Last Sunday I was at work looking at the weather forecast for the week. Since I was off but one day of said week, I was planning on getting a hefty amount of miles in the legs, but the thought quickly started to melt as the aforementioned forecast was looking to be in the "artic zone". One of my co-workers asked me if I was going to ride, and then I made up mind, "f#$% it, I will go out no matter what the weather is". Soon after I fired an email to my friend Dave in Texas, who was also not happy about temperatures the Lone Star State was about to embrace. I said, "if I ride Monday, then I'll ride Tuesday, and if I ride Tuesday, then I'll ride Thur and Fri"...that was it, I was in for the long haul...Monday and Tuesday came and went I was out there, getting dropped at Hains Point after only one lap of the noon ride. Wed I worked so no problem, Thursday I was back at the point, this time going a full three laps with the group. Then the snow came Thursday night and so did the National Championships and a late night watching Texas vs. Alabama and the consumption of several pictures of Shiner Bock and chicken wings, had me thinking otherwise about getting on the bike on Friday morning. No ride, but Dani managed to put the new fork on the spare bike, so some cycling was accomplished.
So far this morning (Saturday), I got up with the best intentions of riding, but soon I started to listen to the voice in my head telling me "it's too cold to ride"...the day is not over yet.
Switching topics for a bit, I tend to follow the pro scene here and there, and considering myself somewhat of a cycling fashionista, I couldn't help but vomit a little bit when I saw this. Come on, the kit color combination is just horrendous, but matching it to a red and black bike, someone in Kazakhstan is missing a sense of humor.
From the "don't drink the Kool-Aid your president is serving" department comes news that diminutive Venezuelan climber, Jose Rujano, is for real this time. I remember the same line when he broke his contract with Selle-Italia to join Quick Step (bad move), then when Caisse d'Espagne picked him up for almost nothing. So three strikes and you are out??...maybe, but he needs to stop visiting Hugo Chavez's Palacio de Miraflores and concentrate on riding and not talking.
Rabobank's Pedro Horrillo called it quits after riding 12 seasons and having survived a crash that put him in a coma during last year's Giro. Now he will dedicate his time to his family and writing.
As the pros are heading to the warmth of Southern Spain, South Africa or Autralia to get the tan lines going, the local bunch is bundling up and facing a pretty cold weekend. Nonetheless, as Jose explained to me this morning, "it's not that cold", that sounds just like when you hear,"we'll go easy". Maybe I'll go to Hains later and do a few laps, then again, I think the supreme leader may make some chili.