What did we do today? What was it like?

Route 66 time trial, which is the absurd cycling spectacle of hundreds of cyclists squeezed into condom-tight lyca bringing the most expensive, more unfun bikes lining up before a tribunal where a jig even the officials don’t know how to operate decide whether you can enjoy a calm warm-up through the shattered bud light cans strewn on the frontage road or spend the last thirty minutes before your time trial start frantically cutting off your mechanical shifters with a steak knife because you’re too poor to afford electronic shifting.

How did I do?




Quote of the day

“Yield to Tonnage”

~James Hilyer, calming backing our 15-foot trail through a small gap between opposing team cargo vans while somehow not running over any cyclists warming up for the TT or jackknifing the trailer into another team’s tent.

“Dada stole your AirPods, Mamma. I saw it! He had it on, but then he took it off and hid it!”

~Lars, my 3-year-old, on the daily Facetime, accusing me of theft. 

What I hated about today

Our Airbnb is passable, new even. Sure, the owner forgot to stock it with a coffee maker, broom, vacuum, and decent knives, but at least they have a toaster. 

Oh wait, they don’t have a toaster.

Toasters cost $20. Toasters make life better. Without a toaster, if you want to toast things, you have to use the broil function in the oven. When you broil things, the oven heats to 500F, and it’s impossible to get the timing right. Take the toast out too fast; well, it’s not toast, it’s not bread, it’s something in between no one should bother eating. Leave it in too long; well, it’s not toast, it’s not bread, it’s charcoal. 

So far this week, we’ve spent about $1000 on food and have purchased a Mr. Coffee maker, a broom, a strainer, a gigantic pot, among other things, but when I suggested a toaster?

“No, we don’t have a team budget for that.”


Mediocre power reveal/inner race commentary

If there were a competition for the cyclist for how much less power they could put out on a TT bike compared to their road bike yet somehow still possess the aerodynamic characteristics of a school bus, I wouldn’t just be a champion, I’d be the greatest of all time. Netflix could make a limited premium series about me called ‘The Last Parachute.’

To illustrate this, let’s compare my ride to my teammate, who I’ve overheard saying, “I can put out more power in the TT position than I can on the road bike.” We’re similar riders: we’re both thicc, we both couldn’t sprint to save our lives, and in another life, we’d be running our own construction company in New Mexico and be competitive, but not dominant, in our local bowling league.

Anyway, here are our stats overlayed:


No, your eyes aren’t bad; homeboy put out 100 more watts than I for the same duration. That means he could have ridden the course at the same speed as me and used the remaining 100 watts to power a toaster our team refuses to buy.

What I loved about today

Somehow James manages to regularly pass out midday in the middle of the living room with Formula 1 Drive to Survive playing.  Some people are built different.

Oh, and obviously I loved this also:

the Weekly grav'

Say no to slow!

Reader questions, stories, and guaranteed laughs every Thursday.