Maybe it's the weather sneaking out of the 40s that has me more comfortable but all the time in the saddle is starting to mean something, more. Taking the gloves off to adjust the din and feel fresh air has me looking closer. Mentally making my list of rides I wanna do isn't easy when the question marks outnumber the periods. I am reluctant to call it spring right now, I think it's more after the hear of winter than Spring or even really Mud Season. It's just after, not even before Spring, just After.


Greater Than

"Spiders eating aphids off the roses on the wall"
I was never sure what that meant, I wrote it a long time ago and think about it frequently as I pedal another solo mile. The wind and the din only add noise, the iPod (yeah I'm one them) doesn't do much to cut the sound in my head, it seems like there is more noise and thought and shit coming out than going in. The constant barrage of thoughts and pictures and ideas is the whale to the plankton that is incoming stimuli.
Inside it's getting harder to piece together the Winter work, I know what the simple equation makes, I know where the lines are that I have to cross. Throwing it all up in the air, see where the pieces land. Order in the chaos, comfortable, clean.


Little pieces make the balance sheet equal out,

Pushing outside where the rollers are probably better.



I like when the motivation gets in front of the lazy. The clear choice becomes less of a choice and the foregone conclusion takes over, suddenly it's 3 outside and I'm pedaling. Better, cleaner. A bit off to the side, probably left of center.



Little pictures are posting, looking closer warmer asphalt,
No warm weather visits again this winter,
Just poaching a day here, and again
Snow fades after a few hours, making the day easier.


Viced grip

I am looking for my wagon, unsure if I have fallen off of it, or if it is lost too. Having nearly eliminated a lot of shit without too much hassle I push thru the fresh snow on wheels when I should have been on skis. Picking my vices, half and half? a bit of butter on my bagel/toast? Delicious dark chocolate bacon candy bar that lasted 2 days? All of it qualifies as extra, not needed. Doing 2 hours in 25 degree slushy wet snow must earn a little wiggle room, no? I guess that's my trick for the spring; as I look to summer goals and the barriers to hop in the fall. What stays, what goes, thin out what is making me slower, push thru the lazy, get to my bare essentials.


Early on, it was a battle to put up anything resembling a good result. Then the pattern slowly revealed itself, be careful of what you do all year and the racing will be better. A lemon wedge in my water bottles was a clear advantage, spit once on the climb and get the shit out. Not trying to clear a long hanger off your chin while holding a wheel or pushing up to the next rider was a plus. Unacceptable to look like you were suffering as much as you were suffering. A little poker, a bit of a bluff, look smoother and you feel smoother.


I'm not ready for the violent efforts, I know they are there for the taking but I'm not there yet. I like to take the miles as they come this time of year, the skis aren't yet away and the bike is always ready but sometimes the engine is slower to get revving, no red lining, or the that spells other issues. Quietly putting in the hours until the picture matches the still life. Maybe mid April or it can be May. But, for now it's slow days allowing the weather and the engine to work as one unit, forcing isn't the proper way, lazy days only spell surfeit, getting in the time is most important, by any means necessary.


Not rainy

I waited until the heart of the afternoon, hoping it would warm up enough so I wouldn't court the attention of the tendinitis. Ducking in and out of path of the southbound freight train wind. I don't know if it broke 25 while we were out there. Not much of a problem just dodge the artic wind. Bundled up enough that I only had an ice cream headache to begin, not at the end. Other guys would either be sitting at the bar or smart enough to stay in and fight another day, I had the window, the points aligned and I jumped at it.


Letting the good days make my plan, letting the bad days make my rest. All part of the plan, remember, it's March and I'm not catching a check for this.

Early usually is better than later. Just remember to sleep the night before.


I forget where I found that. I like it. It makes me smile in ways jokes don't. This summer I hope to break myself into many pieces in ways I haven't done that much of before. Try to overextend a little more than you normally would and see what the body does.


I don't care about a ton of the things, they could fit on a list, on a very small piece of paper.

No gloves today. It was that nice.

Thank you

I want to thank whoever put the map where it is.
Whoever has the control of the sky, for making it clear today.
Didn't pave every road in Boulder County.
Clean and also dirty, the way it should be.



I have the weight of the winter fading and spring is getting closer.

Little chunks of goodness are getting pushed out of the slush, the ice still wants to grab my feet, wheels,

Anything it can to get a hold and pull me down.



Sometimes I get a little off balance, the food, the training, oh yeah, family stuff. Shift it all to one side and the ship lists, keep it all in the middle and hopefully I don't go under water. Food as a metaphor; good stuff in good stuff out, the 2 times weekly candy may fix short term, but long run? Dicey, at best. Maybe I should switch 100% to Clif Bars, less guilt, but that takes away my best training tool. Oddly this shit show isn't getting harder to produce, easier in some ways. I just need to carve out of my block my own little sculpture, all it takes is time and all it costs is calories.

Up Stream

I feel pretty uneasy today, not sure why, it's this odd sinking feeling. Like I'm only treading water and at any point the current could pull me under. Like I missed something major, not quite sure what it is that's haunting me but I know where it lingers and what it does. Maybe fatigue is playing tricks with my head. The next thing to get done is just out of reach. I don't entirely mind, I have the lines in my head; the intersections mapped out enough to give me a few minutes of pause each time I arrive at the next. The nervouse energy is channeled elsewhere and needs to end up on the pedals or on the skis. Nothing else.


On the left and the right it gets tighter all the time. I'd like the bike and the skis to come with a tool kit to carve out more time. A special implement that gave an hour or more but worked. Kept the sides clean and the middle clear.



At some point this week I will fall off the wagon and eat really bad food. As the time and intensity piles up the blow off valve in a nasty sandwich. My own way of making sure I'm nothing more than a club cyclist, though one who works his ass off to be thoroughly mediocre.


Early up before I want to have my eyes open and I can see that sleep right now, today, is done. I love this piece of graffiti, I may have posted it before, but it cracks me up.
A clear head can take so much off the plate, more and better sleep can result. I lack all of that. I want to slow down, more. Take steps one at a time. Training and family keeps that flow, balance and clarity, nothing else offers it. Success is there, slow and quiet.



Somehow I managed to cram it in. The only casualty; my toes. I'm soft.


Before the ride I was a barely a 6, after a solid 6.5, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Red Days

I want to find this spot. Until then I hope to fill in the holes that Winter digs. The air is a little bit fresher, less biting as I step out in to the morning chill. I smile inside as the air wakes me a bit more, the first pedal stroke opens the lungs and pushes home the point that I'm not there. The espresso taste barely
lingering as the embrocation dominates my frozen nose wafting up through my jersey and jacket.
Going without is key this time of year, if the kms aren't getting put away neither should the extra helping. Skeptical of every bite and every pedal stroke and every push on the skis. My balance sheet teeters into the black most days making me long for the red days. The red makes me feel like an athlete, I'm not, but at least I feel like one. Red days when you go to bed not full, but tired and happy that you did the work that day. Crisp sore muscles and sleep that is there before you even lay down. My own institutional living, Having spent about 15 years getting to this place has left me with a pretty good idea of how things need to be, change is ok, maybe sometimes it's even good. A little bit of quiet time adds the opportunity for the red days. You know when you have one. You can't lie to yourself, it only makes you slow(er). Get your shit together, put in the time, no substitutes, that would be cheating. No news, only rehashing what worked last year. Do you need that doughnut? What about the extra splash cream in your coffee? Ask the questions because in July that climb is going to be longer you think it is, the shit in your legs isn't there by accident.