The Good Stuff

Saddles are fickle creatures. I don't know how other people go about finding the perfect booty perch, but I tend to be on the work your bum and hoo-ha into submission bandwagon. That sounded bad, I meant ride it till you get numb. I'll stop there. Thank God for Fizik test saddles. I had a big old Selle Italia woman's saddle that felt like I was sitting in the backseat of a '78 Cadillac wearing Pampers. It wasn't that it was not comfortable but, well it wasn't. It was too cushy, not to sound too graphic but it tended to be too squishy and cramped my style if you know what I mean. Thank God for Fizik test saddles, I went to Incycle bike shop, signed a paper, and took home a pretty neon green test saddle to ride for a week. I tried the Fizik Antares and once I finally figured out the right angle it was magic. I'm still going to try the Fizik women's saddle next week but I'm pretty much in love with the Antares.

I was just working on some new t-shirt designs and screen printing and I was feeling run down. So I went to the fridge and grabbed an FRS. Now I don't hate Lance and I don't love Lance but I do love that FRS. It has some sort of pixie dust in it. That's why I dig deep into my holey pockets for this overpriced voodoo juice. It tastes even better and works faster when it's half price.

After the FRS I got kind of peckish so I grabbed a Larabar of the gingersnap variety. Num, num.

Then I wanted a sweet taste, so I went and grabbed an ice cream. Never tried this one before, I usually get Dryers or Hagen-daz in the midget size. I saw Ciao Bella sitting up on the top shelf, which is were it belongs. Top shelf baby, I'm buying this stuff from now on. And no I didn't buy it because it had an Italian name, well maybe a bit. I ride and go to the gym all week so I can snack on naughty stuff.

Velopourri

Went riding this morning but it was with a cheeky, guilty monkey on my back. You see my husband came down with a bad cold this week and he's my weekend riding buddy. I felt like I should of stayed and stared at him waiting for a request or listen for a death rattle or something. He told me I should go so I went. It was a good thing too cause I finally saw the ghost pig. You see there's this house on what I call pig street. The name started last summer. I rode by this house and there was a fat old pot-bellied pig eating grass in the front yard. I saw it twice and ever since I ride by this house hoping to see it and today was my lucky day. Unfortunately John wasn't there to see it because he probably believes I made this whole story up for poops and giggles. But I got the next best thing, crappy photo on my phone. It looks like a retarded basset hound.

I've been watching the Tour De Suisse this week and oh my Lord, whats the process for an out of work cycle/surf bum to get citizenship over there. I'm gonna start selling Avon, there's ladies over there right. They have fondue, chocolate, beautiful countryside, and goats and little lambies. I'm in heaven. Plus it's close to Belgium, land of waffles, more chocolate, weather, and frites. I'd have to stalk up on Neutrogena pore cleanser or my Avon I'm gonna start selling, I'm sure they have zit crap right?.

I mention Tour De Suisse because of the sprinters crash in stage 2 or 3. Mark Cavendish, need I say more. Words can't express the anger I feel when I hear his nasally voice, or read a head up ass quote he gives to random journalists. And then I see him take out poor Heinrich Haussler, he became one of my favorites after stage 14 at last years Tour. I felt like he deserved it after Milan- San Remo. Now he's probably off the tour roster because he got an infection from his injury thanks to Markypoo. I did get a warm feeling in the bottom of my belly when I saw Tom Boonen ride over Mark's neck. Thanks Tom. Well I can't wait till July 3rd, 21 days of racing and Paul and Phil echoing through the house. Love those boys.

Pippi Ole!

We all have childhood heroes or role models, maybe they were athletes, comic book heroes, or God forbid teachers (Parents are a given). Some of us make the right choices when choosing a person or mutant wolverine to look up to, others, like me, chose Pippi Longstocking.

Everyone knows Pippi, redheaded pigtailed, incredibly strong, has her own house, hates school, loves adventure, and bloody rich. Hey, except for the bloody rich part I pretty much lived up to my childhood dreams. My hair is more auburn and less I Love Lucy though.

What little girl wouldn't want to be her. I wouldn't want to be associated with someone who didn't identify with or at least enjoyed watching her. I remember She would come on Saturdays and Sundays on channel 5 right after lunch. I usually had tuna sandwiches, vegetarian baked beans, and Frito's (holy crap! my breath could of probably rendered someone unconscious. I should of tried that on my brother).

I would watch her raise hell through the storybook Swedish villages and hang out with Tommy and Annika. I got issues with Annika though, even at a young age I hated girls like her, it's probably what sparked my hatred towards all these modern day high-maintenance bitches. As you can tell I have a hard time being friends with these types of girls. Which is why I like guy friends, but not since I got married. Back to the point, I love Pippi so I've been working on a single speed in honor of her and her contribution to my outlook on life. It's not complete but I got a good start.

Sophia

I am back to riding again, thank God. Unfortunately I feel super lazy and my glutes are killing me from Saturday. 10 days without riding and you fall apart. Tomorrow back in the saddle, and gym, and also starting a sugar fast. Today I am going to explain the meaning behind my baby's name. I chose Sophia because she is almost completely Italian, except for the FSA crankset (it's designed in WA state). Otherwise she is Campy, Fizik, Selle Italia, and an Italian made Bianchi frame (not Taiwan) thank you.My bambina, she is a spunky like Sophia Petrillo on the Golden Girls. Sohpia was also naughty and spoke her mind. Now, my bike can't express herself like that, but I can, since my bike is basically an extension of my inner self (alter ego?). I can't believe I would watch that show with my Grandma on Friday nights. Hey, I was a little girl, I wasn't old enough to have a social life yet. Best sitcom ever, how can you watch a show over and over and not tire of it? Don't answer that.And most importantly she is sexy like Sophia Loren. I wish I had just a 1/4 of her sexiness. Even when she's older like in Grumpier Old Men. I don't know what she saw in Walter Matthau though, I wouldn't go for someone who kept callin me nag. Best part of that movie was Burgess Merideth. Just the credits are worth a watch. I love dirty old people.

Tale of a Basset Hound

I am still under the weather, my naughty molar told my ear to join him in making my life a living hell. So, now I have what feels like a waterbed on the side of my mouth and little pixie daggers poking me in my ear. What better time to drudge up bad memories then when you feel like your down the block from death. Criteriums. Just typing it makes my tummy cramp, maybe that's the Kraft Mac n' Cheese talking. I did my first cat 4 crit on Easter morning. I had one race under my belt before that. It was a public race at the Redlands Classic just a week before, maybe two. I kicked booty in that one. Oh, did I mention there was one other rider in my group. Our class was mixed with the older ladies, four riders total. I finished about 45 seconds ahead of them, and that's with a headwind for 3/4 of the course. It deserved a hands free finish which I executed with pro-like precision. That weekend was filled with unicorns and kittens. A complete 180 from what was in store for me 7 days later.

I woke up at 5:15 AM and tried to hold it together, mentally. I wanted it to be a no frills affair, but I ended up with an entourage. Husband, two step kids, and three in-laws who are nationally ranked athletes, no pressure. I just wanted to race and get back to my neighborhood Panera before 8:30 for my bagel and coffee. When we pulled up to the venue I wanted to get into the fetal position and suck on my water bottle. Everybody was on trainers, wearing team kits, and sporting mighty big thighs. I went to get my number and change so I could warm up on the course. My husband was super supportive and couldn't of done better putting up with me. There was about 15 other riders, all pretty fit, except one, kinda chubby. I made a mental note that if I could get on her wheel I'd be set. I come around the corner from my final warm up lap and see everybody lined up yelling at me an 3 other stragglers. Apparently they run things on time. So there I am, a basset hound at a greyhound race. I'm right behind my mark though, easy peasy right. Nope. They took off and I stayed with them until the first corner, I kept thinking what the frick are these @$$wipes doing, slow down! I got scared in the pack and kept moving back looking for a safe spot, I wasn't going to find it. Off they went, leaving me and a tween in their dust. That first lap I thought I could sneak through one of the parking lots and back to the car. But years of bad 80's sitcoms and cartoons have taught me stick it out. So on the second lap I decided to make the most of it. Jr. and I worked together to catch up and then try to just catch stragglers. Never caught or saw a single one. I did have the largest cheering section though, no matter how much I wanted to be anonymous I couldn't. I have to admit it, felt pretty good after awhile. Even though it was like an alert system telling spectators to check out the basset hound being chased by a squirrel.

My career in crits is still up in the air. I need to look to the wisdom of Tony Maselli and the Thundercats, and then, maybe then, can I muster up the courage to line up again. Just not behind the chubby one though, she was wicked fast.

Albino Kielbasas and Toothaches

I have been out of it for a few days. What started out as some sort of sinus issues has now turned into an abscessed tooth. Few things in life can be as painful and annoying as what I just went through. Although later this week I either get a root canal or extraction depending on what my naughty little molar has done in his little corner of my mouth. Anyways, I'm off the bike and not putting on my running shoes anytime soon. The thought of having a jaw full of pus just waiting to explode into my mouth(minds out of the gutter now) doesn't really make me want to risk it. Besides, I'm enjoying my elementary school diet of oatmeal, mac n' cheese, and pudd'n cups.

So I had time to read today, Bicycling mag was on the top of the pile. I haven't read it front to cover yet, but I did see something that caught my eye. There was a poll taken about white shorts,Yea or Nay? 83% said absolutely not, 13% said yes but only when sun is shining, and 4% said all the time. Now, I'm thinking that the 83% are the ones who buy the lime green rain capes they overstock at Sportchalet, ride their bikes from June to August (even in temperate climes), and couldn't wear white shorts in the first place cause their thighs would look like an albino kielbasas. Enough of that, I love mine and I am going to wear them with much more pride this summer, although I'm still looking out for random puddles. Can't have poo poo shorts now can we?

Back to the Easel

I took advantage of the last cool days were going to have for awhile and went for a run this morning. Nothing to write home about. No phantom peacocks, rabid squirrels, or shitzu's with Napoleon complexes and a taste for size 38 Louis Garneau's. So I am getting back to the easel, bringing some oomph back to my life. Art in any form can give you an instant kick in the pants whether you're decoupaging, sketching, or writing your name in the sand at the beach. I made the Freebird Velo t-shirt before I even made this blog. I'm backwards in a lot of ways. And i just did the Brooks saddle this afternoon. I need to make some bags this weekend, well see how many needles I break. Tomorrow is gym and sprint intervals, got to get faster somehow.