... is on fire.

Let's dip our toes into the shallow end of the pool first. 

I got new wheels.

Did I need new wheels?  Define "need."

When I built up the Vassago Meatplow V.8 almost two years ago, Industry Nine let me know that they had "something" up their sleeve... but it was gonna be months before it got released into the wild.  Without any other boost wheels laying aboot to put on the bike, I bought Torch 310c wheels.

They were fine... well, great actually.  At the time, they were the best wheels I'd ever owned.  Hands down.

But then Hydra came out and I got a set (with 310c rims) for the Vertigo Meatplow V.7 and then the 280c Ultralite rim came out and I dumped even more money into non-Boost technology because I'm an "athlete" and I care about "performance" and then there were no more bike cycle sport races and I ended up riding the Vassago a lot more than usual.

Tell me I'm crazy (you'd be the first... mebbe second), but I can tell the difference between 0.52° of engagement and 3° of engagement... and also the 200 gram weight difference between the wheelsets.  The Vertigo felt like a rocket and the Vassago felt less so...

Cat food is for cats.  Race wheels are for racing.  

Life is short.  YOLO and all that.  Assuming we "race" again someday, I can't say whether or not I'd grab the now even lighter Vassago... because suspension things don't feel like racing and I know that's dumb but... yeah.

So, 280c Ultralite because I'm barely 130 lbs dripping wet, and I can't wait to ride a "new bike" this weekend.

Now, let's jump into the deep end, after a red meat intense heavy meal, a few too many beers, no life guard standing by, and leaving our water wings back in the pool chair.

Pretending that everything is all rosey in Dickland isn't all that great.  I can't say that all this shit we're going through hasn't been destabilizing to some degree.  Every other week when I'm headed towards the big buildings to go to work, it's difficult to not feel like a deflating balloon of shared despair.  It's pretty much a ghost town in Uptown Charlotte, aside from all the construction, because I guess ghosts don't stop constructing things.

But I get it.  We (the few essential workers at the farm... I mean the firm) need to come in to support upwards of 300 attorneys and all the others working from home.   

But it's strange.  Wearing a mask all day as I sit here on a floor that's empty 99% of the time waiting to be called into action of some sort.  Sometimes I hear voices that aren't the ones in my head.  Occasionally, I'm getting outside and doing what I was hired to do. 

Mostly just perusing the internet and seeing professional bike racing picking back up in other countries and thinking...

"What did those other countries do right that we're doing so wrong... ?"

Oh yeah.

Dammit.

At least I'm healthy as well as my immediate family.  My daughter graduated this past Spring, so I don't have to think about what it would be like to send my kid back to school in this environment as we hurtled towards "will they or won't they?" scenarios all summer. 

Being fortunate.  I should be thankful.

But then all the unfortunate things that are happening to others on the daily weigh heavily on my mind, and I have so much time on my hands to dwell on things that aren't bikes and casual distractions.

Then there's my little friends.  I miss them.  I've kept my core group pretty tight in order to "do my part?"  The bike cycle racing people, the Bike Source people, The Spoke Easy people, the trivia night people... dare I say it?

The people at work?

I miss them.

Just getting the chance to do my job and see some smiling appreciative faces once in awhile (not that I'd be seeing 1/3 of their faces as things are right now).

*sigh*

I've been riding my bike a lot, but no matter where I am, it seems like it always takes twenty or so minutes before I can just "be."  My mind is everywhere but on the bike, riding seems stupid... I mean, I always end up back where I started, so what's the point?  The flow just isn't there.

But then it happens.  I'm looking at the next corner or feature or root or intersection and anticipating the next next next.  Riding becomes fun.  All-encompassing.  Nothing else matters.

Nirvana being achieved, I don't wanna get off the amusement ride just yet.  How much liquid do I have left in my bottles?  What time is someone expecting me to be somewhere?  Did I really just have a banana and coffee for breakfast this morning?  

Who cares?

How ironic that the sanest I tend to feel is when I'm totally absorbed in the silly, potentially harmful activity that is hurtling my body through the trees over uneven terrain at the greatest speeds I can attain under my own power hoping that more practice will make me stronger and hone my skills, thus adding more to that speed.

I think once I hit light speed, mebbe I find new hobby, no?