Yeah the title sums up how I feel right about now, my brain has been fried, and I stumbling along in a daze, call it my 99 problems if you will. Can ya blame me though, still riding high about my Chicago trip, and with college basketball on last night, what better reason to head out to somewhere on the town for a drink or twelve. Let's not forget I'm in the middle of my most serious training plan and pre-race workouts in my life, meaning recovery booze is quite mandatory. Think what you may, but lets face it there is only one way to train for the wonderful world of mountain bike race, ride hard, eat lots, wash everything down with some cheap hooch, then top it all off with a mouthful of tums at bedtime so everything works together to result in out of this world leg strength.
It's a simple equation: the sum of hours ridden plus calories of food consumed multiplied by drinks consumed raised to the power of number of mouthfuls of tums eaten equals total wattage output. For example if yesterday I rode 2.5 hours, ate about 2500 calories, drank six beers and a glass of whiskey, then had a mouthful of tums, means I will be able to put out about 17,000 watts out on the bike today. Convoluted? Yes. True? You better believe it. Try it out for size, then write me a thank you e-mail, feel free to send my blank checks as a sign of your gratitude as well.
Thoughts from last evening include: Syracuse crapped the bed, cause apparently they think that double digit turnovers equals a win. West Virginia won, but couldn't make a layup to save their life, they better fix that if they plan to go any further (and make me not look like a jackass for picking them to win it all). The Little Red Engine that No Longer Could (i.e. Cornell) did what was expected, they got beat by a better team. Good for Cornell to get some other press other than being the alma matter of the fourth funniest character on The Office, now go back to being the academic dregs of the Ivy League. Xavier had me loving them, bombing threes to keep their chances alive, plus their mascot is a Musketeer (not sure if its based on the candy bar or an actual Musketeer). Yeah they lost, but it takes balls the size of watermelons to put those shots up. As for tonight, I hope Duke loses, because only people who went to Duke actually like Duke. I'll jump on the Tennessee bandwagon cause they offered to have my grad school baby. Saint Mary's and Northern Iowa better show up, or I won't believe in "underdogs" again.
As for things actually associated to bikes, the dirt rides are beginning here in The Garden City. Got some trails clear for riding, which is good, skinny tires makes me a go crazy. General rule of thumb for bike tires (and jeans for that matter), the skinnier they are, the suckier they are. With that said, skinny tires will be used this weekend for Speedwagon. I'm excited for some good times, even better chili, and the possibility of getting lucky at the Grey Wolf on the way home. Some Mules look to be getting to town later this evening, resulting in some good times I'm sure.
Continuing on the Mule Front, if you haven't already heard, Cory Hardy has been winning beauty contests in Thailand, which makes me wonder just how ugly the people in Thailand really are (or if Cory has finally decided to not talk). No longer does he rock the burly chops and four dollar gas station sunglasses, instead replacing them with a clean shaven look, and some sort of dress looking piece of clothing. Word is that Cory will be returning home to Montana soon, meaning that all college parties in the greater Bozeman area will no longer be safe from his presence.
Pulled that little dandy you see above from Mr. Dicky's site, where he is rambling on and on about his "new jerseys". Guess what Dicky, you are right about New Jersey having sluts, just like every other state in the union (maybe not Utah, although I'm sure in MormanLand the criteria to be considered a slut is wide and varied). Even though I haven't called NJ "home" for about 8 years now, I still get quite defensive when people make fun of it. Despite Dicky's bashing on the great state where I was raised (and where I got my MTB start), I got no hard feelings towards him for a few reasons. 1.) The mustache I had earlier this month was much more badass than his mustache 2.) He sounds exactly like my cousin Matthew, and 3.) I'm pretty sure I drank a bunch of his beer at SSWC08. So yeah, New Jersey's got sluts, but hey at least it takes a freshly waxed Camero (IROC-Z of course), to take em back to the sac. And with that last gem of a thought, I'm gonna call it a weekend. I will try to remember to take a camera up to the Speedwagon, but I make no guarantees. Happy weekend.