Oversight

A little oversight like not tightening a valve stem nut leads to filthy hands and a healthy amount of stoppage time on the side of the road looking for the offending staple, tack... debris. Clicking thru the gears forever searching the contact patch for the return of softening tire. Getting back after the tempo allows precious little rest, put away the past- look forward, we are only as good as our last result, mine sucked- so I train like the next is the last. 

Knees

When it's warm enough to not have any covering on his legs he always notices his knees, looking for that slight irregularity in the pedal stroke. Where that leads, tendonitis? Worn out too soon meniscus? All of it runs on a loop in the head, the wind and the cars, the trees and the trail isn't enough to distract the formation of doubt. The creation of problems that don't yet exist. Though they grow, steamroll, snowball into the invisible 400 pound gorilla.

Dinner

Piss

easier

Pouring rain didn't make getting out any harder today, the promise of mid day snow made mere raindrops easy. 2+ hours in a downpour, soaked thru put on more of a smile than a grimace. Rewards are a little way off but in the meantime I'll take my little mid week victories over laziness and ennui.

Percent

What's the matter with riding around a farmer's field? What goes better than peanut sauce and rice and hot proper jalapenos...the perfect dismount, getting over the fucked and getting the shit back together and lined up like the right way to move it. What is cross 5% racing and 95% preparation, maybe something like that. Don't let yourself get complacent and lose the opportunity you had close at hand. Keep your ass in line. Don't fuck it up again.

Mumford And Sons - Maroquinerie - Little Lion Man from valerie toumayan on Vimeo.

More

Limping thru the day without so much as a good warm thought, until I get it together and push the shit out and clear the mind thru the wringer. I like what I have but want more, not necessarily more of the same. Pleasantries aside, more, fucking more.

Sore Sunday

It's 4am, I've been up an hour and the soreness just kind of hovers over the outside of my wrists and the back of my neck. I hate the feeling, I'm not broken (wrists, that is) but the rest of me feels like shit. I think I'll skip the race today and live to fight another day. It blows, but with a broken bike and wheels to sort out-it's best. Not a good thing, I was comfortable riding in the front and then the bike and I split up, a soft Dugast and concrete. Ouch.

If I had to choose a new saddle over new pedals I think my feet would win over my ass. The feel of fresh meshing of the foot and bike, tactile sensation.

Legs twisted like short vines to warm up,
Racing the race over and over in my head,
By myself riding the course, vision of the root, the off camber stretches.