Destalk AntiRace 2009 Photo Dump

worst coffee ever . . . the cookie wasn't bad

Big Curve Acres - picked up Curvy Butt along the way

haven't been on a road trip with Curvy Butt all year -t'was old times

five rides since September 1st - bet your ass I was lubing my arse

207 lbs of hulking, lumbering lov'in

I was hoping by the time we arrived on Saturday Blue Mountains would have been bulldozed to the ground. Maybe not a mountain from where you're from . . . but I still had to go up it.

nearly died

Castle Keiller

random burr bush attacks on Marc

Vegan Vagabond eats some sort of pressed vegan saw dust treat

the alternative was an expired E-Load gel: exp. September '08 - scrummm-diddly-scrumptious

Misfit still in the woods - frequent shots of Jagermeister kept the germs and worms at bay

the original big fat ring

November, fourteen degrees, sun and single track

two days earlier I sprained my finger. Saturday morning I couldn't close my hand. This was what it looked like after the ride.

Freak'in scary

After admiring Scott's prize (for getting lost or something) he was generous enough to give it to me. WHO DOESN"T WANT TO ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT?!?! I had a hard time of deciding to either use it as new living room curtains or to put it on the wall over the headboard to our bed. I went with the latter . . . . if the bed is a rock'in, don't come a knock'in.

Follow Me - I don't know where I am going with this

Blogger must have known that I have a low self esteem when they added to the "View my complete profile" (over there dumb ass -----------> ) a quazi stat counter. Go clicky clicky on it and you'll notice it climbing to a soaring height nearly 5000 views. Yes, 5000 views. That's even more than Dicky . . . so that makes me wonderbar and really very important on a cycling blog interweb scale.

I'll be the first to admit that I am responsible for probably a thousand of them - what can I say, I like to look in the mirror. But the other 4000 . . . . ? Even I am not that narcissistic . . . or are I?

Though having a large number of views of my profile, (and unlike Richard Dillen) I still lack a large cult like following. Everyone who is everyone in the blogging world suffering from low self-esteem and eating disorders have a "followers" application to show the world that people actually read the drivel that they put out. And I am no different.

Currently, as of now, today, presently as you read this drivel, I have 23 stalkers wating patiently . . . . everyday, sometimes checking a couple times an hour just to be the first to cling onto every word I type, gazing for hours on end at every photo I load up.

My goal by the end of the year is to have at least one third of the followers (can be the same or different followers for all I care) of Dicky's blog. One third equals 26.66666666 followers. That's like only three point six six six six six six six six more followers! My self esteem and self worth are the upmost importance to me, so get off your selfish ass and make me feel good. Spread the word and become one of my sheep today.

**Late Edit: just hours after posting the above post the number of times that my "Blogger Profile" had been viewed rolled over to 5000. I am woman, hear me roar!

Antiphoto Destalk

No nudity, no soccer moms . . . . pfffft. Promises, promises. Improvements for next year perhaps?

The 2009 Destalk AntiRace, formerly known as the Peter Keiller Appreciation Ride, was fun.

Fun I say. I dare say that it was more fun than I've had on a bike in the past three months.

It was my first ride on my mtn bike (for fear of death and/or injury) since September 1st and I had a big smile on my face for most all of the day (most all except the big ass big hill climb to start the day - fugg me!).

I've got a big photo dump that I will post up on the weekend - stay tunned.

*Late edit - stolen from Petah and MTBR.com

3+ km and 12% grade . WTF! Three months off the bike and face this . . . . weeeeeee hooooooo hoooooooo

More photos here (and if you look REALLY hard you might see me in one).

AntiFinger Destalk Race

I sprained my finger today. It hurt. It sucks to type. I'm not typing a lot this evening.

You need to go here on Saturday. Destalk AnitRace.

I'm hoping for some public display of affection from Peter . . . . not levels of public display of affection that he exhibits towards Dicky, but still enough to make me feel wanted and loved.

That is all, carry on.

Lest We Forget

I can't imagine having to give up my life, my wife and daughter, my family & friends, my job, cycling and the things I enjoy to go off to war. I got to take part in a Remembrance Day ceremony today and had the opportunity to contemplate the sacrifices that others have made.

Fifth, my sore arse, and Curvy

On Sunday I got out for like my fifth ride since the beginning of September. It was an absolutely glorious day with temperatures around 14 degrees. Being a three day weekend for me I managed to juggle the schedule to squeeze in a ride. Freak'in hell man . . . +14 in November and riding a bike . . . I'll take it.

Hairy and scary white thighs.
Note: no chamois cream. 'Funny' how I forget stuff I always do when I am away from riding for a while. My arse didn't think it so 'funny' the next day.

Speaking of squeezing . . . . 207 lbs of manly girth managed to fit into my shorts. Thank Gwad for spandex. Yes, that's right 207 lbs. Fugg me. My riding weight for last year was 186lbs. That's a 21 lb difference. Shite! That being said, and if I don't mind tooting my own horn, most of it is muscle - the kind that makes the ladies gaa-gaa (actually it's all hidden under a nice layer of insulation). Three days a week in the weight room, P90x workouts, and defensive tactics workouts are putting the pounds on me. 21 extra pounds to carry up the hills in the Gats and only four previous rides in the past two plus months . . . . well, needless to say I was suffering.

Leaf-less and brown.

Despite the obvious suffering that I knew was going to take place, it was an absolutely amazingly most awesome'ness ride. So nice to be outside for an extended period of time.
I was joined by Curvy Butt, who has seen as much saddle time as I have this Fall. As we rode the flat stretches we occupied ourselves with creating excuses for getting off our bikes on the climbs in order to rest. Searching for red breasted wobbler hatched hooded southern yellow beaked Coo-coos was reason enough to slow the pace on the climbs.

Curvy Butt at the Champlain look-off, looking curvacious as usual.

This ride was just what I needed. Incredible how much a little saddle time changes your perspective on things and how good it makes you feel. It was good to stretch the legs out to help me get ready for next weeks intergalatic event - the Destalk Antirace - if you please.

Leaves and The Leafs

Three days home this weekend on account of Remembrance Day this coming Wednesday. So nice to be home with the family and my mind off of school and training.

Got caught up with some yard work. All the leaves are down and lots of bags to be filled. Freak'in leaves . . . must be the third time that I've raked the entire back yard.

Didn't get a ride (toady) in but I did get a chance to work on a bike - my little neighbours bike needed some fine tunning.

The Leafs, as opposed to the ones I was raking all morning, haven't been able to help themselves, so I figured me and The Peanut would have to do our part while watching Hockey Night In Canada. The Peanut with her newest Leaf hoodie.

Go Leafs Go!
Seemed to help as we scored the first goal of the game against Detroit (only the second time this season that we opened the scoring in a game). The Peanut would only catch the first period and would have to wait to find out that we won - only the third win of the season and two in a row. Toronto fans everywhere are preparing for the parade. Maybe in her lifetime she'll see Stanley Cup arrive in Toronto . . . I'm not holding my own breath to experience that though.
What can I say, I am a sucker for punishment.

Shoot me (or the blog) now

Some days . . . . some days . . . . some days I feel like pulling the plug, putting a hole through the blogosphere and putting this blog out of it's misery.

Really, what's there to BLOG-ITTY-BLOG about? This is supposed to be a cycling blog, right? Not much cycling going on and won't be for some time. And when I do finally have something bike related to say, do you really want to read about me training in my basement on my trainer for the next four or so months? You could fuck off right now and not return until late March and I might have something worth writing about. Or, I may not.

Meh.

I've made the decision that this year I am not going to be chasing the sponsorship bus around trying to land free shit - even if it's stuff I already use and have used for years - like Crank Bros products, Kenda tires and tubes, Ergon grips, Progold Lubricants and so on. If I'm approached by any company to use their products (and I believe in them and like them) I'll use them. But I'm not seeking out any kind of endorsement love. **Note: any corporation wanting to sponsor an overweight, middle of the pack (at best) hack who rides single speed in Canada . . . . . my e-mail is over there --> Yes, that does sound like an attractive offer - how could you resist?!**

First, it's a lot of work tracking down anyone willing to sponsor you. It's a lot more work trying to convince them that you've got anything to offer them - especially true if you lack skill, talent or any kind of natural ability. Secondly, time - I don't have the time to hit up sponsors. It takes a lot of time contacting and convincing sponsors. I'd much rather be using that time laying around on the couch or making frequent trips to the fridge.

I will be keeping the Misfit placard over there ----- --> for next season. I've got a contractual obligation to represent Misfit Psycles (apparently they own part of my soul or something ?!?) and the suits are unwilling to take their pointy claws out of my over weight carcass until they have somehow retrieved their financial investment for providing me with the bestest pink bike on the planet that I get to squeeze between my sweaty, hariy thighs. A nice thought to leave you with . . . my hairy, sweaty thighs.

What weekends have become

Feeding the Peanut last weekend mashed up bananas and blueberries . . . Mmmmmm, yummy.

Being away from home, sometimes for two weeks at a time, has put things into perspective for me. I miss my bikes dearly, but I miss my Peanut and wifey more.

Next season, preparation (training) and racing won't be without it's challenges . . . the obvious and usual challenges: losing weight, not eating so much, fitting into my bib shorts, not overeating after a hard ride/race, cutting back on eating outside of meal times, trying to get out the habit of getting up at 3am to eat, etc. New challenges: juggling time between family, work and riding.

How does that saying go? If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

Cheesy as it may seem, but it's true.

*Perhaps the relevance of the above map is lost on you . . . . Remembrance Day is approaching - get your poppy. *

With time and commitment restraints I'll be looking to get the most of all my training rides. This upcoming season will be new, it will be different and I look forward to the challenge. All of this means smarter training. Means a plan.

Now, that being said, I'm not the smrtest guy in the thingy . . . . but I knows fun when I sees it and riding has gots to be fun regardless of training or no training.

But then again, why train when apparently winning is for losers and losing is the new pink, which replaced brown which previously was the new black, which originally replaced blacker.

So here's to losing. Here's to coming in second in a three bike race. Here's to finishing mid pack and totally meeting and exceeding all expectations that my glorious sponsor has placed upon me in order to gather some sort of fiscal return on his original and silly investment which I place between my sweaty, hairy thighs everytime I go for a ride.

Know where I can get a copy of a good training bible?

Get your ride on

One of my two most favourite times of the year in the Gats.

I poached this last week off Joanne Holden's site (without permission I might add - I don't have her e-mail - sorry Joanne if you're reading). You many have visited before, Musicians On Skis. It's a pictorial blog, so no heavy reading - perfect for cixelsyd illiterates likes me.

She takes a mean photograph, and most deal with nature and outdoor activities that take place in Gatineau Park. She's also a great source of info during the xc ski season with trail conditions.

If I am lucky, I may get one to two more road rides in this year in the Gats without having to look over my shoulder for traffic - just the odd ride blowing by me.

Most of you . . .

. . . . were right. And no surprise if you put two and two together.


If you're ever given the opportunity to particiapte freely in a pepper spray deomonstration, take my advice and turn it down. In fact run away.


If you're on the bitter side of John Law (take note future drunken participants of the upcoming Destalk AntiRace) who is feeling a little trigger happy with the extent and reach of his judicial powers and slightly trigger happy on his issued can of OC spray . . . run away and don't look back.


I can honestly say, and in my humble opinion, from the stand point of someone who has had numerous painful injuries, lacterations, concussions, rectal exams (wooo weeee you've got long fingers doc!), broken bones, pulled & strained muscles and legaments, a few surgeries, broken hearts and hurt egos . . . to date, being sprayed is in my top five most painful and uncomfortable experiences I have ever had.


Think: liquid thorns in combination with the worse sunburn you've ever had mulitplied by ten and throw in a good dousing of battery acid to top it all off . . . mix it all up in an areosol cannister, shake and have someone apply liberal amounts across your eyes (from ear to ear) at seven feet away. Good times, good times indeed.


Took me three hours to get my eyes in a somewhat open manner. The intensity of the spray causes something called acute hyperventalation syndrome - in other words it takes your breath away without even having to breath it in (more of a psychological occurance due to the extreme pain it causes). My eyes were swollen, bloodshot and sore for two days.

It was more painful than watching this famous interview.

My eyes! They burn!

Captions this:

Destalk AntiRace

Misfit Psycles Destalk AntiRace . . . .personally I prefer The Peter Keiller Appreciation Day Race.

I really do appreciate Peter Keiller - so much so I double checked the spelling of his last name before publishing this.

I know that if I don't attend this event feelings will be hurt. The Empire is a sensitive organizational power built on low self-esteem and the need to be recognized, acknowledged and loved by all.

Personally, I know that the only reason my attendance is requested is Peter wants a quazi police presence and someone with more legal knowledge (especially those offences dealing with public drunken'ness) than the average bear to help bail out Misfit members from the local drunk tank and rescuing dirty, mtn bike dirt bags from the clutches of John Law. Let it be known, I have as much knowledge and authority as a chocolate cop - no use of force options will be present . . . just my sheer sexiness.

My free time has been at a premium the past couple of months, and will continue to be so until the beginning of December. Since June of 2000, cycling has never taken a back seat to much of anything (ask my wife!). Alas, visions of sugar-plums dancing in my head and dreams of cracking down on traffic violators have influenced me to chase my goal. Thus my absence from the cycling blog-o-sphere and single track as of late.

This Vs. her . . . .

Time spent with a bunch of dirty, drunken mtn bikers or my little Peanut . . . . not a tough decision.

HOWEVER . . . .

In a death-de-fying feat of multitasking management skills, I have attempted to schedule (that's with a strong "schhhh" sound at the front) this AntiRace. With family somewhat in the neighbourhood of this galactic event, I should be able to swing taking part in most, if not all, of this schwin-dig. Be it known, I have a 39 hour pass from full immersion in becoming the next Sheriff Lobo and I hope the Empire appreciate my presence (90% certain - I still have to check with my wife!) - so much that I may even receive a little sumthang sumthang for my efforts - like a new sticker for my down tube.

And with the promise of soccer moms in attendance, how could I say "No!" ?

No Apologies

Seems my poetry the other day made a few of you uncomfortable. Can't understand why. I had more complaints (I didn't publish a few of them - some of them were pretty lame) in the comments section and even an e-mail about some touchy feely poetry . . . . more complaints then when I take my clothes off for 'naked reviews'. Go figure. Guess you all are a little freaky like that.

Alas, my somber rhetoric and meloncholy poem (not to be confused with my melon calling) 'twas only an outlet for my longing to ride my bicyclette. That is all. That is it. I'm glad it made your testes shrink into your body (unless of course you are a woman . . . ) in uncomfortable'ness - like watching a guy kick hoofed in the cubes. "Oooooooo, that gots to hurt."

Personally, I thought it was damn creative. Wish I had skills (even skillz with a Z) in my creative writing English class back in my university days . . . . you didn't think my creative writing flowed naturally did you?

Anywho . . . my poetic style made me think of happier fall days . . . last October for instance . . .

miles of smiles

blew off work one Friday to go riding all by my lonesome

one of my first prize give aways happened this time last year - lucky winners received autograped photos of me - LUCKY!

caressed and ate some bacon

got my segway license

and rode my bike

**a prize to the first person who can tell me the rhyming pattern or poetic device [or modified poetic device - hint, hint] that I used in my awesome poem the other day**

stuck inside all day

studying and learning

thinking about my bike

it's hard to breath

trapped between four concrete walls

sun and clear skies lost

books, paper, academics

before me I stare blankly

distracted by thoughts

my mind goes to trails

familiar and favourite

ridden many times

etched into my brain

to be ridden anytime

so effortlessly

my riding legs gone

but still crave to be on trail

this is but temporary

Fall will soon be gone

memories of single track

out of reach for me

12 Hrs in Photos

If you have a moment to spare from eating, sleeping, working, riding, picking your nose, wiping your butt, shopping on the interweb, and otherwise busy life, check out this blog: 12hrs in Photos.

My good friend Jerome set this up a while back, and I missed out on the first installment. Unfortunately, I'll be missing out on this one as well - waaaaaaaay too busy to take any photos . . . . and if I did, they'd be all of the same thing as I study for mid-terms. Being slightly illiterate and lazy, I don't like to read text rich blogs as I have the attention span of a retarded gnat. Photos are easy to look at, are interesting and take no effort on my part to register in one of my brain-ial lobes that I carry upon my shoulders.

While not specifically a bike related blog, by the nature of the folks that Jerome knows, you'll find lots of photos related to the cycling world. If you're interested in being apart of the project, check out Jerome's blog (linky above) to get in touch.

Check back often over the next week or so as folks upload their photos.

Halloween Fixed Frolic

Damn it. I'm missing all the fun.

Cram

Up to my armpits in studying. Midterms next week.

Fugg.

Something is missing

Something is missing this year . . . . besides my lack of riding. Around this time last year, Lenny (aka fatass Dr. Phil) helped me put on the O.P.R.A.H. Turkey Time Trial. Fun event, tooken place out in the South March Highlands in Kanata.

Unfortunately, due to my life altering change of plans, it didn't happen this year. It would have been a fun event this weekend to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving (yes, my American friends, we too have Thanksgiving sans Pilgrims).

I am promising to have this event running again next year. It was for free and for fun, for shits and giggles. I don't recall the last time I got any fun for free and any giggles with my shits. I can't wait til next year to do both at the same time.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Fyi . . . pumpkin pie is my most favourite of the pies. If anyone wants to send me one I'd be more than happy to receive. I ate it for breakfast this morning too.

Suffering from lack of regularity

I ran yesterday, not far, just a wee bit over 6km in a fun run to help raise funds for MS. My knees, surprisingly enough, did not break or bend after the fourth km. I haven't run 6 km in just about ten years - seriously. Why the fuck would I want to run?!?! Why run anywhere when you can ride? When I run my teeth feel like they are going to fall out, it hurts my legs, it's boring, and it's slow (yes, I am a slow runner). Despite being a bit of a boat anchor when it comes to running, I managed to keep a steady pace and finished in just under a scorching 34 minutes.

The event was for a good cause AND we were forced to run it. Meh. In the event there were numerous people walking, running, rollerblading and biking. Lots of kids on big heavy Walmart and Canadian Tire bikes . . . created some jealousy in me and made me miss my bikes.

Thinking about my bike while I ran, I tried to come up with something to jot down for the blog-o-sphere. Nadda. Zipp. Zero. Poop. I've got no flow, no creativity to blog about much, nothing bike related, let alone time to do it. No pictures to upload, no stories or races to tell. No products to report on. No nothing. I feel as if my humor (or lack thereof) and ability to string together a few words into something somewhat comprehensible and entertaining is missing. I feel as far away from the biking world as you can imagine.

Alas, this too shall pass and I'll be back to regularity in a couple of months or so. Thanks for coming back to check on the blog - hopefully I'll get something worthy of coming back for in the next day or two. Cheers.

Somekind of wonderful

A few weeks ago I was contacted by the fine folks at POM Wonderful to try out their pomegranate juice. I had tried it a couple of years ago and remembered that it was good, real good. But I don't think that I was aware of all the health benefits: cardio vascular, prostate health, antioxidant superpowers, and erectile function (hoo-haa). They even have a blog.

It's a tasty juice and immediately upon drinking only a half a bottle I felt that I had super human powers.

The fine folks of Pom Wonderful sent me some coupons. And being the good guy I am and liking to give things away via my blog, here's a little contest for you.

First two folks who e-mail me (address is over there under my profile info ----->) or comment on the blog (with their info attached) win a coupon for a free bottle (which, by the way, retails for like $4.99 Cdn $ - coupon is also valid in the US of A).

Here's what you have to tell me:

- click on the Misfits Psycle store link (over there ------>) and find three different items that Peter sells.

Simple.

Pimple.

Dimple.