Avoiding Temptation

I like blogging. It's like a conversation I am not forced to constantly have with myself. I mean, while I like myself in a non-narcissistic way, my mind is usually racing from one thought to the next to the point I'd like to escape from myself for a while. Blogging doesn't give me an escape, but it lets me choose when I have to talk to myself and control the subject matter rather than just trying to sandbag and divert the flood of thoughts I often can't control. Yes, I could have some form of ADD.

But writing here isn't as free and easy as you might believe. There are soooo many things I'd lurve to go on about, but can't. I read stories often about employers reading employees' blogs or Facebook pages and the content causing problems. I also know that potential employers will likely search the internet for applicants information and things just like this. And since I mostly like the job I have but never know when I may want or need to find another one, I need to avoid the temptation of really saying what is on my mind.

It isn't just work. Every day life punches me in the taint with another challenge to overcome. Another doughnut not to eat. Another bike not to buy. Another something. As cathartic as it may be to just vent, I can't. There are too many feelings and too much that might go wrong.

(I just deleted a shitload of stuff that was here. It was very cathartic to write it but you don't get to read it.)

More lighthearted humor and bike stuff in the next post. Pinky swear.

Dis - Ease

Sick sick sick.

When Wifey hacks
And Smarty Pants sneezes
Green snot flows
Thick and easy as it pleases

Finally worn out
My immunity breaks
Now I'm coughing and blowing
Plus fever and aches

But I'm starting to feel better
Maybe it's not too late
To get into shape
For my mid-March Moab race

Like any time is a great time to get bronchitis and a sinus infection, now is terrible. The Moab Half Marathon isn't really in jeopardy, but being sick all last week and still feeling the effects this week is really going to affect my performance. I wasn't shooting for a PR, but wanted to at least do as good as last year. My longest run thus far has been about 6 miles and while it didn't kill me, I wanted to build up to about 12 miles before the run, which is now about a month away. If I am lucky I can build up to 8-9 without worrying about injury. Much. Fortunately I think my base is good enough that I can build my mileage up quickly and still run quick while having fun.

Here's to feeling better soon and my poetry skillz improving soon!

The Importance of Gear Inspection

Things wear out. When they do, you replace them. Socks to jeans, cars to microwaves. Mostly replacement is a nuisance because with most stuff there is no excitement. That is the beauty of bicycling, or any sport that gives you a visceral reaction. When a bike part wears out or breaks you get the opportunity to upgrade. There is no passion replacing the drain pump in the washer. You don't go looking for a washer pump with a titanium impeller to increase drainage infinitesimally. But a new handlebar... now, that's something.

But I digress. I should be discussing the importance of gear inspection. Yeah, you should check the oil in the car and air up the tires and stuff or risk calamity - as I mentioned previously. But this is about the neat shit, like bikes. Or, in this instance, swim trunks.

Looking for any way to improve the way I feel about swimming, if not actually improving my abilities, I took the plunge last year and bought the extended Speedo® for swim practice, frequently called Jammers. I figured why not. I rock lycra shorts - hell, bib shorts even - on the bike all summer. While I didn't notice any improvement, I pretend I did.

Which, at long last leads me to gear inspection.

The other day I pulled my jammers out of the washer and went to hang them up. While attaching them to the hanger I noticed some flaky white stuff on the shorts in the region that would be on the crack of my ass. On inspection I noticed the elastic has eroded, likely due to a combination of pool water and my ass cheeks rubbing on it, and I could almost see completely through the stretchy fabric. Which meant, that for an unknown length of time, I have been torturing the poor people at the Roy Complex with my butt crack.

!

After letting the shorts dry, I slid them on and bade Wifey to come hither and inspect the tox. Fortunately. Fortunately, though the fabric is thin the darkness of the chASSm hides any obvious signs. While this, and my muffin top, may keep me from being offered a spread in Playgirl®, I was overjoyed to learn I had not been flashing the cadre of over 70 ladies doing water aerobics. I am certain they are also.

Gear inspection people. Get in the habit.