What What?

Day three, no exercise other than sand castle building. A pox has swept out group and there's been vomiting and poopie pants for days, but so far I'm right as rain. Probably my superior nutrition and workout regimine has carried me through. I'm not sure if you can see or not but there's a little man running on the beach behind me. Silly little man.

Viva Mexico!

Here's me, freshly showered after three days of not being clean. Additionally, this photo was taken about five minutes after I had taken a growler so huge and satisfying that I'm sure it will live in Mexican folklore forever.

So, on the exercise front, unless you count fishing for six hours and catching nothing as exercise, I have not done much. I have eaten lots of cheeze and chips so I've got that going for me.

Activate Cabo Mode

Takin the family down to Ol'Mexico for a few days. The chances of physical activity are limited so any posts I do will be drunken ramblings from Baja.

AMF

Stand And Deliver!

As if life isn't hard enough, I got an email from Captain Tim yesterday telling me that I need to watch out on the SART during my daily commute because there are hooligans taking people down and robbing them on the very stretch where I ride.  Supposedly over the past couple of months there have been groups of guys (three) lying in wait on the SART, jumping unsuspecting cyclists, grounding and pounding said cycling victims, and then stealing their bikes and gear.  Not to worry though, last week the Santa Ana Police Department reported that they had conquered evil:

"During the past two months there have been several robberies on the Santa Ana Riverbed in Santa Ana between 17th Street and Edinger. The robbers mostly target lone riders, usually between 6PM and 8PM. The good news is that on Sunday, February 6th, three of the robbers were caught. We showed their photos to some of the other victims who identified them as being responsible in multiple robberies. SAPD is confident that the primary robbery suspects are in custody. That said, the riverbed borders several gang territories, so riders should use appropriate caution and when possible, ride in pairs during evening hours."

Awesome work guys!  Wait...what's that?  We have late breaking news!  According to Roadbike.org, just a little over a week ago:

"...on a Saturday afternoon (this is bold) at 2:30 pm a rider was knocked down by three guys at the 1st undercrossing. He was beaten and robbed of his bike, iPhone, and gear bag. His bike was a brand new Trek Madone. It seems these criminals use a spotter to ID expensive bikes and call ahead to tip off their partners in crime"

What is this, 18th century France or something where roving bands of highwaymen beat and rob weary travelers?  What kind of crap is this?

On another note, good thing SAPD is doing its normal great work  Reminds me of a time several years ago when my car was stolen from in front of my house.  I was told by SAPD that I had to file a police report over the phone because nobody was hurt and they don't have time to actually show up for every crime.  Reminds me of all the spray paint I see all over the place too that nobody ever seems to stop even though said spray paintings look like they took more time to complete than the Sistine Chapel.  And my neighbors who report being burglarized.  Oh yeah, and all the other stuff that goes in in our fine city.

I'm not saying our boys in blue suck royal balls, but each and every day when I ride the SART, I see people drinking booze, large groups of guys spray painting, menacing dudes just hanging out, and all manner of criminal activity.  The fact is, I could throw a rock and hit someone involved in criminal activity on the SART just about every day.  The fact that SAPD caught three dudes who mugged people and crowed about it is pretty pathetic.  The fact that they have a clearly defined area where people are being mugged in broad daylight and SAPD acknowledges that the area is surrounded by 'SEVERAL' gang territories means they know there is a very high concentration of criminals right there....yet the criminals feel confident enough to take people down in broad daylight.  Nice work boys...nice work.

I'm guessing the SART robbers don't look as dashing as Adam Ant in his Stand and Deliver video

Looks like its time for me to go full Chuck Norris on people and set things right on the SART for the 2nd time this year (You'll remember that earlier in the year my presence on the SART caused the homeless serial killer to move a bit north and make a mistake which led to his capture).  You're welcome Santa Ana Police!  Now that you've got me doing the heavy lifting, maybe you can catch the person who keeps spray painting giant dicks on my neighbors cars. Geeeez

Nice Driving Jack-off

Its people like this that need to be kicked in the head. Its a bike lane you moron, not a driving lane

FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET MERCY..STOP!

This is mainly for my co-workers but it applies to anyone who knows me.  If you see me riding my bike, DO NOT HONK YOUR FREAKING HORN!  Yeah, I know its amusing "Hey, look at the big man on his bike!!!" and you honk and wave trying to be all friendly but there's a problem with this.  YOU are driving a motor vehicle and I am riding a bicycle.  Your 15 ton SUV is public enemy number one to me when I'm on my bike so you honking your horn is the equivalent to a shark suddenly jumping out of the water two feet from your face when you're swimming in the ocean and yelling "HEY BUDDY!  HOW'S THE WATER!!!!".  Sweet f*ck it scares the shit out of me when people honk and wave.  STOP IT.

The Temp is Rising!

Its a warm day today so I'm riding pipes out baby. Look all you like ladies but remember...lusting is a sin!

내 입에 맛있는 국수 타!

I think it was Maya Angelou who said "Failing to prepare is preparing to fail" (it was actually John Wooden but I wanted to seem all liberal, urban, and hip so I threw out Angelou) and today I failed to prepare for lunch and my lunch was a failure.

Upon returning from the gym, I was saddened to realize there were no birthday parties or left over sandwich trays in the conference rooms that I could mooch off of so I had to hoof it back downstairs and drop 50 cents in a machine to pick up a 'Bowl Noodle Soup' from our friends at Nongshim of Korea (The good side).  At first I was delighted to eat the delicious noodles.  I even looked up the nutritional value which told me my 'lunch' consisted of 380 calories, and 56 grams of carbs.  So what, I'm riding Serena today and I ran at the gym so I'm entitled to a little tasty treat with no nutritional value whatsoever right?  Problem is, when I was done with my sodium infused carb bomb, I still felt incredibly hungry.

At this point, one might suggest a handful of almonds or an orange or something healthy like that right?  Well, you can take that suggestion and shove it straight up your ass.  I was hungry and I needed to eat something NOW.  I sprung into action with a level of drive and motivation that, if applied to my every day life, would probably make me a lot more successful but that's another story for another time.  I quickly borrowed the below monster vehicle of American greatness from a female co-worker:

Once I managed to spend 15 minutes moving the seat back, adjusting the steering wheel, taking down the sun shade, and changing the temperature from the 96 degrees my co-worker seems to find comfortable to a reasonable 60 degrees (as a side note, there are two things chicks just don't get:  climate control and watching channels in non HD when an HD channel showing the same show is available) I was off!

I decided to head just down the road to Flame Broiler for a 'healthy' beef and veggie bowl.

Flame broiler is a great joint and as far as fast food goes, it's pretty healthy.  The sign inside the restaurant says my beef and veg bowl is 530 calories so lets just say its 650 calories to be safe.  That put my total lunch time calorie intake to just over a thousand calories.  Nice work man...nice work. Eating crappy stuff is one thing if you're doing it on purpose but its epic failure when you don't mean to do it and you freak out like some kind of crazed glue sniffer.

I walked into the office and felt even more ashamed of myself when I walked past my friend Koko's desk (she's a tiny girl who, unlike some of us, can stop eating when she's full) and she cheerfully said "Good job boss!" thinking I had made a healthy choice when she saw my Flame Broiler bag.  I just held it up and gave her the thumbs up and completely neglected to tell her that my appetizer was a foreign made, mass produced box nothing but empty calories and broken dreams bought for fifty cents from a dirty machine.  I'm ashamed, I need to take a crying shower.

I think I need some red vines or something to wash the salt taste out of my mouth.

Serena's Official First Run Back on the SART

Serena and I triumphantly gazing out over the SART

It was a crisp morning today and I was happy to be able to commute to work again now that Serena is back in action.  I'd been on a couple of very easy rides this weekend to test out the new back wheel (WTB DX23 700c) and all seemed good so I decided to get back out there and take to the SART again.  For some reason I've got a sore quad so I thought I'd just do a moderate ride to the office but as soon as I turned onto the SART I could tell Serena wanted to run.  Serena's like a top Thoroughbred who wins from the front so when the gate opens, all you can do is get a hand full and try to stay on for the ride.  The sun was above me, the SART was wide open, Mumford and Sons was blowing up in the earphones and I took off like I was shot out of a cannon.

I have no clue if wheels have anything to do with speed but right away it seemed like I was hauling ass and the new DX23 wheels were giving me an ultra smooth ride.  My concerns that the guys at The Path had sold me an 'entry level' wheel were quickly put to rest because the ride felt great at high speed and the new wheel had no problems when I had to take sudden evasive maneuvers to avoid a broken bottle. So far so good!  Viva Serena's new wheel and viva the guys at The Path bike shop!

Serena and me at about 85mph on the SART

President's Day Weekend Beach Ride...Sort of

Today was supposed to be a glorious day for going to the beach 2nd week in a row.  Turns out it was a crappy day for a beach run but we just don't give a shit.  It's a three day weekend for f*ck's sake and we're going to get our beach on!

Worst Ride Ever...

The goal today was to do a family bike ride and to get to see my buddy Jed's new bike.  Jed and I have been friends since the 2nd grade and back in the day, when I rode my bike to go meet him somewhere, it usually meant something was going to be set on fire in the Torrance/Lomita area.  Well, they say history repeats itself and today it did.  Turns out Jed got a new bike for his birthday so we agreed to meet at a park off the trail by both of our houses and have a family picnic.  Seemed like a great idea and we had a nice time but fuck me if it wasn't one of the coldest days in the history of planet earth.  If the cold and cloudy day wasn't bad enough (keep in mind folks, we're talking Southern California here so spare me with your dumbass winter stories.  Don't live where it snows, that's my advice), some old hag honked at my family and me on our ride home and it nearly caused my youngest daughter to crash.  I wanted to throw a brick through that crusty old bitch's rear window but I didn't think it would be a good idea for my daughters to see me go DEFCON 1 on some old lady so the best I could do was slowly mouth an extremely vulgar description to the old broad when we rode past her at a stop light.  Trust me, if that hag can read lips, she understands I don't mess around when it comes to profanity...everything is on the table with me.

Long story short, if anyone had told me back in 1982 that in 30 years, Madonna would be doing the half time show at the Superbowl, Whitney Houston would drop dead from too much booze and dope, and I'd still be riding my bike to the park to meet Jed, I'd tell them they were f&cking crazy.  Well...turns out its not so crazy after all.

Bonus material:

Here's me and Jed back in the day when they devoted an entire page to the two of us in the 87 page yearbook our school had our senior year (87 pages included K-12th grade):


Clockwise from the upper left:  Jed and me in Paris at L'arc de Triomphe, Jed and me after winning a football game...again, Jed and me back when it was still legal for two dudes to get married in California (I was the masculine one, Jed was the she-dude), and Jed and I hanging out with Maria at the Calico Country Fair (and no, Maria is not giving me an 'old fashioned', get your mind out of the gutter)

Serena New Wheel Test Results

I took Serena out for some serious testing to try out the WTB DX23 700c.  Behold the results...

BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL!!

Serena is back!  Check'er out, looking dark, confident, intimidating, and sexy with her new back wheel!  I was excited when I got her back so I immediately took Serena for a short spin around the neighborhood and gave the new rear wheel a close inspection.

The folks at The Path bike shop chose a WTB DX23 700c aluminum alloy wheel for me (below):

I have no clue about bike wheels but it looks pretty freaking badass to me.  I'm not sure what a 'c' is, but my new rear wheel's got 700 of them so I'm sure when it comes to ass kicking on a bike, there is no match for the WTB DX23 700c....clearly the technology and materials used for my new wheel are second to none.

After giving my new rear wheel an easy test ride and a close visual inspection, I decided I needed to do more research on this WTB company.  I looked up WTB on the computer and clearly these guys are freaks when it comes to wheels.  On their 'about' page, it talks about how they were founded in 1982 in California when mountain biking was a mostly unknown sport.  Then I saw this photo of their original crew and knew I had a high quality product from a bunch of well hard bike riding professionals:

That's the WTB crew back in 1986 at the Nationals in Durango Colorado.  Check those dudes out, they clearly know what they're doing. 

After looking up WTB as a company, I wanted to read about the DX23 700c and see what people had to say about this ultra badass next generation equipment the good folks at The Path put on Serena, and that's when things went south.

Turns out that even though The WTB DX23 700c looks like some sort of futuristic weapon, its classified as an 'entry level' wheel.  What the hell man?  Entry level?  I'll admit I'm no Lance Armstrong, but I'm sure as hell not entry level either.  My kid's pink Hello Kitty cruiser is fucking entry level, not Serena!  On top of Serena's new wheel being called 'entry level', the reviews for the WTB DX23 aren't exactly stellar either.  To be fair, WTB is considered 'legendary' by most folks but the DX23 700c had a couple of people say it gets bent out of shape very easily, which is a concern to say the least because the last thing I want is to be hoofing it down the SART....AGAIN!

In the end, I'm going to just trust the folks at The Path even though I'm clearly not entry level and I'm insulted to be classified as such.  Normally I'd return to the offending party and demand satisfaction but the guy I talked to at The Path had a goatee, tattoos, and he looked like he smokes a lot of weed so he's gotta know a lot about bikes right?  I shall give him the benefit of the doubt and take Serena on a brisk ride today soon after I take my morning shit.  Stay tuned for the results.

Chow/Airport Review

For many years when I was an ultra frequent traveler, my home airport..The Duke...John Wayne...SNA...etc had very few food choices. When you got in for the early am flights, your options were either Starbucks, McDonalds, or this independent joint where they always had croissants, muffins, and coffee prominently displayed but whenever you walked up to order, some wild eyed Korean lady would always just yell 'Not Yet!  We Not Open!'. Well folks, I'm happy to report things have changed.

This morning I got to the airport 90 minutes before my flight (that's cutting it close for me) and got in line at Starbucks like every other traveling robot on the planet.  Disgusted with the fact that I was doing the drill at Starbucks AND having to wait behind 20 people at 5:15am, I decided to break free and explore the newly designed part of John Wayne airport. To my pleasant surprise, I walked just a few feet, turned a corner by gate 13 and saw this little establishment that you may have heard of. Yes...Subway.

I'd never had Subway for breakfast before but the lack of a queue, their impressive storefront, and the fact that I was giving Starbucks a big f@ck you made me go there.  Immediately I was greeted by a nice lady who wanted to make me something. I chose an english muffin, egg, turkey, and cheese sandwich. Nice lady put my meal together, popped it in the microwave, and I moved down to a very eager older dude who was there to take my drink order and my money. Best part about this end of the counter was that there is no 'grande' or 'venti', just a large motherf@cking coffee and you get it yourself. Amen people!  Aaaaaamen!  

The sandwich was very good and the coffee was easily as good as Starbucks and I was outta there for under eight bucks for a sandwich, bottle of water, and a coffee. Coffee, water, and a fruit cup at Starbucks will set you back roughly $14. Sausage McMuff with egg, hash browns, and coffee from McDonalds is the cheapest but you get way more calories and you end up having that ammonium soaked weird meat product instantly turned to liquid and shooting out of your ass within five minutes...and who wants that?

Yes, the Subway breakfast experience was probably the best airport breakfast I've had in the past five years (so you're talking easily 200 airport breakfasts) if you're not counting the ones where you're drinking your breakfast before a flight to Cabo.

Viva Subway!  Break free from the Starsucks people!!! BREAK FREEEEEEE!!!

Side note:  I looked online and I my breakfast sandwich was roughly 300 calories. Not bad at all.

Sweet Mother of Gas

I'm just going to get right to the point here, yes, I am making a blog post about my farts.  If you don't like it, I'm sure Oprah or Rachael Ray or someone else has a blog you'd like about decorating your cats or something.

For those of you still here, I think its important for you to know that I had the worst gas in the history of the human (and bovine for that matter) species last night.  According to my internet machine, the average human produces four pints of gas per day and rips roughly 20 farts on average.  Before I go on, it should be noted that a pint is a way to measure liquid and that does not apply to my farts because they are as dry and crisp as the mountain air on a winter's morn but for the sake of consistency, we'll stick with pints and whatnot.  As I was saying, there are eight pints in a gallon so if the average person produces four pints per day and 20 farts, that would mean that yesterday I was excessively above average because I'm estimating I produced 67 GALLONS of gas and floated 392 highly audible air biscuits.

I'm a guy who normally farts more than the average person because I like to keep it classy, but yesterday's fart level was so off the charts that I really started to get worried.  What in the name of sweet merciful zingers could have possibly caused such extreme flatulence?  Here's what I ate yesterday:

Green smoothie for breakfast
Handful of raw almonds before workout
6 inch subway with turkey, Swiss, avocado, and mustard on whole wheat
Turkey stuffed bell pepper for dinner
Crackers and wine as a snack (I know...weight loss killer)

How the hell could relatively healthy eating like that cause killer farts?  I don't get it!

I did some research on the subject and, as usual, looking up anything that has anything to do with the body or bodily functions online is completely useless.  According to the Mayo Clinic, excessive gas could be from high fiber foods or it could also be a sign of Crohn's disease (not even going to look that one up).  When I went on to eMedicine.com, it made sure I understood that a fart is 'an uncomfortable passing of gas from the rectum'.  First off, I'm pretty sure we all know what a fart is.  Next, the only people my farts are uncomfortable for are the people around me...I on the the other hand feel ab fab when I let one rip.  Finally, it cracks me up how eMedicine's website has the word 'rectum' hyperlinked, that must be for fetish freaks or something.  Back to eMedicine...they go on in such great detail about farts that they offer this little passage:

"In the mid-1800s flatulence took center stage with the French entertainer Joseph Pugol ("Le Petomane"). Pugol was able to pass gas at will and at varying pitch, thereby playing tunes for sold-out shows at the Moulin Rouge. Such was his success that lesser competitors began to appear, including the Spaniard "El Rey" and the female Angele Thiebeau (later revealed as a fake using hidden air bellows)."

Are we serious here?  Does anyone have any questions about why the French aren't taken seriously?  They're a nation of people who are the descendants of folks who used to pay good money to go watch some guy fart tunes.  I can just imagine the conversations they had:  "Sacre Blu Jean Pierre!  Did you see ze Pugol last night?  His fart!  Ze are AMAZING!  I could barely smell my own B.O.!"  I wonder if you got your money back if he Pugol accidentially $hit his pants or if they just did a quick change, sent him back on stage, and quickly announced a special on chocolate mousse.

So, eMedicine health and the much esteemed Mayo Clinic were zero help whatsoever so I went to Wikipedia and discovered the same process your colon (asshole) uses to produce feces ($hit) is the one it uses to produce farts.  Really?...facinating....I never knew that my butthole supply chain is multi functional.  Additonally, Wikipedia gave me this little tidbit of information:

"Flatulence-producing foods are typically high in certain polysaccharides, (especially oligosaccharides such as inulin). Those foods include beans, lentils, dairy products, onions, garlic, scallions, leeks, turnips, rutabagas, radishes, sweet potatoes, potatoes, cashews, Jerusalem artichokes, oats, wheat, and yeast in breads. Cauliflower, broccoli, cabbage, Brussels sprouts and other cruciferous vegetables that belong to the genus Brassica are commonly reputed to not only increase flatulence, but to increase the pungency of the flatus"

Really man?  There's some guy who knows all these big words and at a minimum knows how to sound like a scientist who took the time to post technical details on Wikipedia about how cabbage makes your farts stink?  I could ask my six year old about the effects of cabbage eating and she'd tell me.

So really, what I discovered in my quest to figure out why I had such a surplus of atomic paint peelers last night is that there is a bodily function that on AVERAGE comes out of every one of us 20 times a day and there is virtually no medical certainty or meaningful research about it?  I don't get this, there's research done on horse$hit like restless leg syndrome and parental alienation syndrome and chronic fatigue syndrome but when I want to find out why my ass is playing Yankee Doodle every ten seconds all I can find is that cabbage gives you sow ass and there was once a guy in France who made a living on his farts?  Folks, we need more research on farts and we need it now.  Write your congressman.  Below is probably the best fart research done to date.

Soccer 101

You've probably all been wondering just where the hell I've been for the past few days.  Well, the answer is that I partied like it was 1999 on Saturday night, had a beach day with the family on Sunday, and yesterday I didn't post because I was preparing for my first ever soccer match.  I know it's difficult to believe that a well rounded and much decorated athlete like myself has never once played in a soccer game, but its true.  Needless to say, I was fired up and ready to show the world that pure athleticism conquers everything and that I would be a natural wonder at the most popular sport in the world.

This is how I envisioned myself playing in my first soccer game:

This is a more accurate photo of how it went for me:

So, unfortunately for my team and me, it turns out I was not a natural at soccer but at least I had a great time and tried with everything in me to make a difference.  I have to be honest, I was somewhat surprised and how clueless I was out there because I've watched my fair share of soccer on TV and I know the basics.  For instance, I know that Robert Van Persie is a wuss who just hangs out by the goal waiting for an easy shot, Lionel Messi is awesome, Theo Walcott is always man of the match for whoever is playing against Arsenal, Dutch footballers all have extremely hot girlfriends, and Wayne Rooney digs going to low rent brothels and paying for naughty business with 50 year old wh0res (allegedly)...all these things I know, so I should have been totally great first time out right?  Even though I still have room for improvement, I did learn a few things about the great game of soccer:

• There are rules - who knew there were so many rules in soccer?  For instance, I learned about five minutes into the game that it is not acceptable for me to destroy a guy half my size from behind just because I think I can get to the ball.  Turns out a move like that means the other team gets to kick the ball right at your goal from very short range and all you're allowed to do is stand about ten yards away, cover your nuts, and hope for the best.
• Law of probability - When the above situation takes place, the other team is highly likely to score against you upon kicking the free shot.
• Law of probability 2.0 - When a team consisting of guys who are mostly in their late 30's and early 40's plays against a team of dudes in their early 20's who all come from places where soccer is a religion taught at an early age, things will most likely not go well for the older team.
• Don't defend ten yards behind the rest of your defense - Holding the line was the most mentally challenging thing for me.  I understand that if you're the Lone Ranger ten yards behind the other guys defending, you are essentially f*cking your own team because they're expecting you to be on the same line as them so the other team can't go behind you without getting caught offsides.  Unfortunately for me (and my team), I kept getting suckered into drifting back by some crafty little bastard on the other team.  Next thing I knew, it was an all out jail break and I was the responsible party.  Stupid offsides rules.
• Never, ever, pass the ball in front of your own goal - Seems like a simple enough concept but when you're out there in the thick of things, it gets all confusing.  Case in point, at one point in the game, I had a moment of brilliance and actually stole the ball from my competitor.  All of a sudden, dudes were coming at me from left and right, and like some half witted rookie, I spazzed out, saw my buddy Mark to my right (standing directly in front of our goal), and I passed it to him.  What happened next probably took less than three seconds to unfold but it seemed like an eternity at the time.  I made the pass and as soon as I kicked the ball, Mark looked at me with a look that combined total despair and shock that he knew someone who was that f*cking stupid, then there was a blur that flashed by him, then a sound similar to a whip cracking as the ball hit the back of our net at about 350mph.  My bad dawg!  My bad!

When the final whistle blew, the result of the game was decidedly not in our favor but what the hell, I had a blast, tried something new, and got a healthy respect for the game of soccer.  Even though I didn't get to do a righteous goal celebration complete with fireworks, chicks making out with each other, and a live mariachi band playing 'One Ton Tomato' (I've played the scene out a thousand times in my mind), I've quickly developed a love for the game and can't wait to get back out there.  OLE! OLE OLE OLE!!!...

Bonus material - note the vicious battle scar just above my ankle.  That's what happens when you play like a man:

Backup Plan

I'm planning on hitting the beach with the kids on Sunday and since Serena is down for the count, I had to go with plan B which is my trusty old Diamond Back mountain bike circa 1991.  She ain't much to look at now, but back in the day, this baby was a sweet ride.  This vintage ride has been with me through four moves and a divorce and even though one of the pedal cages is held together with grocery store twist ties and it's nearly impossible to change gears, it still gets the job done.  I planned to unload the ol Diamond Back in a garage sale we'll be having in a couple of weeks on one of the locals for fifteen bucks so I figure its fitting to get on and ride one last time for old time's sake.  Check out the quality craftsmanship of my personal repair work below...

Killer

Killer Buns and Thighs!!!

The wife brought this home from Costco and I have a couple of thoughts:

1.  Guys aren't to interested in 'killer buns'. We want a 'hot ass'. Change the title lady

2.  If it was so great, why is it only eight bucks?

3.  She's clearly got a smokin bod, no question about that, but is that honestly the best photo they took of her face?  Sweet mercy!

Serena is On the Disabled List

Well for f*cks sake, when I was almost home yesterday I blew out another spoke.  To say the spoke issue is depressing is a major understatement, that's the third one in a month.  For one, I didn't get to ride to work today.  For another, I had to pedal my bike the last half mile home with a wobbly wheel like some spazz.  Not as important but equally lame, I'm starting to feel like the dork kid who got a Huffy for Christmas when all of his friends got a Mongoose, Redline, or, the most badass 1980's BMX bike of them all, the PK Ripper.

Feeling dejected and like my bike sucks, I did some research online today and discovered the following:

• Spoke breakage is totally unrelated to weight so you comedians can save your comments about my ass being too big to ride a bike.
• Apparently, once you break one spoke, it causes stress on a bunch of the other spokes because the wheel tension is off so further broken spokes are almost certainly going to happen if you don't have a serious professional re-do the wheel
• I'm a well hung stud who ladies love (ok, that wasn't online but its true)

So, like all Americans, rather than taking any of the blame myself, I decided to blame my local bike store and find an authorized Specialized repair place and go there.  After a quick search on Google and Yelp, I found The Path Bike Shop in Tustin, CA.  Feeling like there might be some light at the end of the tunnel, I informed my co-workers that I'd be 'working from the road' and rushed home and went to The Path.  When I got there, I was surprised...simply put, this unassuming bike shop is seriously badass. 

I brought Serena inside and found the repair dude and, while trying not to cry, explained to him that I kept breaking spokes.  The guy assured me that even with my large size and fully loaded dual pannier bag, there's no way weight is an issue.  Apparently the stuff I read online is correct and once you break a spoke, its likely they'll keep breaking because of the uneven tension created by the first one.  He checked all the spokes and showed me that there were three other ones getting ready to go.  Bike repair guy suggested I get a new wheel and it would be sixty bucks.  I told him to get me a new wheel at once.  He then, sheepishly suggested that since I ride nearly every day, I may want to get a 'nicer' wheel.  I braced myself for the price tag of the 'nicer' wheel but then he said "That will be like....eighty-five dollars".  HOOK ME UP DUDE!!!  At this  point I was already thinking about how much I love The Path Bike Shop and then "Sappy" by Nirvana came on the sound system and it took my love of this heretofore unknown bike shop to a whole new level.  Unfortunately, my joy soon came to an end when bike repair guy told me he'd need to order the new wheel and it would be a week.  As soon as bike repair guy said I'd be waiting a weeek, Nancy Nofun at the cash register changed the song to something lame.  Long story short, Serena is in the hopefully capable hands of bike repair dude at The Path Bike Shop.  So far the gear, bikes, knowledgeable staff, etc. at this joint seem to be totally legit.  As long as they get Serena back to me in top shape, they'll have a customer for life.

The only part of this whole experience that made no sense to me whatsoever was the conversation I had with my wife when we were leaving the bike store.  It went as follows:

Me:  "Well, that place was cool and I think $85 sounds like a good deal.  Hopefully the new wheel will mean I don't get stranded anymore"

Wife:  "Hahaha...Serena's getting new shoes.  You spend more on her than you do on me!"

Me:  "Oh geez...you've gotta be shitting me"

Wife:  "No, if your bike's getting new shoes, I should get new shoes"

Me:  "What the f*ck are you talking about?"

Wife:  "I should get a new pair of Christian Louboutin shoes"

Me:  "Don't those things cost like eight hundred bucks a pair?"

Wife:  "Well, you're spending $85 on new shoes for Serena!"

Me:  "What??  That doesn't even make any sense.  What are you talking about?"

Wife:  "Yup, you'll see"

Me:  "I'll see what????"

Wife:  silence....

I'll miss you Serena, get well soon.

More Hot Gym Action

Today was a fantastic morning and Mark and I rode in again.  Feeling bullish to have a sunny day again, we rode fast and hard (double entendre intended) and made it to the gym in record time.  Since we had time to spare, we decided to hit the steam room (which we do even when we're late).  The problem was, for some reason, the normally empty steam room was more crowded than Taco Bell on Cinco de Mayo (makes zero sense but it makes me laugh).  To add to the lameness, some dip$hit old guy came in the room with shaving cream all over his bald noggin and began to shave his freaking head even though there were like four hundred of us in the sausage party that was the steam room.  This man who shaved his head is a complete moron to begin with as I frequently see him standing next to the TV, naked, with one leg up on a chair, holding his gut up and blow drying his balls with the community hair dryer.  I'm not making this up...completely true.

Now for some history.  There are several dudes, most of them old dudes, in our gym who find the need to talk at shouting level to whoever their with in the locker room.  Its annoying and it makes no sense and it makes me want to start punching people.  Mark and I always laugh about it but we never see the offenders because we're in a locker room with many rows of lockers (think library style but instead of books its rows of lockers that smell like old balls) so you can't see who's talking on the other rows.  The crazy thing is, when I was IN the shower with it running, I suddenly heard this eruption of noise and realized it was one of the shouting old men yelling his conversation to some poor sonofabitch who was two feet away from him.  "HEY BARNEY!  YOU BETTER GET IN THOSE SHOWERS!  ONCE IT TURNS EIGHT O CLOCK THOSE GUYS FROM THE POOL COME IN HERE AND TAKE UP ALL THE DAMN SHOWERS! GET IN THERE BARNEY!  I'LL WAIT!!!!"  So, I quickly finished washing hogzilla in the shower so I could get out and see who it was that yells every freaking morning.  Sure enough, I got out of the shower and walked into the main locker room to see the guy who shaved his head in the steam room standing there, yelling at some horrified looking guy, while he had a leg hiked up and was blow drying his nuts.

What is wrong with people?

Survival Mode...Activate

The above photo is Serena with the Topeak MTX Eplorer trunk bag rain cover fully deployed just as the rain started to fall before my ride home last night.  What's that?  You think my bike is more badass than Batman's utility belt?  Well, you're correct, it is.

The rain didn't come down too hard but it was a steady rain and a stiff wind (like the kind that comes out of my ass) the entire ride home so it was a good first time rain ride.  Other than Mark biffing it on the trail in monumental fashion, the ride was pretty normal, just wetter.  And thus ends the saga of my first ride in the rain. I dedicate this song to the awesomeness that was my bike commute yesterday...enjoy:

Storm's Brewing....IN MY PANTS

Batten down the hatches matey, we've got a nor'easter coming our way!  So far we've been lucky enough to only have rain today when we weren't riding our bikes.  However, forecast says there's an 80% chance of rain starting around 3:00pm and this is what the sky looked like as I left the gym at lunch (That's right bitches, two bike rides AND a run at lunch.  Don't hate the player, hate the game).  There is virtually no doubt about it, we'll be riding home in the rain.  Yes!  A new challenge and something to spice up this boring day.  I took the low rent precaution with Serena while I was in the gym:

As I sit here eating my east meets west lunch (turkey chili and tonkastu), I have to admit I'm hoping the skies open and it pours like a motherscratcher.  I want the worst the SART has to offer on this miserable day.  I want to look death in the eye and laugh a mighty defiant laugh.  I WANT TO FEEL ALIVE!!!!

Side note:  For the record, I have no idea why I added 'In My Pants' to the title of this post, it just seemed like the thing to do

Rain Ride!

There she is baby, Serena all warm and dry parked in the company warehouse.  I rode in this morning with Mark, both of us having full knowledge that we will get rained on on the ride home.  I brought my bike pack rain pancho thingie to keep my gear warm but I have no rain gear to cover myself.  I can't wait.

Knowing that there would be rain today, I cleared it with the powers that be here at work to park Serena inside.  Mark, my riding partner, heaped abuse on me and called me a girl.  Now that its raining and his bike is parked outside getting soaked, he's changed his tune.  Who's laughing now good man?  WHO.  IS.  LAUGHING.  NOW!

Put Some Dill In My Mouth

I just had myself a dill pickle spear and man was it good!  I went online to see if dill pickles are good for you and according to someone named 'lakegal', dill pickles, while high in salt content, are in fact good for you.  I saw it on my internet machine and 'lakegal' has apparently provided 1,997 answers so it must be true.

Suck on a pickle today.

Some Actual Biking Stats....

I dug up the old Polar GPS watch this morning and set it to bike mode so I could check my speed on the ride in to work.  Don't laugh, but I was impressed with my average speed of 15.5mph.  On the surface that's not flying like Lance but when you consider that nearly two miles of my six mile ride were through neighborhoods, that's some pretty fancy riding baby!

On another good note, I'm starting to get the family more and more into riding instead of driving on weekends.  We actually made a family ride to Target so the kids could pick up Valentine's cards for their classmates.  The wife got some food and cleaning supplies on top of the Valentine's cards so I had a full load on Serena for the ride home.  We're saving the earth by riding our bikes to the store to buy cheap and unnecessary Chinese goods made in sweatshops that have inhumane working conditions.  Wait what?

On the weight loss side, this weekend was a disaster from Friday through Sunday but hey, it was Superbowl weekend and I've proven that when it comes to food and drink, I'm weaker than Wes Welker's alligator arms so who cares.

Side note, I'm thinking about upgrading my ride to something like the one pictured above.  Sexy and it goes with the part of town I live in.

Superbowl Prediction Saturday!

I know this blog is devoted to the common man's quest for fitness and a trim waist but I'd be a complete toolbox if I ignored the fact that tomorrow is Superbowl Sunday.  Since I'm a fan of the gridiron, I decided to get down to the business of predicting this weekend's winner in a very scientific manner...check it out.

The Greatest of All Time

Its been a few days since I updated the ol' Gut Chronicles and the reason for that is...well, I've been lazy.  I had a rough week and I took yesterday off to volunteer for a fundraiser so there was no updating. 

Fortunately, while I was away, I became re-acquainted with my old pal Wii Baseball (score this a.m. above).  I thought since Wii baseball is about the only exercise I've had in three days, it would be good to mention something about it and that something is that I am the greatest player in history.  Let me explain...

A skill level of over 1000 makes you a Pro in Wii baseball.  You'll note from the photo below that my skill level is not only Pro, its like Pro times infinity plus one.

No, quit rubbing your eyes, you're not seeing things.  My skill level is literally off the charts, in fact, its even above the words 'skill level' which is fitting because my god-like abilities at Wii baseball are beyond anything that could be described as 'skill', they are in fact, a gift...a blessing from the heavens.

I'm admittedly not a great video game player nor do I devote a large amount of time to 'gaming' as its called but for some reason, my desire to play anything baseball (actual baseball, softball, whiffleball, and yes, even video game baseball) has never diminished.  For some reason, the fire for baseball has burned within me since I was a lad and that fire only grows stronger with age.  I know...how can this be?  How can anyone be so great at something?  The answer is, I don't know, I just am.

Even as a wee lad I remember going to my friend Sheldon's house and playing Odyssey Baseball (above) on his Magnavox Odyssey, a technical wonder at the time.  I could play Odyssey baseball for hours and I kicked ass at that one too.  As I grew older and the world entered the PC age, I spent hours kicking ass at Earl Weaver Baseball (below)

Earl Weaver baseball had an added dimension in that it kept stats for your players...which allowed me to obsess even more.  And that brings us to today...Wii Baseball and me being the greatest player in the world.

One might question the validity of my 'Greatest in the World' claim but I've looked online this morning and have found two people claiming skill levels just over 3,000 and some dude who posted a video showing his skill level at 2,719.  Let me address these in order:

•   Both people claiming over 3,000 are liars and losers.  Pictures or it didn't happen buddy...nice try. 
•   Dude who posted a video of his 2,719 score - First off, you'll note that his skill level is a scant 68 points higher than mine so really, its not that big of a deal.  Next, when watching the videos, I noticed this cretin had all sorts of cables coming out of his old TV and the video was all shaky like he was playing with himself or something while it was being filmed.  Bottom line, this guy's video can be compared to the Patterson Gimlin video of Bigfoot.  Shaking camera, all kinds of stuff going on, seems really old, just too much questionable stuff to be taken totally seriously so we can't call it 'official documentation'

Long story short, you can see from the photos above that I truly am the greatest Wii Baseball player in the world in spite of three claims on the web that are dubious at best.  So bow down and worship your master!

 





Does This Count?

I worked from home yesterday so there was no bike ride to work.  My plan was to take a break around noon and go for a ride but by noon, I wasn't feeling much like traditional exercise so I went in the backyard and did some long range target practice with my bb gun.  I made several trips to the back of the yard so that counts as serious exercise right?