Thirty-eight years old. Fugg. Getting older, slower and fatter since 1972. Tuesday saw no blog post as it was my belly button birthday. Had a nice little quiet family party (since none of my cheap ass friends threw me a huge surprise party filled with food, cake and presents . . . . fuggers), which was perfect. I don't put a whole lot of stock into birthdays, another year isn't a limiter . . . being fat and slow might be, but at my age, another year doesn't amount to much.
Don't get me wrong, I am totally open to accepting belated birthday wishes in the form of expensive gifts and money up until and including March 30, 2011.
I've steered clear of the ego demoralizer machine for a while now, but decided to carefully step onto the scale on my birthday just for shits and giggles. I dropped like seven pounds. Fuggggg! That's seven pounds less of excuses for being slow. And I wasn't even trying. And it was mid day when I weighed myself, right after lunch and downing a big jug of water. So much for my plans of staying the Clydesdale category.
No better fix for this crazy unexpected weight loss than a big heaping portion of some General Tao's Chicken. Me likey long time. And completely wiping off the face of this earth that pretty cake in less than 12 hours didn't hurt either. What can I say, I meet adversity head on.
Despite working nights Monday, I did get out for a short ride yesterday soaking up the sun and enjoying the car-free park.
Pink Lake, not looking so pink . . . this weekend with highs in the mid 20's should knock that ice down.
Only one little spot that I had to dismount on the climb up to Pinks. The rest of the way from Gameline was wide open with only one other icy/snowy spot, which was easily passable.
Not a bad way of spending 38 years on the planet.