Strava

It seems as if Strava is taking amateur cycling by storm. I mean, we, as cyclists, have long been apt to wave our dicks at one another in the form of posting our times up various climbs and so forth. Now, thanks to Strava and GPS, every ride is a race, or rather a series of races limited only by the number of Strava segments into which your route has been subdivided.

But in order to engage in this virtual dick waving, one must "follow" other riders--to complete the analogy--whose virtual dicks one would be interested in seeing waved about. As participation has grown, some people new people have decided to follow me. Many of these people I don't know, which is surprising, since I am decidedly not a big deal. But some of these people are my friends, so I thought I would follow them in return.*

*An act of masochism, as seeing how fast they are will certainly only add to the guilt I feel when a piece of pasta or a morsel of sugar or god forbid a bottle of beer passes over my lips since I know these things, while delicious, will not contribute to my fastness.

Strava, however, has incorporated privacy features that make it so members can require approval for another member to follow them. To which I say: get over yourselves. If you have a training ride or even a not training ride that you don't want other people to see, don't post it.

Corbet's

It used to be cool if you had the sack to drop in to Corbet's--just hit it straight up. Check out this video, because clearly that's not good enough anymore. These guys are skiers. I'm not sure what to call myself, but I'm not a skier. At least not in comparison.

Abstinence only

The Utah legislature passed, among other (whacky) things, a bill defining sex education as abstinence-only. Clearly, abstinence only sex education works, because abstinence only states have the lowest rates of teen pregnancy. This is because teens who have been taught that abstinence is the best method of birth control would never consider having sex outside of marriage.

Abstinence only states have the highest rates of teen pregnancy. Because guess what: people have sex. Not just adult married people, but adolescent people who, although perhaps not mature enough to successfully care for a child, are physically mature enough to bear one.

The irony here is that those of us who will teach our kids the realities of sex and how to protect themselves from unwanted pregnancy and disease, including the fact that the only certain protection is abstinence, aren't the ones who are concerned about having our children receive this instruction in schools. We already talk to our kids about the realities of sex and make sure they understand the risks and consequences of sexual activity.

The kids I'm more concerned about are those that receive no sex education at all other than abstinence (and perhaps the occasional Sunday school lesson in which someone licks the frosting off a cupcake). Because when these kids find themselves in a situation where their partner says something ridiculous such as that floating is OK, they won't know better. And I'd rather see these kids stop by Planned Parenthood before than after.

God Bless America

Hat tip to Stevil Kinevil (via Elden) for pointing me to this trailer. I have not been this excited for a movie in a while.

We're going to need a bigger boat

The chatter amongst skiers and non-skiers alike this winter has been all about the lack of snowfall. Well, it finally snowed. And as Dug said, there was much rejoicing. For the most part at least.

For the past three and a half winters, every time it has snowed more than half a foot, I have cursed my snowblower for not being up to the task. Sunday night as it bogged down in the wet snowplow debris was no different.

Until it died, that is. Then I wanted it back at least long enough to finish the job. Turns out, I blew up the gearbox. Cost of repair was more than the machine was worth, so it went to the place consumer-grade snowblowers go to die. I just got a new, commercial-grade snowblower delivered today. Bring on the snow.

Observations

Super Bowl: I thought for sure Gronkowski was going to scoop up the tipped Hail Mary pass to give the Pats the win. Six inches out of position. How many cases of a couple inches this way or that led to this result? The Ravens missed field goal in the AFC championship game, the 49er's punt returner brushing the ball with his knee, Mario Manningham's catch on what turned out to be the game winning drive. The list goes on. A game of inches.

Here's what I know from watching Eli Manning: the dude is cool under pressure. I guess he's used to it. Archie's son, Peyton's kid brother. If he didn't get used to pressure early on, he never would have made it. As good as Peyton, Aaron Rodgers, and Tom Brady are, I don't think there's anyone I'd rather have throwing the ball with the game on the line than Eli*.

*Unless Jesus is helping Tim Tebow, then Tim gets the rock.

Lance: Investigation dropped. Meh. Couldn't make anything stick because the statute of limitations had expired. I think that's why we have the statute of limitations. Do I think he cheated? Of course. At this point does it really matter? Not much.

Contador: Two year ban handed down two years after the fact. Perhaps this would have been appropriate two years ago. But a full sanction at this point is a little absurd, especially given the minimal amount of clenbuterol in his system. His results from 2010 and 2011 are relegated, but at least he's eligible to compete in August of this year. Had CAS started the clock ticking on the ban now, it would have been more of a kangaroo court than it has been already.

I'm glad to see that cycling is at least acting like it takes doping seriously. I was going to say I would hate to live in a society that had a police force as draconian as the WADA, but then I thought about the Patriot act, border fences, billions of dollars and thousands of lives lost in retaliation for one tragedy, full body imaging at the airport, and the fact that I can't even carry a bottle of water onto a plane. Killing flies with cannons.

Injury vs. illness

Injury sucks because one can't do what one wants to do usually because one injured one's self doing what one wanted to do and therefore the injury prevents one from doing said wanted thing. Injury tends to last a long time, but utter misery can be avoided by avoiding use of the injured part.

Illness sucks because one can't do what one wants to do because one's whole body feels like it was taped to the inside of one of those gigantic industrial rolling doors and then the door was opened. Turns out, such general malaise not only affects one's physical ability to engage in an otherwise enjoyable activity, but the will to actually raise one's self from whatever horizontal surface one finds one's self on is also crushed like the figurative body in the industrial door analogy.

The title of this blog contains "junkie," because I and my cohorts are addicts. On Friday the question is never "are you going to do something this weekend," but rather "what are your plans this weekend?" Putting a planned outing on the shelf due to injury or illness is like taking the cigarettes from a smoker who has no interest in quitting.

The demands of my profession have lately become such that I plan everything I do a year in advance. Professionally, my product plans always include some management reserve to account for time consumed by unanticipated demands. Similarly, my training plan for this season also included a week of reserve for injury or illness. My training plan* began this week. My reserve is already nearly exhausted.

*For the upcoming cycling season. Skiing has officially been written off.