Friday, March 20

They Speak English in What?

My last night in the hammock was Tuesday.  One solid week of sleeping in a novelty-sized cloth scrotum, me the lone testicle.  My back (upper and lower) feels better.  Still not 100%, but far from the Marcellus Wallace state that I've been lingering in for the past few months.

I've also done my best to limit the time I spend on the computer, at home and at work.  I've got terrible form... which is funny, I guess.   I need to get fit to a desk more than I need a bike fit.  In order to stay away from hopping on one of three non-ergonomically set up computers at work in my down time, I've taken up reading... again.  I credit that and some seriously busy spurts of actual messenger work, nicely timed with the incredible weather we've been having.

If only Pre-economic Collapse me could know that someday I'd be excited about getting an 1850 East 3rd back to back with a 1230 West Morehead (piled on top of five other runs)... and with a tight deadline.   That shit used to piss me off, but now I'm all like, "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"  Granted, it was 72° and bluebird skies.

Probably going to the mountains tomorrow, mostly because I promised some yinzers that I'd show them around Wilson's Creek again.

Dahn Pahrs (former tennis pro, current drag queen) and his entourage are coming down once more to slay the Pisgah.  I consider them my little friends, and I can't miss the opportunity to see them, if only to remind myself that they're just okay and that I don't need to see them all that often.

And lest I forget, we're one week away from the 2015 Tour duh Charlotte.

Registration is still cheaper than an XT cassette in 1995, but not by much.  I've hyped this "race" about as much as I can, but suffice it to say it's the one event I wish I could do more than just about any other but can't because I might end up having to serve pizza or something.  My Faster Mustache teammates showed pity on me and my neurosis by seeing to it that I didn't have to be in charge of a stage because it makes me bat-shit crazy.  I'm more of a helpy-helperson (people pleaser), a person who sees potential issues (a critical asshole), and a problem solver (solving the problems that I myself created). 

So yeah, mebbe they'll let me serve pizza or distribute beer or take down course tape or ring a cow bell.  Something that will keep me out of the way but still make me feel useful.


That is all.

No comments: