36

I turned 36 this past weekend, on Thanksgiving day. Every 6 years or so my birthday lands on turkey day with a few occasions where it's 7 years apart due to leap year. I don't feel old. I feel whatever, 36 is just some number at this point. There was a time when 36 looked ancient. But now I'm healthier than ever so my current age is just a number.

We went out to my parents on Thursday where my mom made food for 15 though there were only 4 of us plus Julia. My step-father and I also decided that the water pump on the "good" car is shot which is fun for money spending hilarity. On the way home Julia fell asleep and when she woke up she discovered the moon was up and her obsession began. 4 days later and she's still pointing up at the ceiling chanting, "moon...moon...moon..."

I got a great birthday present at 5:00 am Thursday when Julia rolled over and cuddled up to me in bed and slept with me for an hour. This is a child that hates being touched when she sleeps and here she is cuddling in bed. 2 nights later she slept with me the whole night. Last night she wanted nothing to do with me but when I got up and walked out of the bedroom I heard her screaming, "DAAAADYYYY!!!"

On Friday we dropped the car off and learned that it is indeed the water pump. Thankfully Julia is old enough to handle car rides now so we went back to Richie in Union and he informed us it was going to be really expensive, "like 4 or 5 hundred," he says. I laugh, as the dealer would have pressed us for a grand without question.

On Saturday I led a ride out at Round Valley with 14 people, 2 who dropped right away with a mechanical and 3 who knew the place and kept their own pace, which left 9 of us. At the end of the main trail 2 turned off and I took the 7 of us up and over into Cushetunk where 3 people turned back because the terrain was pretty rough. So as usually, my group ride skills suck as 14 turned into 4. We caught them on the rebound and took the fire road back. I can say without question that the end of the season drop in saddle time added to my 2 week vacation binge has shot the shit out of my fitness. The monster climb I cleaned 3 weeks ago took me out 3 times. And the rollers on the end trail got me twice. So that's 6 clip-outs where 3 weeks ago I had 1. Sad.

So I capped that off by going to Terren and Cheryl's and eating like a pig and drinking beer. Fuck it. When in Rome, eat and drink, I think is the expression?

Yesterday was mostly domestic stuff which found us as Toys R Us late in the day which just makes me depressed. I see something I want to get her then I battle internally and think I should just get it but what if she doesn't like it and blah blah blah. It's a depressing internal debate. I don't know why.

I was supposed to ride to my parents on Thursday but I didn't want to send my wife out with a sick little girl so I scratched it. Too bad, it was a great day. We saw 66 on the thermometer at one point. Nuts. I did a road ride Friday, Round Valley Saturday, and hit the trainer yesterday because my cold weather clothes were in a bag and fermenting, so highly not wearable. This morning I hit the trainer again as my season starts to gain some long, slow momentum into '08. Back to hitting the bike before work and it's a bit of a shock on a Monday morning off a 4 day weekend.

I am also a big fat slut right now. 193 this morning which is a false high but still a gross number. Feel free to make your guesses to what that number will be Friday morning. I'll go with 189, and be happy if that comes to pass.

Fat, drunk, and stupid really is no way to go through life.