What's goin' on?
There's not a lot going on here at El Rancho Gordo. Looks like some cold and maybe freezing rain is going to wreck my ride plans for tomorrow, so I'll be sitting on the trainer come tomorrow night, grinding out some zone 2. That's library paste-level boredom in my future.
That doesn't mean we can't have some fun.
Let's see what some of my friends are up to.
Beth is obviously going stark raving nuts in the Upstate New York winter. She's applying that big brain, the impressive physiotherapy and cycling credentials, dealing with a few medical issues of her own, struggling to fight off the Yukon-style cabin fever that is no doubt settling in, and doing bike fits.
Dave, who is a smart guy, is determined to prove how damned dumb he is by failing to bring sufficient fuel and drink for a 3 hour tour. A 3 hour tour.
Betty Betty is finding that disciplined Zone 2 riding - your aerobic base work - is actually pretty hard to pull off. Freezing her normally Itchy Bits clean off in the Joisy winter does not make it any easier.
Fatticus is living The High Life. And, as you all know, if there is one thing the messing with of which is prohibited, it is The High Life.
Burt Hoovis is recovering from some busted up ribs that got damaged when he went mountain biking a couple weeks ago. As a roadie and frequent crasher of all things mountainy and bikey, I feel your pain, dumbass. Burt is busy posting mildly porny pictures (including one tatoo'ed beauty that even P'burgh Steevo likes), hatin' on dopers, and labeling all things triathlon with a variety of sexual preference-based slurs. In other words, he's doing what he always does, pretty much. I expect we're in for somewhat increased hockey blogging in the near future. If you have never checked out Burt's blog, you will love it, if you're the kind of person who would love Burt's blog. There's really no other way to put it.
Sven Nystrom is riding a mountain bike, drinking beers, and lovin' on his family. Not a lot of verbiage, but some good pics. I always get the feeling from Chris that he's got some things figured out.
Scott is walking with the animals, talking with the animals. MABRA's own Doctor Doolittle looks like he had fun on his winter vacation.
John is talking about riding, thinking about riding, and actually riding. And shoe blogging.
Gwadzilla is photo blogging, except without the photos because he used up all his free Flick'r bandwidth. Joel is the only person I know who can photo blog without actually posting any photos. If you know him, it makes perfect sense. Trust me on this one thing.
The Ikon is testing some bags and observing radio silence since pre-Christmas, presumably to avoid being snuck up upon, and waylaid by a sneaky case of homebrew. There is precedent for such things.
Kim is partying with family and friends, and riding her MTB.
These bastards is crazy. Crazy, and trying to figure out how to get into the 2009 Single Speed World Cup which has the coolest entry form evah, a coloring contest. Betcha that you get in if you paint the entry form with your own spinal fluid, fellas. Other than that, I got no suggestions.
The Uff Da is talking about how to improve women's cross in MABRA. She's smart, so I'd pay attention to her. She comes from a land just south of lake Woebegone, a place where the men are handsome, the women beautiful, and every Physics professor is just slightly above average.
Um, yeah. It's the off-season. People are up to some pretty pedestrian stuff. That's okay though. I enjoy their blogging about it; it's a little slice of life to go with my morning cup of joe.
Now here's something that's not pedestrian and guaranteed to pick up your spirits a little bit. It's a bit of Medeski, Martin & Wood, doing The Dropper. In keeping with this blog's policy of More Funk in Your Trunk, this jam is certified as containing at least 50% more funk than the average YouTube video. Your Trunk will be funkified following this song.
If that didn't do it for ya, then, there's something wrong with you, and we're going to need to go with a double dose, which will get you going like a cup full of metamucil dissolved in a gallon of castor oil. It's the Red Hot Chili Peppers with George Clinton and the P-Funk Orchestra. You really need to turn up the volume and the bass for this one, and make sure nobody is watching you dance.
***No booty was harmed in the production of this blog entry, though some was vigorously shaken.