Gladstone Train!
I think one of these days I'm going to post an observational entry about going to work. I'm now finally rereading the posts from vacation and it got me to thinking that I should try and take notice of the same sorts of details in any given day that I commute to work. I doubt it would be more than a one-off since the same shit happens repeatedly.
On to more comments. I can only assume it was Brett who said, "197 lbs? unless your 6'-6" plus your a fat fuck." Yeah, well, I don't have much to counter with. While I'm not like technically a fat fuck I sure as hell am packing on more pounds now than I want to. Of course, I need to stop eating and drinking so damn much. Plus I'm getting an average of 6 hours of sleep a night which makes me eat more.
And out of the absolute fucking blue Vinny says, "It's your inner self screaming that your mind and body need a break. Take a weekend off, help a friend try to kick a brand new 1/2 keg of Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA and then get back into the race scene full force the following week. You know it's what you need and I'm the guy to help."
I...I just don't know what to say. I'm shocked you actually read this drivel. Don't get me wrong, I'm honored you take the time. But surprised. Dogfish Head you say? Really, when it comes down to it it's not like I get fucking pauid to ride this bike. I can't imagine what that cost. Maybe first weekend in July? A little 4th of July action?
A while back Chris threw out, "I hear you, brother. I'm currently in some sort of "body is not working" limbo as well. Chances are that I won't even bother to drive the 90 miles to the race, under the assumption that I'll feel so shitty that it'll be a waste of my time. I'm forcing myself to look beyond Sunday and just be happy to ride normally again when I'm able. This is on the heels of 160 hours of pretty planned-out training in the first quarter of my 15th year as a bike racer. So, at the risk of sounding sappy or trite, don't forget the bigger picture and all the fun you still have ahead of you on the bike."
True true. I have to have fun and I think that's pushing me against going up to Mars this weekend. Boy this stinking rain eats it. Maybe I should just say fuck it and ride both days in whatever shit the sky feels like dumping on us. Be it road bike or mountain, I sure as hell could use a good 5 hour weekend. I don't think I've had one all year, crazy as that sounds. That's poor huh? Last year I had a handful of 5 hour days.
I usually stick with 3 comments per post but Terren also commented on my fat self in saying, "That sucks. However, the fact that your performance on some days kicks ass and the fact that your clothes still fit suggests a possibility you haven't considered - that some of your extra weight is muscle. Not all of it, obviously. But I've heard that taking a break can help strength-training in terms of getting past a plateau. Maybe that's what's happening, at least in part." Well I hope so, but I'm facing the fact that I have indeed put on some blubber. Or flubber. Funny that at one point in my life I would have signed up for 195 and been happy with it. Now I think that's at least 10 pounds overweight. That's surely a good thing though, considering the old me was used to being 250 or more at times. Sounds an incredible number, doesn't it?
So. Sitting here on the platform at Summit waiting for the connecting flight out the Gladstone branch. The 2 daffy women, one blonde one grey, emerge from the steps so I know it's about time for our train to show. The Summit local pulls up across the platform, which means ours is technically 2 minutes behind. Shortly I hear the horn and the little 4 car local pulls in.
"Gladstone train! New Providence next!"
Like 8 times he says this. Fucking bald cueball repetitive motherfucker. Funny thing is, he repeats it over and over and over every day, and every 3rd day or so some dimwit gets on the train trying to go to Morristown. There are 2 trains, Gladstone and Dover. How people screw this up so frequently baffles me.
New Providence, Murray Hill, Berkeley Heights, then Gillette. Then I'm in the car heading home, about 3 miles or less with the 2 idiots from WFAN on the radio. I basically veg out on the train home because the 4 stops are all of 12 minutes. So I usually look around or out the window or maybe check mail. Nothing much exciting at this point as the train and the people zip off as fast as they can in an effort to get home ASAP. This is Thursday night after work. Dinner is supposed to be congee, a rice porridge you eat with sides like peanuts, fermented tofu, seaweed, gluten, eggs, canned fish, or hamburgers.
On Friday morning I'm not going to bore you with this yet. I will say that I've yet to make a decision on the race. But I'm highly leaning against it. The jerseys came in but Julia is sick, again. These kids are constantly sick. Translation, I got about 4 hours of sleep. I also woke up at 197 again today. So my comment that I'm getting that back in line is a joke.
I move my office location at work today. So my new beginning is for real now, at about 10:00 am.
On to more comments. I can only assume it was Brett who said, "197 lbs? unless your 6'-6" plus your a fat fuck." Yeah, well, I don't have much to counter with. While I'm not like technically a fat fuck I sure as hell am packing on more pounds now than I want to. Of course, I need to stop eating and drinking so damn much. Plus I'm getting an average of 6 hours of sleep a night which makes me eat more.
And out of the absolute fucking blue Vinny says, "It's your inner self screaming that your mind and body need a break. Take a weekend off, help a friend try to kick a brand new 1/2 keg of Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA and then get back into the race scene full force the following week. You know it's what you need and I'm the guy to help."
I...I just don't know what to say. I'm shocked you actually read this drivel. Don't get me wrong, I'm honored you take the time. But surprised. Dogfish Head you say? Really, when it comes down to it it's not like I get fucking pauid to ride this bike. I can't imagine what that cost. Maybe first weekend in July? A little 4th of July action?
A while back Chris threw out, "I hear you, brother. I'm currently in some sort of "body is not working" limbo as well. Chances are that I won't even bother to drive the 90 miles to the race, under the assumption that I'll feel so shitty that it'll be a waste of my time. I'm forcing myself to look beyond Sunday and just be happy to ride normally again when I'm able. This is on the heels of 160 hours of pretty planned-out training in the first quarter of my 15th year as a bike racer. So, at the risk of sounding sappy or trite, don't forget the bigger picture and all the fun you still have ahead of you on the bike."
True true. I have to have fun and I think that's pushing me against going up to Mars this weekend. Boy this stinking rain eats it. Maybe I should just say fuck it and ride both days in whatever shit the sky feels like dumping on us. Be it road bike or mountain, I sure as hell could use a good 5 hour weekend. I don't think I've had one all year, crazy as that sounds. That's poor huh? Last year I had a handful of 5 hour days.
I usually stick with 3 comments per post but Terren also commented on my fat self in saying, "That sucks. However, the fact that your performance on some days kicks ass and the fact that your clothes still fit suggests a possibility you haven't considered - that some of your extra weight is muscle. Not all of it, obviously. But I've heard that taking a break can help strength-training in terms of getting past a plateau. Maybe that's what's happening, at least in part." Well I hope so, but I'm facing the fact that I have indeed put on some blubber. Or flubber. Funny that at one point in my life I would have signed up for 195 and been happy with it. Now I think that's at least 10 pounds overweight. That's surely a good thing though, considering the old me was used to being 250 or more at times. Sounds an incredible number, doesn't it?
So. Sitting here on the platform at Summit waiting for the connecting flight out the Gladstone branch. The 2 daffy women, one blonde one grey, emerge from the steps so I know it's about time for our train to show. The Summit local pulls up across the platform, which means ours is technically 2 minutes behind. Shortly I hear the horn and the little 4 car local pulls in.
"Gladstone train! New Providence next!"
Like 8 times he says this. Fucking bald cueball repetitive motherfucker. Funny thing is, he repeats it over and over and over every day, and every 3rd day or so some dimwit gets on the train trying to go to Morristown. There are 2 trains, Gladstone and Dover. How people screw this up so frequently baffles me.
New Providence, Murray Hill, Berkeley Heights, then Gillette. Then I'm in the car heading home, about 3 miles or less with the 2 idiots from WFAN on the radio. I basically veg out on the train home because the 4 stops are all of 12 minutes. So I usually look around or out the window or maybe check mail. Nothing much exciting at this point as the train and the people zip off as fast as they can in an effort to get home ASAP. This is Thursday night after work. Dinner is supposed to be congee, a rice porridge you eat with sides like peanuts, fermented tofu, seaweed, gluten, eggs, canned fish, or hamburgers.
On Friday morning I'm not going to bore you with this yet. I will say that I've yet to make a decision on the race. But I'm highly leaning against it. The jerseys came in but Julia is sick, again. These kids are constantly sick. Translation, I got about 4 hours of sleep. I also woke up at 197 again today. So my comment that I'm getting that back in line is a joke.
I move my office location at work today. So my new beginning is for real now, at about 10:00 am.
Labels: pointless
1 Comments:
At 12:38 PM,
Anonymous said…
I know you've briefly summarized it for me once or twice, but I guess I never really got it - what will you be doing for your new job?
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