Thursday, January 10, 2013

Urbans, Trainers, and Dirt

I must start with one observation to which I feel inclined to address.  It involves a certain activity that some of my peers have been taking part of as of late.  Unlike activities that my friends of the past have gotten me into, I will not cave to this one.  I've been talked into doing it all, from pinching girlies booties in grade school, to huffing paint in middle school, to straight up anarchy burning shit to the ground in high school.  I'm a changed man, and nothing these wankers say or do will change my mind and make me embrace the fat like they so have.  So next time one of you asses tell me how cool you are, or how you just floated over that tree limb, or how you can ride a creek bottom like a rock star but can't climb a hill for shit, save it.  Save it, or I'll punch you in your face.

I can't wait to see the plethora of fat bikes for sale this spring.

On to other news, its 2013.  I know I'm a little late to the party on that one, but it's been 5 weeks since my last confession on this here blog.  I must admit, I haven't touched my bike once.  The Epic that is, I've ridden the shit out of the rest of them.

From urban rides to find hidden and foreign land gravel, to the 2x20's once a week on the trainer, to the frozen dirt tundra.  I even managed two back to back days at Swope on New Years day and the one after for some packed snow goodness.  Wyco has still been the hot spot for Sunday mornings, and I've also rebuilt up the Stumpy HT as a SS.  Fox fork, (yes Jessie, I know I still owe you), Eno cranks, shit brakes, and a pair of Specialized Carbon Control hoops to keep it rolling.  It went on it's maiden voyage last Sunday.  Fun I tell ya.

I think I once nixed hardtails forever, but up north all of our trail systems are ginger so you can pretty much ride them on any bike and still be comfortable.  Carbon rims also help migrate some of the vibrations so they don't reach your ass and up your back quite as much.  Bottom line is the SS will be regulated to Wyco, Smithville, and Stocksdale.  Ya, it sure is rough in this hood.  I mean have you ever had to choose between a Stumpy HT, FSR, or Epic?  It's not easy business I tell ya.  Alas, I understand I'm a lucky lad, but then again my priorities revolve around bikes, and selling them.  I'm not sad by that fact, even if once in a blue moon I envy you family men and women.  One day... One day me and my Sweet Thang will be together, but until then it's off to the races.  Per say...

Training is good... Life is good... Diet is good.  I've been making the life changeover as of late, and it's always tough.  Going from drinking like a sailor, partyboying, and eating like a garbage disposal to a somewhat sober, well dieted athlete is never easy.  But this isn't my first rodeo cowboy, and if you can ride the bull once, you can do it again.  

I did a urban ride the other day, and upon riding home I decided to see how my pain threshold was fairing.  Up the Paseo climb me and my stumpy went, and deep, deep, deep down my pain dove.  When I emerged I was aware that I had likely dunked deeper than I have in a long time, and I came out good.  Sometimes you have to push past what you body thinks is impossible, just so that you can further down the road re-visit that feeling when it matters the most, like at pivotal moment in a race.  I suggest you do the same sometime.  Just when it starts to hurt push harder, then when you think your about to pass out, push harder, and lastly when you think you might have just died and are wandering upward to the gates of heaven, push a little harder.  Then stop.  Literally, you may want to stop because you likely may just pass out.  But you did it, and now you body knows how much harder it can truly go.

It's a true breakdown month.  One of those months were you mix in some decent hours and some decent intensity to make for an overall higher workload in order to give your body that last push it needs to enter the season.  Then comes February.  Oh February how I loath thee. Not only do you make me one year older, but you usually spit shit at me when I'm riding my bike and are rarely nice enough to at least do so in a warmly manner.  But I will push on.  

Good luck to those up in the great white north this weekend.  I wanna see some strips and stars come home.