December 17, 2014 § 12 Comments
I am hoping to get a pro contract next year and want to start the season strong, without losing fitness over the cold months. I live in Los Angeles, where it can be very hard to train during the winter. As I write this the weather has plunged to 65F, and scattered showers (20%) are predicted throughout the day. It’s been like this since Monday, and I can’t afford to lose any more fitness. I’m 37 and just upgraded to Cat 2, so this is my last shot at the big time.
Your concerns are well founded. You begin losing cardio fitness after 24 hours, and muscle begins turning into beer after a week of inactivity. Southern California is a challenging place to stay fit in the winter, with anywhere from six to ten days of overcast skies and an average of 1-2 inches of rain from October – March. Winter lows can hover in the high 50’s, often for weeks at a time. Having the right equipment will make the difference between getting a ride with BMC in 2015 and having to beat me again in an upgrade crit. Get an indoor trainer like this. All the pros use them.
I bought that trainer like you said but after thirty minutes it was so boring that I jumped off and smashed out all the plate glass windows in my house. Is racing at the pro level really this hard? Also, I posted my trainer ride on Facebag, Strava, and emailed it to all my friends but no one has “liked” or “kudo’d” it yet. Any ideas?
Sorry. I forgot to tell you, you also need to buy the entire library of these. You probably didn’t send the training file to enough people. Try Twitter, Linked-In, and Pinterest. People actually really enjoy poring over trainer files, so keep sharing. And pro racing isn’t nearly as hard as riding on a trainer for thirty minutes. If you can get up to 1-2 hours you will have simulated Roubaix or a climbing week in the Tour.
I got the library and am up to 3 hours a day. My FTP has increased 20% and I am rolling like a monster. But the software on the videos compares my wattage to the actual wattage in a pro race, and there is still a gap. For example, the winner of the Ronde averaged 350 watts for seven hours, whereas I’m averaging 175 watts for my first thirty minutes and dropping off significantly after that. Thoughts?
You are definitely pro material. Sorry, but I forgot to mention that you need someone to help structure your workouts. There are a lot of quacks out there claiming to know how to get you to the next level, but these folks are the best of the best. Get ‘r done, buddy!
All the floorboards in my house have rotted through due to the sweat from my indoor trainer. Also, I go through three tires a day, and at $70 a pop we’re having to cut back on electricity, water, and Rapha. I’m up to fourteen hours a day now, though. FTP is up another 5%! Getting “R” done!! Any ideas for the floorboards??
I forgot to tell you that you need one of these, too. All the pros have one; it’s where Lance hangs all his yellow jerseys. Also, fourteen hours is good. You might be ready to go to the next level, details here.
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August 11, 2013 § 25 Comments
I have noticed that on big group rides like the Donut, I’m not nearly as fast as most of the others, even though my coach tells me I’m awesome, especially just after the monthly check clears. Even Prez beats me on the climbs. How can I go faster?
Please push down harder on the pedals.
I was on the Donut Ride this morning and some dude came up to me who wasn’t, frankly, very nice. He said, “Yo, dude with the Arizona State Champion jersey. Did you win that or buy it at a fucking garage sale?” I was pretty insulted. I told him I’d won it this year. Then, even ruder, he said, “What did you championize, bro?” Championize? He was making fun of me. So I told him I was the Cat 5 state crit champ. That shut him up. So, two questions for you. 1) Who was that asshole? and 2) What’s a guy gotta do around here to get a little respect? They aren’t exactly handing these jerseys out on street corners, y’know?
1) That asshole was me. 2) At a minimum you’ll need to not get dropped by the women on the false flats.
Bearer of bad newsily,
I sure do hate the new Donut Ride route. It sux big greasy donkey hooters. It’s too much climbing and it was already too much climbing. You might as well call it the “Rudy and Stathis Ride.” Total bullshit. At a minimum we should have a no drop “B” ride that takes others’ abilities into account, where we can regroup every twenty minutes or so, etc.
There is a place were “B” rides are very fashionable, and where the weak, the sick, the elderly, the infirm, and the lame can ride at a friendly pace while discussing frame angles and wattage. It’s called “San Diego.”
I read all your stuff and do everything you say. I went on your kimchi diet and lost 75 pounds, getting me down to about 132 (I’m 6’4″). After a while I got really sick, all my skin fell off, I lost my job from the absences and the giant scabs, then my girlfriend of ten years left me because of those kimchi farts. Now I see that your “new thing” is donuts and beer. I’m really eager to take this plunge, but once bitten, shame on you, twice bitten, you shouldn’t be petting pit bulls, y’know? So what’s the straight skinny? Donuts and beer, is it legit?
PS: I also tried that nose breathing thing you were raving about and now I get bad nosebleeds all the time and that Prez dude still drops me on all the climbs.
Donuts and beer are the bomb, but they only work when you’ve done a 6-month kimchi purge, which you have. So you’re good to go. You should augment the donuts and beer with butter or with foods that are deep fried, like bubblegum or, best of all, deep fried butter. They’re working on a new recipe for deep fried frying oil, so when they get the right mix of mercury and cadmium to stabilize the frying oil to allow it to be fried, you can add that to your power mix. Trust me on this.
We read your blog from time to time out here in southern Illinois, and everyone pretty much agrees you’re a douchebag farty-fuck. Just wanted you to know that.
I understand that of the two actual bike racers you have in that part of your fine state, one of them spends all his free time in California, and the other has recently retired due to chronic tenderness of the loins.
I was so friggin’ stoked to finally get to do the Donut Ride this morning and ride with that Prez dude! He is the bomb! And he is stylish and cuts a pretty swashbuckling figure! Then better yet (as if it could get any better!!) he talked to me!!!!!!!!!! I was asking him training questions and he totally gave me the scoop!!! I was like, “What’s with the 54 x 11 all the time?” Know what he said? “Power training!” Friggin’ rad!! Everyone sure was powering by him!!! And I was like, “What about nutrition?” and he was like “Muscle Milk plus Muscle OJ plus Muscle Water plus Sweaty Excrescence of Skunk Testicle, it’s the bomb!” Then I was like, “Fashion tips?” and he was like “White and black are your base colors; use purple and pink and gangrene yellow for the accents. Match your kits with custom socks and gloves that also go with your eyeliner.” Eyeliner! How rad is that???
So glad you hooked up with The Man! He’s been in therapy for the last year since his forced upgrade, but has finally come out of his shell and is gearing up for 2014. You might want to avoid following his wheel too closely, though, or mentioning the words “Charon” or “Smith.” He gets pretty agitated.
Down and dirty: Is Froome really on the juice?
Does the Pope like an all-boys choir?
I’m perfectly happy with my nickname. I love it, in fact, and really appreciate all the time and effort you took to bestow it on me. My fiancee loves it, my co-workers love it (they Googled me last week), and all my teammates think it’s super. I love it so much I’d never think of asking for a new one, ’cause I’ve heard that only results in getting a really BAD nickname, unlike the cool one I really love and want to keep. Anyway (good riding on the Donut and other rides, btw, you’re killing it, you’re a beast and a monster [PS: props on the TV announcing gig, you ROCKED it], I know you’re going to kill it at nationals), so, I just wanted you know how much I love the blog and my nickname. Awesome stuff, good times! (Fist bump, bro!!). My fiancee’s mom is coming into town for the wedding here in a few weeks, and she was Googling me too, and she saw my nickname and was like WTF? I told her how cool it is and that it really means you respect the hell out of me but she’s from an Asian culture and she just didn’t “get” it, you know? There’s no way I’d ever give up my nickname, not even for her. Still, she got to complaining to my fiancee (who LOVES the nicky, as I said), and it’s become something of an “issue” here right before we get married. So, this is a long way of saying that — and this is NOT for me — could you get me a nickname that uses the word “cobra” or “stingray” or “lethal” and we’ll just use it until the MIL goes home, and we’re through with the wedding and things have settled in? You rock, buddy!
Done, my friend. Henceforth you are “Cobra Penis.” See you on the road, and give my best to your mother in-law.
December 6, 2012 § 10 Comments
I was force-upgraded to Cat 2 just as I was on the cusp of the greatest victory and accomplishment and achievement of my life, yes, of course I’m talking about the Cat 3 SoCal Cup victory. No one was even in my zip code and they took it away from me just like that, depriving me of so much, taking away so much from my family, my wife, my children, and of course my legacy.
But I’m not bitter. Not at all. Not even a little.
Instead, I’m taking a negative and making it a positive. I’m taking lemons and making lemonade (you need oranges for that, right?). When one door closes I will kick another one in with my head and just hope it’s not the door to the ICU.
So I’ve set my sights on winning big in 2013. Taking home the glory with the big boys in the Masters 35+ field just like I schooled the punks in the Cat 3 and Cat 4 and Cat 5 except for those few times I splatted on my face and busted out all my teeth. The “BIG DUDE” I’ll be throwing down with is a dude named Norach Htims (that’s not his REAL name, “wink, wink,” it’s in CODE–hint, tnih). Problem is I need some strategic help because of the following analysis:
1–I’m a sprunter, Norahc’s a sprunter, except he wins a lot, which makes him more of a sprinter.
2–I’m a beast in the weight room, Norahc’s a beast in the weight room, except he’s kind of, like, more of a beast.
3–I’m dedicated to the program 24/6, but Norahc’s dedicated 24/7. As a family man I just can’t dedicate those 2.5 hours of family time while I’m snoring in church to go out and do something stupid like ride my bike. It’s just a hobby. I really feel sorry for people who are as old as me and think they’re going to get a pro contract some day. Sad, really.
4–I can’t climb, Norahc can’t climb. But we can both clumb.
5–My team is filled with deadbeats and wankers so I’m always on my own, but Norahc has a cadre of dudes who can cover breaks, chase attacks, and lead him out in the sprunt. This year they added more horses to the stable, but all my team got was this dude named Pepe who’s, like 127 lbs. and barfs every time we go over 23 mph.
6–My team kit this year is done by Joe Yule at StageOne, and Norahc will still be wearing some variation of that lame outfit designed with architectural drawing software.
7–I’m SPY, he’s Oakley.
So that’s the down and dirty. Help me, Wanky. If this works out I’ll make sure you get a cut from the pro contract I’m angling for.
Evad Zerep (That’s not my REAL name, “wink, wink,” it’s in CODE too–EDOC, get it?)
I’ve tried really hard to figure out the real names in this soap opera, but it’s beyond my feeble powers, so I’ll just call you “Frankendave,” okay?
After looking at the tip sheet, it’s clear that for looks and visual acuity, you have this Norahc dude beaten before the race even starts. Oakley is for wankers, straight up, and without a custom StageOne kit, he’ll always be second or third-rate when the race finishes and people start critiquing the podium-wear.
Problem is, as long you’re racing against him, you’re never gonna get to the podium unless you change things up. That’s where Wanky can help. So take out the ol’ pen and pencil and copy this shit down, because Wanky’s gonna give you some victory tips for 2013. I don’t care how good this Norahc dude is, he can be beaten (okay, maybe not by you), but more importantly, he doesn’t have the Wankmeister calling the strategy shots, and you do. He’s got the swank, but you’ve got the Wank.
1–After looking at his 2012 race results, Norahc is winning races for one reason and one reason only: He’s the first guy over the line. That’s it, simple as A-B-C. You can p*wn him every day, every race, by finishing in front of him. So it’s pretty easy, actually. Just go a tad faster and then you’ll be first, not him. Okay, a shitload faster. Okay, a few time zones faster. Whatever.
2–The best way to beat a sprinter is to get on his wheel and come around him at the end. For all your races next year, you will need to get on Norahc’s wheel with one lap to go. Then, just as he takes off, give him a couple of pedal strokes to accelerate, stay in his draft, then YOU push the pedals even harder and rocket by him. Then you’ll be the winner and he’ll be the first loser.
3–Since no one’s going to let Norahc ride in a break with them, your next best game plan is to get in the winning break. When you see the winning break go, just ride up to them and hop on. It may seem hard riding by yourself away from 150 people to cross a windswept, rolling 45-second gap, but that’s just in your head. Once you’re in the break just sit there and rest. Don’t do a thing. Then all the other guys like Paolinetti and Tintsman and MJ and DiMarchi, who will have been working like Trojans the whole race and who will have let you sit back there steeping tea and tightening the ratchets on your shoes, will all be TUCKERED OUT. You just hit the gas and dust ’em in the sprint. Norahc will be so far back he’ll finish with the next age category.
4–If plans 1-3 fail? Downgrade. Or better yet, register as a new racer under the name Evad Zerep. No one will know! (Wink, kniw!)
Hey, Wankmeister Dude:
I’m a Cat 2 sprinter champion all-star ladies’ man very humble person who races with the Masters 35+. I’m not afraid of anyone especially this new guy I’m gonna tell you about who just upgraded. I don’t want to use any names because it’s a small community and people start talking and Facebooking and pretty soon even though you just said, “She’s a nice girl,” people have made it out like you knocked up the chick and are marrying her sister at a shotgun wedding. So I’m just gonna call this dude “Evad Zerep,” kind of like my own code. Name’s not important anyway because I sure ain’t scared of this dude.
Nah, he’s nothin’, you can take my word for it. When he finally lines up against me next year I’m going to dismantle him I got no problems with this dude. He’s a friend but on the bike I’m not scared of him at all. You can take that to the bank. Just not Countrywide.
But, even though I ain’t scared of this dude, somebody like YOU would be because actually for a wanker dude he’s pretty quick. He’s not near as quick as me, got it? But he’s a thousand times quicker than YOU’LL ever be. No offense, but I’ve seen those pictures of you in the weight room and I’ve seen you race and dude, you suck. No offense.
So anyway, let’s say someone like you is really worried about this Zerep dude, right? You’re, like, staying up at night, and checking out his FB, and getting intel on him and watching everything he does because YOU’RE afraid, and you should be.
So now, here’s my question: How would a scared slow dude like YOU (not a super fast un-scared dude like me) race against this Zerep dude to beat his ass? That’s my question.
I ain’t scared of no one for nothing,
I’m actually not scared of this Zerep dude at all, except on Tuesdays and Thursdays when he shows up on the NPR, because I don’t have to race against him. You, on the other hand, should be terrified. You’ll have your hands full in 2013 with this Zerep character. Don’t ever underestimate a cross-dressing Puerto Rican who can wear green and yellow and not get immediately thrown in jail. Dude’s got skills.
You can beat him, though, because you’ve got the Wankmeister on your side. He’s got the swank, but you’ve got the Wank. Let me walk you through it.
1–Dude’s most dangerous move is the 200m head-throw. This is where you’re going full gas, you think you’ve got him at the line, when just at the last second he hurls himself off his bike and passes you, face-first, by a nose. It’s bloody and nasty and there’s tooth enamel everywhere afterwards, but a vee is a vee is a vee. To counter the head-throw all you need to do is wear one of those big Groucho Marx fake glasses-and-big-nose disguises. Zerep’s nose is too short to beat one of those, even with a solid face toss.
2–Dude’s next most dangerous move is the 350m skitterchop. Just as you’re coming through the last turn, he slides his back wheel and cuts the turn and sends the top-placed four or five riders over the curb and onto the gurney. Dude’s arms are raised for the last 200m, the only person even close is the paramedic. Your best counter when he starts to slide, wobble, and chop, is to scream out “Free Rapha socks right THERE!” He’ll twist his neck, let off on the gas, rear tire won’t skitter, and you’ll come through the turn and leave him in the dust. By the way, what the hell are you doing behind him?
3–Zerep Coffee Zing: Watch out for this one because it happens BEFORE the race starts. You’re standing under your team tent, getting your nuts waxed by some hot exercise physiologist, excuse me, I mean warming up on the trainer, and you’re also sipping on your favorite soy latte double froo-froo mocha caramel quaddro espresso, and that cup is hot. Fiery hot. Zerep comes up behind you and sticks his tongue in your ear. Poof! You spill the coffee on the head of the masseuse, scald her scalp, and she bites down on your, uh, pedal. OWWWW! Blood loss in the big tent! You lose half a pint while it takes four strong men to wrap a giant tarp around the massive bleeding and wounded, uh, pedal. That half a pint is the margin of victory, Htmis. So: Take care of all your “warm-up” the night before, and save race day for racing.
Well, that’s all the golden advice for today. Happy racing, and Doog Kcul!
December 5, 2012 § 11 Comments
Everybody is getting fitter and faster, but when I ask them what they’re doing, they say, “Nothing,” or “Just chilling with base miles,” or “Taking time off the bike.” How can that be? When I take time off the bike I eat Cheetos by the kilo and gain, like, ten pounds a day. What’s the deal here? Are they telling the truth?
E. A. Poe
Are they cyclists? Are they talking about their training? Then they’re LYING. This is the time of year when everyone has a double secret probation training plan formulated by their Olympic coach. It includes weight loss, weight training, intervals, and long miles at medium intensity. Plus a new bike, a new gym membership, new team kits, and the latest “secret weapon,” which is protein replenishment during the ride.
Don’t worry, though. The same guys will still win all the same races. And you, Edgar, will still suck. So enjoy the Cheetos.
Prez says that Rapha is the Prada of cycling. What is Prada?
Prada is Italian for “Go to the front and take a fucking pull, you wanker!” Isn’t Italian concise? Rapha-wearers like the Goose-Man NEVER go to the front and NEVER take a pull because they’re already wearing Rapha, which makes it just as if they “took a pull.” Cool, huh?
How exactly is weight training going to make me faster? I don’t fancy blowing money on a gym membership. Plus, I got a weak back.
Weight training has been proven time and time again to make people better cyclists. After a month in the gym you will hate the oily ‘roid dealers, the urine soaked smell of all the benches, the gooey smears of other people’s sweat on the mats, and the narcissistic mirror-preening so much that you’ll do anything to avoid the weights, including ride your bike. So you’ll be getting in huge miles by trying to avoid the gym, which will make you faster.
I’ve religiously followed the Wankmeister Hunger Diet during the off-season and have lost forty pounds. But I’m afraid I’m going to cave during the food-and-drink overdose of the holidays. Advice?
Writing on the Walledly,
Oh my Dog, I can’t believe you took any of that diet crap seriously. I was joking. That diet will kill you. Start your holiday binge NOW!
Panicked about the lawsuitedly,
I tried ‘cross this winter because you said it would help me when crit season started. So far I’ve broken three ribs, been hospitalized twice, and torched two brand new frames. What do you say now?
Sounds like you’re ready to give up cycling any day now. See? It’s working!
September 29, 2012 § 16 Comments
I recently, as in “today,” crashed while riding through Portuguese Bend. Several of my riding buddies said that I did great because I didn’t break anything or get hit by oncoming traffic or knock anyone else down or get my head run over by the rider behind me. I’m still not sure I did it properly, though.
You are correct to be concerned. Eyewitnesses say that when you lost control, you flew over the handlebars and did a “superman” onto the pavement, fully extended, smacking the side of your face.
Crashing style points are typically awarded as follows, and generally speaking, faceplants of any type score very low, if at all.
Tuck and Roll, concluding in a full standing position, bike unharmed: 10 points
The Sergio, where the full catastrophe is caught on film, you are twelve feet in the air, and don’t leave the scene in traction: 9 points
Collarbone Crack, where there’s little to no external damage to kit or bike: 8 points
First Day of School, where you crash your new ride on its maiden voyage, but only scratch it: 7 points
Psycho Mike Biketoss, where you flip yourself over the bars from a standing start for no apparent reason, flinging the bike forward so that it clips the recently-mended broken elbow of the rider in front of you without taking him down: 6 points
VeloCenter Warmup Takedown, where you clip the wheel in front of you during a warmup behind the motor and take down seven other riders: 5 points
NPR Glide & Slide, where you take the wide, easy, uncluttered, open turn from Pershing onto the Parkway but nonetheless slide out and torch your bike: 4 points
Canyon Leap, where you ride off a cliff on Piuma going uphill at 4mph because you’re staring at your wattage display: 3 points
Stern-O Pussy Riot, where you flip off a motorist, who flips out and beats up your friends while you stand off to the side and watch: 2 points
Ricky Rocket Garage Crawl, where you beat up the motorist, then run off into a neighborhood hiding in someone’s garage while the police troll the streets looking to charge you with a felony: 1 points
The Frankendave, where most of the face and all frontal teeth are removed on impact: 0 points
PS: Glad it’s just scratches and bruises! Heal up!
September 14, 2012 § 37 Comments
It finally happened. A frightened and outraged participant called out the New Pier Ride for its reckless, dangerous, traffic-law-violating, scofflaw ways. It appears that as the pack was flying down the hill on Vista del Mar to the light at Grand, “1/3 of the pack” rolled through the red light.
Wankomodo, in the back 2/3, the light stone red, and motorists with the right of the way staring at a green light as a mob of bikers roared by, called out “slowing” with twelvedy-nine speeding riders behind him. Then, to avoid getting rear-ended, he pulled a right to “wait out the light.”
Wankomodo duly noted that he “has seen some sketchy and dangerous behavior by NPR riders,” but proudly said that he “tries his best not to be one of them.” In addition to “pissing off motorists,” this dangerous behavior “makes cyclists look bad.”
Some of the folks behind this sudden stop-and-swerve maneuver voiced their displeasure with verbiage familiar to flailing wankers everywhere after a bonehead move: “You fucking asshole! What the fuck are you doing?” and similar sentiments were duly expressed. Wankomodo was offended, and let everyone know that if he was going to get “bitched at for riding safe and obeying the law on the NPR” then “the NPR is not for me.”
After this manifesto, Wankomodo then went on to question himself. “Was I wrong to call out ‘slowing’ and stop at the traffic signal?” More importantly, he begged for confirmation that this type of behavior was not “condoned” on Big Orange team rides. After all, Wakomodo reminded us, he has a family that relies on him and he didn’t need to take any more risks with motorists than he already does.
A heartfelt thanks to Wankomodo
See, there I was wondering all day what I was gonna blog about, and bing, Wankomodo delivered this gem, pre-cut and polished and already set in the 14-karat band. It’s folks like him that make writing easy and fun!
So, let’s get down to business.
First: Were you wrong to slam on your brakes, screech “Slowing!” as you slam a hard right turn at the light, and scare the bejesus out of fifty other idiots just because you had a chickenshit brainfart?
Answer: No. Given the fact that you were in the back 2/3 of the wankoton, what you did was perfectly acceptable. That’s what the back 2/3 is for, so idiots like you can ‘tard out and kill other numbskulls who couldn’t handle a bike safely even if it was bolted to the floor.
However, if you’d pulled that shit in the front 1/3, we would have jerked you off your fucking bike and drop-kicked your sorry ass into the urine and poop processing pools along Vista del Mar, because that’s the kind of shit that gets people killed. Don’t ever slam on your fucking brakes in the middle of a fast moving pack, doorknob.
Second: Does Big Orange condone this kind of behavior?
Answer: Who gives a rat’s ass what Big Orange condones? They’re not the ride police. They’re a local group of wankers just like the rest of us, and if you’d pulled that bullshit in front of the Big O dudes and chicks I know they would have given you a what-for. The NPR is a big old group ride, which is longhand for “clusterfuck,” where the goofballs hang on at the back for dear life and those who want to live another day strive might and main to be near the front or, Dog forbid, on it.
Third: It’s daaaaaaaangerous on these big group rides, isn’t it?
Answer: Yeah, fuddlefuck, it is. Group rides like this are a great way to get seriously injured or killed. If you’re not taken out by some moron slamming on his brakes in the middle of an intersection, chances are you’ll be smushed by a big yellow maintenance truck on the Parkway.
Group rides are really fucking dangerous because they incorporate idiots like you with UCI pros with flub-happy in-line skaters with bone idling wankers on training wheels. Throw into the mix ten score of pissed off morning commuters, sun in your eyes, wet roads, oncoming traffic, badly timed lights, weaving in and out of traffic, cutting off oncoming trucks at the turnarounds, rocks, glass, debris, flats, overlapped wheels, equipment failure, panic attacks, cracks in the road, howling wind, and lummoxes going 35 mph with their heads staring straight down and you’ve got a recipe for serious injury.
The Pier Ride has been around for over 30 years, and people have gotten every sort of awful injury as a result. Just this year one guy broke his hip, a chick hit the curb with her head, Bumpngrind fell down in a turn, and there have been about twelve gazillion near-sprunt deaths.
Get it? These things are stupid and deadly and make no sense at all, like cycling itself. That’s why we do them.
Fourth: Should we be concerned about pissing off motorists?
Answer: Yes, just like we should be concerned about world peace, the third round of Quantitative Easing, and whether the left hand really does feel like a different person.
But you know what? When you have a zillion idiots barreling through a light, and all the traffic is stopped letting us go through, there’s a certain number of motorists who are just going to be pissed and hate our guts and have to go to their shitty jobs and complain about it while we get to spend our morning riding our bikes. Life sucks to be them.
Plus, what the fuck are you, Ambassador at Large for the Cycling Public? Cyclists, like motorists, are 9 parts idiot to 1 part skilled. Why are you so fucking concerned about pissing off motorists, who already hate you anyway? Why not be concerned about them pissing us off?
Fifth: Is the NPR just a bunch of scofflaw traffic-law violators?
Answer: Since you admit to running stop signs and lights “when no one’s around,” as if that makes it legal, I guess you sort of answered your own question. If you want to play Polly Patrolman or Harry Hall Monitor, it’s going to take a lot of time and effort. Why not spend it “Just Saying No” to the third helping of sugar donuts, and get strong enough so that you can stay up front and let the rearguard fend for itself? We’re all adults out here, even Prez, and no one gets up at 5:00 AM to be nagged at by some wankhappy newbie who belatedly realized that the pavement is hard and that oncoming traffic weighs slightly more than a carbon bike and lycra bodysuit.
Sixth: Should you be taking these risks since your family relies on you?
Answer: It’s refreshing to hear that of the 150+ people who regularly do the NPR, we finally have one whose family depends on him. The rest of us have families, but they don’t give a rat’s ass if we live or die, or what happens to us. That’s why we bike all the time.
The answer, of course, is “No.” You shouldn’t be taking these risks. In fact, you shouldn’t be taking any at all, you big pussy. Starting tomorrow, when the alarm goes off, stay in bed. Your risks will plummet dramatically.
If you do have to get out of bed (avoid the dangerous shower!), please don’t ride your bike. LA County roads are the site of numerous deaths and countless bike-car accidents every year. Cycling is dangerous. Cycling on roads is dangerous. Cycling with other idiots is dangerous. Cycling with cars is super duper dangerous. Cycling down dirt trails is dangerous (trees hurt!). Cycling without brakes or gears is dangerous. And most of all, being an idiot who slams on his brakes in the middle of a fast moving pack on a downhill is dangerous beyond any fucking description.
Which leads to the final question…
Seventh: Although you’ve been cycling for 25 years, since you’re new to the “fast group ride thing,” is this the norm for all group rides?
Answer: Dude, saying you’ve been riding for 25 years but have never done fast group rides is like saying you’ve been jacking off for 25 years but haven’t ever used your penis. Fast group rides all have several common elements. I’ve listed them below for easy reference.
- They are flat fucking crazy scary deadly and dangerous.
- Wankers like you are the prime reason they’re so dangerous.
- If you want to ride with other idiots, you have to chance death and mayhem. The legal term in California is ASSUMPTION OF THE RISK. Memorize it.
- Group rides won’t make you faster or fitter.
- Group rides will teach you survival skills.
- Group rides will help you make friends even if you’re a total kook, although it will take longer.
- Group rides have the best offering of post-ride lies and “Didja see me?” tall tales.
- Group rides have the hottest chicks with the cutest butts.
- Group rides are where you can have some chick like Suze crack your nuts in half and remind you how much you suck.
- Group rides are terrifying beyond belief.
- Group rides are where you bond with other living, breathing, mostly human beings. They’re the opposite of solo ego-fapping Strava jagoffs.
- Group rides are where, if you stick it out and pay attention and follow the right wheels, you may actually, one day, learn how to ride your fucking bike.
Hope this helps!
August 25, 2012 § 19 Comments
I’m not a cycling fan because it’s so boring. Riding bicycles? For a living? But I read that Lance Armstrong got busted for doping even though he passed 500 piss and blood tests and is the most tested athalete in the history of sport. WTF?
He is the victim of a witch hunt. This where people hunt for witches, which don’t exist in the real world. So they find an ugly old lady with a droopy bosom and scraggly hair, call her a witch, and then put her on a giant wooden scales with a duck to see if she floats like a piece of wood in water or sinks. Then they burn her. Have you ever seen shirtless Lance Armstrong? Major droopy bosom. No scraggly hair, but a pretty scraggly face. Ergo witch. Now they’re going to burn her. Him. It.
Salem (means “peace” in Hebrew)
I’m a Harvard-educated attorney who specializes in personal jurisdiction. It’s absurd for USADA to claim that they had jurisdiction over this matter. Pennoyer v. Neff.
The legal issues in this case are exceedingly complex. Please see the handy-dandy chart I’ve devised to help you crack the “code.”
|Legal Issue||Legal Precedent||Legal Outcome|
|Who has the most $?||USADA||USADA wins|
|Who has jurisdiction?||The richer party||USADA wins|
|Is USADA a govt. agency?||They act like one||USADA wins|
|What is the statute of limitations for doping?||Fucking forever||USADA wins|
|Is Lance a douchebag?||Last 20 yrs. of his behavior||Yes|
|Where is Johan Bruyneel?||Never missed a big race||Living in a cave|
|Who gets Lance’s jerseys?||Bjarne Riis: Kept ’em||The only clean team in sports: US Kegel Team|
|What happens to Vaughters et al.?||[Keep a straight face here]||Nothing|
|What’s the evidence that he doped?||[Quit screeching with laughter]||Come on. Really, now.|
First Year Lawyerly,
I’ve been a Livestrong fan since its inception. Now my son Billy is asking me shit like, “Daddy, is Mr. Lance a cheater?” and “Daddy, are you going to quit wearing those cheater bracelets?” and “Daddy, what are you going to do about that big tattoo?”
Roll J. Model
PS: Do you know anyone who would like a couple of crates of really cool yellow bracelets, extra cheap?
If you cave on this, your relationship with young Billy is toast. Forever. The best defense is an overwhelming offense. See if you can get him to crack with one of these opening gambits–
- “Son, if you believe he’s a cheater, then you’re calling me a liar for calling Mr. Lance a great champion. Five is kind of young to be living on the streets, isn’t it?”
- “Son, if it’s written in the media it’s a lie. The media are liars, every single one of them, except the ones who refuse to be suckered in by the lies of the media. So who are you with? The liars or your Dad and Mr. Lance? Choose wisely. It’s cold in the winter when you’re living on the streets.”
- “Son, it really hurts to have you say this about me and Mr. Lance. But it’s going to hurt you more when I get through beating your ass with this belt.”
Justice has been done. A terrible cheater and fraud on humanity has been brought to account for his misdeeds. This is the happiest day of my life.
Tubby Benders (Former hall monitor)
I’m very happy for you. Now please go to Costco. I hear they’re having a 2-for-1 “Get a Life” sale this week. You can borrow my membership card.
LA did a lot of good by curing cancer. Shouldn’t that count for something?
Let’s imagine you raped the shit out of a bunch of kids. Then, while you were raping the shit out of them and fucking them up for life, you formed a charity through your famous football job to help displaced children, which also helped you find more kids to rape. After factoring in the good you’d done for those kids you actually helped, do you know what you’d be? A child rapist and a convicted felon. Get it?
When can we get back to cycling?
Bored to death with this shit,
Average Joe Cyclist
Dear Average Joe:
Saturday morning at 8:00 AM, Riviera Village, Redondo Beach, California. Life begins again.
July 14, 2012 § 9 Comments
I want to lodge a protest against guys who win a bunch of crits, especially that Charon dude. He sits in until the end and out-sprints everybody. What a big pussy. Plus, you know, there’s that OTHER thing…who does he think he is?
Krack R. Biggit
People like you make me barf. You are angry because he’s better than you are. If you put as much time into improving your own lack of skills as you do into criticizing his success, you might finish better than 43rd. But I doubt it. In the meantime, feel free to lodge your protest up your ass.
As for that OTHER thing, I can see how it would make you angry. There you were, on your nice ten thousand dollar bike with all your white friends, and then some black dude started winning all “your” races. Not just winning them, either, but winning them overwhelmingly, by multiple bike lengths. Plus, he’s such a nice and loyal guy that he’s become part of a team where everyone works for the victory, and everyone shares in the success, and no one cares about bullshit like what color the other person is.
That’s really different from your team, isn’t it, where everyone’s the designated winner, so no one ever wins, right? Where everyone’s jealous of everyone else? Where the composition of the team changes radically from year to year because everyone hates each other?
But back to the OTHER thing. Bike racing has always been a sport for white people. With the exception of tremendous riders like Nelson Vails, and one of the greatest cyclists in the history of the sport, Major Taylor, it’s been dominated by white people. When Major Taylor came to Europe and devastated the Euros at their own game, Henri Desgrange, founder of the Tour and racist, was so incensed that he demanded Taylor be paid in 10-centime pieces.
Most people who race against him could care less about Charon’s color, but a handful of grumblers and whiners and closet rednecks can’t stand getting their dicks stomped by a black dude in “their” sport.
See, Krack, here’s the thing: if you’re black in America and you rise to the top in ANYTHING it’s because you were better, and usually a lot better. Nobody ever woke up and had someone knock on the door and say, “Hey, any young black kids in here? We’d like to give them extra fancy horseback lessons or free TT bikes or a ten-year membership to the country club because they’re black.”
Doesn’t work that way. My buddy Lee, who grew up in Louisiana, finally quit riding bikes after five or six years because his family couldn’t afford tires, and riding around on steel rims just wasn’t very much fun, especially when the white kids came tearing by on bikes with tires and tubes.
If you’re a black athlete and you rip apart the competition a la Michael Jordan or Cam Newton, people say it’s because you’re “naturally talented,” i.e. you didn’t really have to work at it because it just came to you that way. If you’re a black athlete and you’re just average, or you’re projected to be great and you flame out, you’re called “lazy.” Natural talent, my ass. The Rahsaans and Charons and Justins of this sport work their butts off. Without an incredible work ethic their “natural talent” wouldn’t get them anywhere, much less on the podium.
When you’re a black dude breaking into a white sport, whether it’s cycling (Major Taylor), tennis (Arthur Ashe), baseball (Jackie Robinson), or any other job, you have to work harder, think smarter, and make the super-extra effort to improve and develop the personal relationships that underlie success, whether you’re trying to be a Supreme Court Justice, President of the United States, or world champion on the track. Show me a black guy who’s competing predominantly against white people and more often than not I’ll show you someone with far above average interpersonal skills, work ethic, and smarts.
The great thing about racing and riding in SoCal is that the vast majority of cyclists don’t care about color. We got the white dudes, the black dudes, the Hispanic dudes, the Asian dudes, and the dudes whose parents are from different races. It all works well, and for the most part color’s not part of the equation.
But when you’re blazing trails like Rahsaan Bahati, or Justin Williams, or Charon Smith, or Cory Williams, and when you’re blazing them over the dicks of white people, there will always be one or two who complain about the tread marks you leave on their tender parts. They were getting stomped before you ever came along, of course. But somehow it just hurts worse when they know you’re black.
Please keep stomping.
July 4, 2012 § 4 Comments
You were kind of off again on that Peraud dude. Looks like he just flat out sucks.
But sheesh, you were spot on with Humpty Ugly and your prediction that he’d win the field sprunt. Dog. He just ripped ’em all a new one.
You are such a stud, WM. What’s your call for tomorrow?
Dear Badger Dude:
There’s little question that Jean-Christophe Peraud has had some bad luck these past several stages, not least because of the terrible case of septicemia he had a couple of years ago following a bad crash. Tomorrow, however, is a perfect stage for him. Winner of Stage Five: Peraud by a zip code.
The rest of the results are harder to predict. On a historical note, the race ends in Saint-Quentin, the site of Johnny Cash’s legendary live prison performance in 1969. Expect “Orange Blossom Special” and “Jackson” to be blaring along the route, and June Carter Cash to serve as one of the podium girls.
Best of the rest:
Humpty Ugly: He’ll take it again. All of it. In a thundering, gorilla-like, Aryan blast to the line Greipel will put all challengers to the sword after sucking wheel and filing his nails for the entire 197-km route. His lead-out train will be perfect. All others will scramble for crumbs.
Tyler Farrar: Who?
Horseface: Crash out like he did in Stage 3 of the 2012 Giro, Stage 4 of the 2012 Turdy, Stage 4 of the 2010 Tour de Suisse, etc.
July 3, 2012 § 6 Comments
Well, anudder day, anudder wrong predictions. You don know shit about wielrenner. You say Sagan a fuck no, Sagan win. You say Peraud gonna winner, dat fuk a loser. You say Hutarovich gonna seconder, dat fuk a hunnerd durdy-sixer. You gonna shoulda toss a computer inna dumpster and shut up fuk mouth.
Pleghmy van Flandria
Dude, I was so on target. You just didn’t “get it.” Are you related to Mr. Really Smart, the douchebag who commented on yesterday’s masterpiece? You sure sound like it.
I told Saggs yesterday (and I quote) “Don’t even fucking think about it.” This referred to his lame Fabs wheelsuck from Stage 2. I wasn’t forbidding him from winning. In fact, in a reverse psychological way I was actually encouraging him to win, which he did. So I not only got it right, I’m entitled to at least half of his winnings. So fuck you for that.
Peraud didn’t win, but he almost won, which is pretty much the same thing. He got 37th. When’s the last time you got 37th in a Tour stage, asshole? Fucking never, that’s when.
Hutarovich didn’t get second overall, but he got second after the dude who was the first person to place #135. So fuck you for that, too.
We can ignore all that crap, though. The money prediction was that Mullet would fuck up and act like a wanker. And you know what? He did!!! Like an idiot, he got caught up behind a crash and finished :49 down on the winning group. Now you’re like, “So vat bout dat? He’s a still a seconder overall and he’s aheader of dat Cadel. Don give no cheese fart bout dat.”
Of course, you’re wrong again, because it shows that when the chips are down, Mullet’ll act like a noob and crash out, or get all nervous and do something dumb. You watch. This was the Klutz Overture to what promises to be a Brad Dorkington Symphony.
PS: Notice how perfectly I predicted Horseface and Humpty Ugly? 153rd and 38th, respectively. Damn, I’m good.