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Entries from February 3, 2008 - February 9, 2008

Treading water

You notice my lack of updates?? I guess I am going to have to issue a standing apology as it's been psychotic these days....or rather I've been psychotic these days. I'm not going to piss and moan in this space as I hear from you my friends that M & C is for your I try to keep it light and make sure you leave here with a smile. So let's try and balance some piss and some moans while keeping it light, shall we? I needs me to vent, and I needs you to laugh. I'll break it down this way:

  • Re-entry from Za Trip was....and still is....nothing short of insane. I come home and it's as if the conspire-ers at work had it all queued up for me. "Ah, Greg, you're back from you wittle boys bikey ride. Hope you enjoyed it. Cause that's the last you'll see of your bike...oh! and your family for, hmm, the next 3 months." Followed by a boo-wah-ha-ha-ha-ish evil cartoon character laugh. The onslaught of workload was slid across the proverbial table to me and the writing is indelibly on the wall: Get on it or get the f-bomb out of the way.
  • We got a dog. And we get this creature like 2 days after I get back from Za Trip and have the aforementioned work implosion. I love animals, dogs in particular, but we've just essentially adopted our third kid. She is a crapping machine who is teething and likes to chew everything, including our cat. Oh yes, we have a cat. Oh, and a 5 and 3 year old boy. Circus is the adjective for our house these days.
  • I'm old. I can't tell if I've been going so hard for so many months that my body has collapsed or if I suddenly am feeling ancient. Shit, I am getting back pains, kidney pains, toe pains....I told my wife last night I thought I was having a heart attack because my chest felt like some linebacker punched me dead on right in the middle of my sternum. I told her to donate my bikes to charity should I shit the bed in my sleep.
So all this adds up to one thing. I am a galactically large wussy who's head needs to be examined as it absolutely positively feels like I am milliseconds away from this:

So if you see me show up to cross next season 46 pounds overweight with a crazy look in my eye, it's likely because I need to ramp up the alcohol consumption and meds to keep me on the trajectory I am required to be on these days. Just humor me and help me pretend that I am still young and sort of fast.

So during the pinnacle yesterday's work mele, my wife brings in the mail and hands me my pile. I need to take a break before I put my fist through my new Lenovo StinkPad (Work stress + Windows Vista constantly blowing up = sphincter quivering drama) and I see that my ProCycling mag for the month is here. I flip through it quickly while taking an 'I'm on the can so you can't bother me' break (my only solace) and get the biggest shit eating grin:

I wrote this letter to the editor a couple of weeks ago about their exceptional 'cross coverage. Truly, I expected nothing...and in fact heard nothing....but saw that I wn their Letter of the month. Friggin RAD! Ha! So I guess the Universe is not all conspiring to get me.

So there you have it folks. Will you still hang on and read my dribble? Can you hang with me while I get my proverbial poop in order in my semi-charmed life these days? You know what. Don't answer that...

'Cross on.


Mmm. Trees. I am turning that corner from racing to remember that I love to just...ride. This was an extremely confusing, stressful, anxiety filled week. Sitting underneath that swirl is this a deflation that I guess must be like a 'now what' sort of void. All that pent up 'get 'er done' emotion blown out in the Motherland what. The re-entry into real life's atmosphere has been difficult but a Chimay and an unbelievable conversation with my wife last night sort of rattled my mental cage back into some sense of reality. I don't expect anyone reading this to understand this hollowness, 'cause I don't think I get it at the moment, but maybe...

I took a bit of the edge off today. Two wheeled methadone to treat t he shadows in the brain and reminisce with the trees to make 1 + 1 = 3. Or maybe 1 x 1 equaling 3. It was yum. Crisp air, trees, silent single track and 5 minutes from my house. I hit Heil today and communed with my 1 x 1 and grooved in and out of the trees, up and over the baby heads, through the snow packed elevation, past the fir trees all who seemed to smile and give me a whisper of whatup. I said whatup back. Out loud. No one was around so that doesn't make me crazy as far as I know.

I need more of it. A little more mental furniture rearrangement and a bit more singeltrack. Travel this week so the mind is going to get all crazy like trying to cope with the machine guns and the anxiety. I'll run my haunts and let the endorphiones anesthetize me.

I'll start to write some good stuff soon. I gotta straighten out first my friends.