered this morning when I was discussing carnies with a friend at work.

I hate horses. I am pretty sure I hate horses. They are big, they are dumb, and they are very much horse like. That’s why it shouldn't bother me when I ride my bike past the horse ghetto by the race track – but it does bother me to ride past the horse ghetto.

By the fairgrounds there are these buildings (I use the term loosely) where the race horses live when they are not, umm, racing. The poor horses have plywood ‘buildings’ and some of the middle class horses have concrete buildings, I think the rich horses just drive in for the races in hummers then go back to Eagle after they are done.

The poor horses are so poor they chew on their ‘buildings’ – so around the edges the ‘buildings’ look all dry and raw and rough – much like the wood you might choose if you wanted to start a fire.

They must eat the buildings when they get done eating the nice dry hay that hangs in baskets by their doors. The hay looks much like something that you might use as kindling is you, say, wanted to start a fire.

The poor horses don’t have it all bad though. There is always a monster pile of saw dust/wood chip stuff at the end of the 'buildings' – you know, like the stuff some places use to burn to generate power and heat. I think the floors of the poor horse houses are covered with this so it is nice and soft and absorbs their urine. A nice touch I think.

Also, so the poor horses don’t suffer so bad that their performance suffers they have big electric fans. Which require electricity. Which requires wires (sometimes exposed). Which run all over the wood ‘building’.

Now I am know expert, but I think there might be a fire hazard (or two) there…

On the other hand, I think the middle class and rich horses should be ok.

Now I am no fan of horses, but I think I would like cooked horses even less.

The Carnies are Coming! The Carnies are Coming!

I must say, I have been mired in a bit of a malaise lately. The summer is ending, my son started kindergarten, my body is broken, AND I haven’t commuted on my bike to work much lately. When I have biked to work I haven’t seen anything bizarre – or maybe I am just not ‘feeling it’ and seeing the bizarrity (I made that up) in mundane things.

So Tuesday I rode my bike to work. I was determined to see something bizarre. On my way to work I was disappointed – either there was nothing bizarre going on or it was too damn dark to see anything bizarre. Thats ok, I was optimistic for the ride home as there would be a ton of people out. But alas – nothing strange.

There was the BMX guy going ‘no hands’ with his hands out to his sides and making airplane noises – that’s a bit different. And I guess the drunken pirate guy was kind of neat – he had a sweet pirate bandana, no shirt, and funky ripped pants. The smell of alcohol as I went past inspired me to say ‘AAARRRGGGHHH’. I don’t think he liked that – next time I will try “Ahoy there me hardy”.

I guess that stuff was ok. They are building a new structure along the green belt where all the bums live. I am not sure what it is supposed to be – but I know what it will turn into – bum housing. That will be nice. I also know that it gives me a chance to play cyclocross racer for 100 yards a day where the paved green belt is closed.

There was Lance Armstrong look alike guy too (not to be confused with Lance Armstrong wannabe guy). LALAG actually looks like LA. He always rides in a button up shirt and khaki shorts – clearly a commuter. His face looks like LA. LA in the tour in 2003. The year he suffered. Specifically he looks like LA on that stage to Luz Ardiden where LA crashed, go back up, and won – and looked vaguely like an unhealthy pasty skeleton doing it. That’s what LALAG looks like on the green belt. I am pretty sure dude is going to rupture something. Dude, take it easy.



I saw that the carnies have moved into the campground by the fairgrounds. That is a promising development. Surely I will see something odd next week.

Voo Doo and Mt. Doom

Did you ever see that movie with the Hobbits that had to climb the gnarly mountain and throw the evil ring in the cracks of doom? That was me on Saturday – I was the hobbit that had to carry the ring – you know, the one that it sucked the most for. The mountain was Mt. Harrison down by Albion, it is just like Mt Doom from the movie only a little bit steeper – especially at the top. There wasn’t a ring, or a crack of doom – but the part about it sucking, that part was definitely there.

The ride was only like 17 miles, and there was only one hill, so how hard could it be, right? Pomerelle Ski resort (which is on Mt. Doom) is probably the flattest, lamest ski resort in America so how hard could it be to ride a bike to the top, right?

It may have been ok if I hadn’t gone to the Voodoo doctor the day before. Definitely shouldn’t go to a Voodoo doctor for the first time ever the day before a race. The Voodoo guy made my body go all Rice Crispies, made me feel all loosey goosey, and told me to take it easy for a few days. Well I am a specialist at taking it easy during bike races – so I thought it would be no problem. Little did I know that you can’t take it easy on Mt. Doom.

I was good for the first mile. After that it was all downhill (figuratively) and all up hill (literally). After a nice chat with a friend in the pack I dropped off the back and settled in to take it easy. A few miles later random body parts were hurting. A few miles after that someone put a belt around my chest and cinched it up as tight as it would go – oh, nevermind that was just the heartrate monitor. Speaking of, – 180 – that’s not good. A few miles after that all my body parts hurt. A few miles after that I was halfway there (oh oh living on a prayer).

Someone told me that the last few miles were the worst, so I knew when I was feeling the suckiest ever that I must be getting close to the top. Just around the next corner, dough! The next corner for sure, dough! A couple miles worth of dough! And then I saw the two miles to go sign. WTF, there isn’t anywhere up to go – just that cliff. So two nasty switchbacks up the cliff. I think the grade was about 100% give or take a few %. It is hard to ride straight when your head is spinning. If only I could turn the pedals as fast as my head.

So like 8 hours later I made it to the top. Eff, nice view – but it wasn’t worth it. 3 days out and random body parts still hurt. Never, ever again, at least until next year.

In Dirty Underwear

I am not sure, but I think my 5 year old son is a smart-ass. I have no idea where he got it, I mean I’m not a smart ass am I?

He has been watching a lot of Veggie Tales lately. A cartoon about religious vegetables. I don’t particularly care for religion, and I don’t like vegetables either – but Veggie Tales seems ok. Good lessons, some corny humor (no pun intended). Not bad for tv anyway.

One of my sons favorites is about standing up for what you believe in – good right? Actually not so much.

The other day my wife calls…

Wife - “I can’t get your son to change his clothes”

Me – “Umm, OK”

Wife – “Any idea’s”

Me – “Nope”

So I role home later and find my son wearing the same clothes he was wearing the day before. He didn’t want to change them because they were his favorite color – red.

Me – “Hi little dude, why don’t you go change your clothes”

Son – “OK”

Goes away and comes back in his dirty underwear, carrying new clean clothes…

Me – “Change your underwear too”

Son – “No, I can not”

Me – “What?”

Son – “Sorry dad, I have to stand up for what I believe in”

My son wore dirty underwear the rest of the day.

He believes in it. Dirty Underwear.

Roadside Lost and Found: Episode 5, A Missunderstanding

OK, so I am on my way home yesterday. I get to my neighborhood and what do I find laying in the gutter? Three beers - unopened.

The only explaination is that you read my blog yesterday and misunderstood. See, you are supposed to drink the beers first - then huck the can out the window. Ahhhhhhh...

So anyway, I have your beers. Whats left of your beers. There was a little bit of leakage.

Roadside Lost ant Found Episode 4: Vodka

Roadsides are for stuff that you enjoy but are too embarrassed to come home with. Fast food wrappers, cigarette butts, pornography, beer cans/bottles, and apparently vodka. Most people like fast food every now and then, but God forbid you should admit it or be caught with it – solution – throw the evidence out the window. Lots of people smoke but don’t want to live with the embarrassment of dealing with the mess caused by their filthy little habit (is that opinionated?) – solution - throw it out the window. EVERYONE enjoys a little nakedness now and then – don’t admit it, throw it out the window! Some law breakers like a beer in the car – this is illegal, not to mention your spouse (or mom) won’t like it – solution – throw it out the freaking window!

There is an alcoholic in my neighborhood who drinks a little shot bottle of Smirnoff everyday in the car. I am speculating he/she doesn’t want their spouse/parent to know – solution – throw it out the window!

“Honey, your breath smells funny?”

“Oh, that’s just mouthwash – I wanted to be fresh for you when I got home…”

At least I think the person is an alcoholic. Does drinking a Smirnoff a day make you an alchy?

I’m more of a Mike’s Hard Lemonade guy – I know that is like drinking wine coolers and makes me weak. Admitting that you like girly alcohol is like admitting you like Bon Jovi, but hey, ‘Dead or Alive’ is a good song right???

…errr, I mean Metallica ROCKS!! – pass the Jack Daniels!!