Weird Dream

Last night I had a dream that I was at Altoona already. It must have been Sunday . . . I was wearing some type of leader's jersey but I don't think it was for the overall. George Hincapie high-fived me. He must have crashed out of the Tour and taken a direct flight back over to the US just to watch me race. I talked to Adam Myerson (who, incidentally, is the lanterne rouge after Stage 1, the TTT) and he seemed to need to borrow one of my wheels. Then he asked me if I had a coach and, when I responded in the negative, he said, "We should talk about that." For some reason I thought I was supposed to be racing in the P/1/2 race . . . maybe because upgrading to Cat2 has been on my mind lately . . . but in the preparations, I missed 1) making any Cytomax for the race and 2) the start of the Cat3 race. I was reduced to tears, as I recall.

Dreams are weird, man.

Politically Un-Correct

I don't like fatties.

Every morning, I eat a bagel and cream cheese with a glass of orange juice for breakfast. I ran out of orange juice and forget to go to the store to get more. So this morning I stopped at Dunkin Donuts on my way to work to get a cinnamon raisin bagel, toasted, with cream cheese and an orange juice.

After I ordered, the very large gentleman behind me placed his order:

A large coffee with two sugars and two creams.
Two everything bagels, toasted, with cream cheese.
A chocolate glazed.
A Boston cream.

You could give him the benefit of the doubt and suggest he was buying for his coworkers, too. Or maybe that was his breakfast and lunch (though, if that's the case . . . ewww!). I considered it unlikely. His order could have nearly fed me for the entire day. The obesity epidemic in the USA (and, increasingly, the rest of the Western world) is alarming and, frankly, pisses me off. Americans' inability to maintain their health results in overcrowding of clinics, overworking of staff, increasing insurance premiums, etc. and that all ends up costing ME money.

As these fat jackasses rumble past us on the road in their ExcessUVs, honking, yelling, making obscene gestures, I bet they little realize their plight. I suppose maybe deep down, they're jealous that we have the motivation to ride. Or maybe not.

Yep, I'm an asshole. So sue me.

P.S. Mark has an interesting post about body weight and body image. He's one insightful guy.

What a Dick

I have a lot of love for our neighbors to the north. One of my best college friends is from Toronto. I was practically born in Canada. I used to play the game invented by Canadians (not curling). I enjoyed those nether years when crossing an arbitrary line made me responsible enough to consume alcoholic beverages within the letter of the law. When I worry about American rights and freedoms being eroded, Canada is usually tops on the list of countries in which I'd happily take up residence and citizenship. Despite all this, I see Dick Pound the way the rest of the world must see George W. Bush. The guy is a lunatic.

His mouth has got to be a perpetual motion machine as he's running it all the time. We've all got our opinions on the Landis T:E ratio result. And we're all entitled to an informed opinion on that or any subject. But when you're the head of a worldwide organization tasked with keeping sporting legitimate, you really need to limit your facetious hyperbole to discussions over beers amongst friends in the pub.

From Cyclingnews:

"He was 11 minutes behind or something, and all of the sudden there's this Herculean effort, where he's going up mountains like he's on a goddamn Harley," Pound told journalist Michael Sokolove. "It's a great story. Wonderful. But if it seems too good to be true, it probably is."

And he follows it up with this gem, also from Cyclingnews:

"You'd think he'd be violating every virgin within 100 miles. How does he even get on his bicycle?"

Holy Hell, Dick! Did you not realize you were talking to a reporter? Well after that brouhaha back in early January, it seems those close to DP of the more sane variety talked some sense into him, or at least found some sort of magically invisible muzzle. Mais au contraire, mon frère! He's found some way to weasel out of his magically invisible muzzle and fire up that perpetual motion machine again, this time at the expense of Armstrong.

Again, from Cyclingnews:

"These are documents. This is an accredited laboratory that found EPO in [Armstrong's] urine from 1999 and it's been matched with forms you signed so if the analysis is right and the forms aren't forgeries you may have something to explain," said Pound. "He [Armstrong] has done nothing about the L'Equipe article and has done nothing except complain about me for some unknown reason. I've said those are the facts."

If I'm not mistaken, Armstrong was cleared of those '99 Tour samples. In addition, is it every rider's responsibility to respond to each and every accusation thrown about by sensationalist papers? When a finance columnist suggests a company is a takeover target and rumors get reported that so-and-so is in merger talks with the "takeover target," are there comments from either company? Generally, no.

One might wonder how Dick is still walking around given the number of times he seems to have shot himself in the foot. The guy must not realize that he is tossing any and all credibility of WADA out the window with every time he opens his mouth. Or maybe, just maybe, that's what he's actually trying to do? There's your conspiracy theory, do with it what you will. Personally, I think the guy should be put on Abilify (an anti-psychotic you can apparently get from your GP -- ask Craig).

How about that? A cycling-related post!