I rarely if ever comment on pro cycling, but Rahsaan Bahati (sp?) being relegated to Rock Racing's "Club Team" next year is weak. He can't defend his Crit Nationals win and he's just a psychotic crit racer. The jerseys they busted out for Road Nationals were really cool, though.
My New Year's resolution this year is to get So Faux Pro back in the game. A tactic of my ploy has already been executed, that being to start the first paragraph with "I" and the subsequent paragraph with "my." One of the more deplorable ways to structure your writing to be sure, but hey, you've got to bring out the big guns when you're fighting the good fight. Another tactic is to post everything that has anything to do with power, as I will soon rejoin the ranks of the power obsessed. Of course I will not spare the salvo of exposing all of the middle aged ennui and angst that goes along with racing in the amateur ranks. I promise to be positively Kirkegaard-ian in this regard. Team drama, wheel sucking, defensive riding, the whole nut. Has there ever been a more depressing, self-absorbed wank than that guy? Stay tuned.
I want a keyboard that has an umlaut key. Also, I never again wish to type the letter "s" twice in succession, as the German symbol that looks like a capital "B" performs this function with far greater aplomb. Did you also notice that I snuck the "I" into the start of the third paragraph? I'm a cagey bastard, I tell you.
Last time, I was a bit coy with my post about wouldn't it be great to have some better racing later in the season. The plans for the Lost River Classic are progressing with great gusto. There is also a nascent plan to string some of the more notable midsummer races into a communally scored series, offering great incentive for people to not completely lose the beat after Reston. If we go through all of this crap and no one shows to the race, though, we might have a new sport in the spirit of nordic biathlon, only on bikes. And the riders are getting shot at. Capisce?
To get back on terms with my friends the Danes, I really love your butter cookies. I wish a tin of them the size of the USS Arizona didn't show up in my office every December. Clearly the reason I am not yet a Cat 1. But if you want to read a really good and wildly depressing book, please see Knut Hamsun's Hunger. He's Norwegian, not Danish. I like the Norwegian flag better. Anyway, this one's a real wrist slasher. An old girlfriend of mine who thought my disposition too sunny (she was also Norwegian) made me read it.