55 Days

By my calculations we got ourselves about 55 days until that godforsaken excuse for a bike ride, the San Felasco 50. Depending on where you stand at the moment that is either more than enough time to get in shape for it, or more than enough time to fall down the well and lose all of your summer base miles and pick up 15 lbs.

Now, if I was Sasquatch, I would get my fingers out of the ranch dressing and go ride some trails between now and then, but I ain’t him and there is no telling what kind of plan he is cooking up(probably some sort of cheese-based plan.)

I on the other hand, have a lot to lose between now and then. Months and months of unrelenting sobriety and tedium could all be wasted in the coming days of conference breakfast buffets and family holidays. If things went really bad there is even time to smoke about 1100 cigarettes between now and then. If there is one rule that is unbending it is this: Rust Never Sleeps.

The temperature is dropping. The pies are in the ovens. The days are shorter and shorter. The sweet warmth of the family bosom brooks no lone wolf antics.

“Come, sit with us, we can play a board game and eat some cinnamon rolls.” says the bosom.

How to stay motivated?

How to keep the engines of self-deprivation and hate firing through a time of loving plenty?

I need about 55 reasons to stay hungry.


19 Responses to 55 Days

  1. Why fight it? That’s the sage advice from your auntie who isn’t fighting anything anymore. Indulge while you still can. It gets you sooner or later.

  2. I, your mother, am NOT repping for the big cake, the French breakfast puffs nor for the dressing and gravy nor pumpkin pie. This is the feast or famine mother, and we are in famine days and proud to withstand it! We shall share vibes in Spanish so the others don’t interfere with them while they eat what they may! 😉 We are for strength of body and will!! 🙂

  3. I hear you loud and clear, Juancho. I, too, am trying to walk the straight and narrow. Unfortunately, I tripped and fell face first into a plate of chicken and dumplings, while in Madison County, around lunch time today. Not so straight. Not so narrow. We should team up, we’ll either stay the course, or eat this, and possible neighboring, counties out of house and home.

  4. IHOP? That place is downright EVIL, Big Jim! Actually, the way to go is EAT MORE FISH. BRCer’s can start a new tradition and fix a nice big red snapper for Thanksgiving. . .

  5. My name is red dragon, and I love chicken wings and congo bars. I ate my bike weight in congo bars yesterday. Welcome Red Dragon, we love you.