Punishment

I’m being punished for something – must be. Maybe its for my crush on Nancy Pelosi, or...who knows. The last three nights have been spent on my trainer, in the garage,, watching passe' stages of the Tour of California while sweating in the balmy 45 degree temps at 10:15pm. Guess what, Levi Leipheimer wins again on his home course - what a surprise! Yeah, I always hoped I’d be doing this when I was talkin’ shit about how great I’d be back when I was 14, 18, and 22.

Every one of my teammates manages to find time to ride, you know, when the sun freakin’ shines. I don’t get it, man. Work up to my eyeballs, Lyza has a project on Volcanoes due soon, my old dog is falling apart like a rusted out Pinto, and for fuck’s sake there just aren’t enough hours in the day. I don’t even have a TV, nor do I read anything more than the mail. What the hell? If I had my way, I’d win the lottery, quit work, take Lyza to the Big Island to see a freakin’ volcano, buy Dana a lifetime scholarship at every holistic institute in Amurka, and find the fountain of youth for my old sweetie Jamocha. The old girl is 14.5 years – for a purebred chocolate lab, that’s gotta be damn near a Guinness record. Oh yeah, I’d do some volunteer work too………right after I got back from Morocco, Spain, the Cayman Islands, Greece, Caracas, Fiji, Alaska, and after I bought a 700 acre ranch and remodeled the whole thing, and after I bought a coffee plantation on Kauai and lived/worked there for 12 years.

So what the hell am I on the trainer for? 1) Sanity. I have a chemical imbalance if I go more than 72 hours without a hard aerobic effort. Bitchy, short, snappy, short-fused…you know, really fun to be around. 2) I’m afraid of failing at the Whiskey 50. I don’t know why, because nobody is paying me to ride. I know why – it’s because I can recall every feeling of crossing the line back in 2007 to the point where I know my brain isn’t embellishing the dehydration, cramps, nausea, and the fact that my ass felt like it was hit with a belt sander. That ride was on a full suspension, geared bike….this year it’ll be a one gear hardtail. Goddamn, I can’t wait until this is over. 3) We have some youth on our race team this year, and I want to stomp those late 20’s dudes to the curb, crush their skulls, take their pink slips, father children with their wives, rob their parents, and burn their houses down. In other words, I'm not in any way shape or form ready to lose a step. 4) I quit running until the trails, under 4 feet of snow, are clear.

There you go. I guess I do know what the punishment is for, so I can still love me some Nancy Pelosi.