Friday, July 11

Let's get back to the somethings

I came back from Virginia to much happy things.

These woulda been perfect for Le Tour... not so much for work.

8 Lumens, makers of irreverent socks and t-shirts with our favorite doper on the front.

Lance doped... in case you weren't paying attention.  Everyone else was (shut up, Dick).  Life goes on and we still watch the Tour because a flat 100+ mile stage that ends in a seven man sprint is still a thousand times better than watching soccer.  At least someone always wins.

I think I get more entertainment from the Facebook dialogue that takes place amongst my Facefriends regarding all things Tour'esque.  So easy to watch and judge the actions of our peers... peers that are way better at making great bike race, ride at a whole 'nother level and pretty much have only one thing in common with my Facefriends... a desire to ride around on two wheels in our underwear. So not really our peers at all.  They're just aliens with similar wardrobes.

What a pussy...

Well, there was that. 

Mad respect to anyone who races bikes at the highest level... even if it's on road bikes.  I haven't "touched the floor" in some time, but best I can remember, it hurts like a son of a bitch.  I most definitely haven't done it two or three times in a matter of just a few days.  I doubt he withdrew from the race after a year's preparation and hard work just because they had beer at the finish.  Who would do such a thing?

"But Tyler Hamilton rode to a stage victory with a broken collar bone and ground 28 teeth into sand from the pain..."

Who gives a fuck?

Maybe Froome is smarter than that.  He came to win the Tour.  With that in mind, if he (and his directeur sportif) say it ain't gonna happen, why stay in and do more damage when maybe, just maybe, he can sit up, recover and maybe kill the Vuelta?  Oh yeah, we're Americans.  It's the Tour or see you next July.

He's 29 years old.  He'll be back.

Pro road bike cycling.  It's entertainment.  Marketing.  Merchandising.  A good way to waste three weeks of evenings in July.  It's the thing they do and you don't.

Where was I?  Oh yeah, I also got my ready for prime time production Thomson 27.2 drooper post.

Two bikes, both drooping now.

I've been eating the rigid riding up a lot lately, but now I can't wait to droop and squish all over some obstacles.

I love mountain biking.  The only people I have to trust are the engineers and frame builders who designed all my bicycle parts.  No touching wheels, no dodgy peletons, no media motorcycles, no selfie-snapping fans.  Me, my bike and the obstacles in my path... which I shall not fear.

Unless it's those stairs at the top of Reddish Knob... they haunt my dreams.

1 comment:

Chris said...

I usually read you blog each morning before hoping on my bike for my commute to work. Tuesday-Friday this week ive literally lol'd while on the crapper (where I do my most intellectual reading) thanks to you.

Just wanted to let you know I really enjoy your way with words (not just cas im drunk at home watching the tour).

Thanks for the morning laughs, Dicky