Good (insert comfort-giving deity here). Monday and Tuesday... I've been wiped out. No energy. Resting heart rate high 70s/low 80s. Still gotta get to work. Still gotta do the work. Still expected to get home. Food doesn't sound all that great to me. I think the world's best diet formula would be whatever hormone the body excretes after vomiting that makes all food as tempting as a pile of shit. I accidentally opened the Tupperware container full of the leftover Brussel sprouts from Saturday, and I felt the hurl nerves get way excite.
Reminds me of Christmas Eve Eve back in 1988. I had a broken foot at the time. My roommate and I went back down to YSU to hang out with Tupper, Biff and Ralph to drink and be dumb. Whiskey, Hersey Kisses, slam dancing to Wings... and eventual vomit. Black Velvet and chocolate vomit to be precise.
It took me months before I could even look at the Black Velvet billboard as I passed by it on Belmont Ave with choking back a vurp.
So, I gotta get out from under this dark cloud of post-sickness and get back to it. I realized that with the arrival of March 1st, I haven't been to the mountains since January 1st. Two months. Shit. The next few weeks... all the way until April 9th are pretty packed with things. Getting ready for Tour duh Charlotte, the actual Tour duh Charlotte, a short vacation, and then 6 Hours of Warrior Creek?
I'm supposed to get fit somewhere in there... which means I must be at the time of year when I get ready to go out for early morning rides only to be plunged into the darkness when the clocks spring forward.
Meh.
Good news is that the new 27.5+ wheels should be here this week.
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4 comments:
I haven't had a clean sht in years...
Advocat sez:
Literal LOL for "flubola" and "vurp"! I just recently was able to face an unmixed tequila, and then only the expensive stuff - the aroma of J. Quervo is still my "vurp" moment. Of course, will never, ever, want or be able to face a Boone's Farm bottle again (or MD 20-20, etc... all the other usual hurl suspects).
27+ are my exact thoughts. I think therefore fatter is better, but fattest is slowest. Think about this...no burrito, one lb burro or 6 lb'er...exactly
Just looking at a bottle of Black Haus can kill my desire to drink for the evening. Nothing like the 6am post-Hanukkah full blast projectile vomit for waking up the rest of the very hungover house. It seemed pretty good, mixed with Pepsi, on the way down, so I of course drank most of the fifth. Bad Idea.
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