Today I am just hitting the pacours like Ace to see about tomorrow and I am feeling so good. The snow was blasted across my scene like a T.V. and I have not even cared. I feeling so good that this is a rest day and I am so ready. So this huge like gust goes me off in the bas côté and I am hearing gunshots like there is a man on fire or something. It's like in my chest but not like a popping tyre. I was almost getting rad for this moment too, and … [Read more...]
Archives for January 2013
The Man in Mandate.
We all have heard it so much, and now perhaps too much. It's been a cycling-specific talking point for decades now, perhaps first made contextually familiar to the public by PanachoMouth supreme, Phil Ligget. But with much the same effect as hearing Kelly Rippa mention the word "swag," our jeweled buzzword, Panache, has begun to grow common. And of course, in a sport that depends ultimately on selling things, our most appropriate word has gone … [Read more...]
Just The Tip
So much talk of tools lately and how sometimes they can become "not-your-favorite". How they can become dull or haggard, and how maybe if they could help themselves, they might become "favorites" again. It's a tough row for tools to hoe, always being favorite. It caint go forever. This gets me thinking about jobs and tools pretty heavy, how they fall in and out of grace. Most of the time, tools become "not favorite" because the job isn't right … [Read more...]
Airs d’ Weirde
It was so weird, the weekende. The weather was in the 60s and 70s, USA. It's an odde time of season to be leaving arm warmers behind. The Bleu du Vercors-Sassenage in my jersey pocket remained optimally pungeant. Normally, it would freeze this time of year, so I would instead tote Brie de Meaux, and pan de mie. But today was nice. Also weird, for this low sun time of year, was my strength. Perhaps fueled by eau du Cognac in my face from … [Read more...]
The Ice Bath
It is a moment that all cyclists must revel - the post ride recovery. The miles have been consumed. The sharp end of ability has been tested. Times have been reduced (right?). The work is done, and it is the work that lays foundation for reward. For Superissimo, that reward is encased in celebration as it is often kingpin for proper recovery. There we were, indulging in the day's ice-bath. As happens depending on the actions of the day's work - … [Read more...]
Le Cirque – Lance Armstrong Has a Posse
We love a circus more than anybody. Please, should you be feeling this, I mean really feeling this, reproduce and distribute at will. Lance Armstrong Has a Posse PDF for reproduction under WTFPL Licensing. … [Read more...]
LEIDENSCHAFTLICH, 1975
Late Summer 1975. The Uruguay Cycling Grand Prix of Nations was in full swing, Walter Tardáguila presiding as race leader. More importantly, as internationally significant matters of high society were concerned, one would have been hard-pressed to find Liberace performing anywhere but Vegas or Tahoe. Love, however, is never denied the spot of Capo Premiere Decisionista, which placed him in Los Angeles with Capuletion levels of infatuation. … [Read more...]
Gusts
The brash gusts of wind on the nose of the loop were unpredictable and frequent. Positive thoughts in regards to the conditions were scant, save for a lifting wince when the sun would occasionally glance across my back. My process in the saddle and my deep breathing were robotic, so my train of thought easily drifted to journaling. Aggrandizing this moment became a crucial puzzle that I felt obligated to solve; it became a column in my … [Read more...]
The Winter Selection
The wise men hover in the shadows. Their advice returns as an ominous truth whenever I am atop the pedals of winter. They say to me "yes, it does suck, now shut up!"... thus, the gist is this: To be a smart cyclist is to be a soloist during the cold months when the shadows are long and the air is piercing. Now, in this brittle cold, there is no need for provocation. Groupettos during this time only serve to destroy moral or create false sense. … [Read more...]
Tears for the Fatherland
I remember the man well. Domenic Malvestuto. I remember the weather on one of many days in which my endearment for him was established, for I had toiled for him over years... It was a typical fall day in the desert -- afternoon air temperature was around 24C, and the breeze smelled of orange blossoms. It gave me the familiar sense that business along with team activity, was about to gain momentum. Though the shop door was open to the street, … [Read more...]