On Not Suffering

Suffering was very en vogue when I first got back into cycling. Which fit me well since it was an aspect of what I’d been experiencing as I played at being someone who climbed mountains. These days however, the S word isn't bandied about as much as it once was. You hear it on a... Continue Reading →

Change in Attitude

The predictable happened last night. Well at least as I had predicted, though I had hopped for it to be different. Hope, as we know is not enough. So last night, while I earned to stay with the peloton in the brutal curvy head wind section I lost contact. I was slowed by the wind,... Continue Reading →


I didn’t mean to attack. No wait that’s wrong. I did mean to attack. It would be more appropriate to say that I hadn’t planned on attacking.  But on the first hill of the last lap I found myself moving toward the front as the guys at the front let off the pace. The contents... Continue Reading →

A Movement Toward Suffering.

Bill Strickland's monthly column brought up some interesting issues in regards to the roll suffering plays for us amateurs. He followed that up in his weekly column explaining why he reacted the way he did to his friend's reprimand. After reading the print column a reader asked Mr. Strickland Why it mattered so much to him.... Continue Reading →

Head Down and Hold on Tight.

Last week's festivities found the Lady in Seattle with family while I stayed in Portland to put in a full day of overtime pay at my wonderful, yet low paying job. I spent Thanksgiving with some new friends. That was great, but I still found myself with plenty of time on my hands. As I... Continue Reading →

Directionless and Drifting.

Not a whole lot has been going on these pages. Last week was the first time I neglected to post anything. I just couldn't find anything to write about. I was writing, just not here, or anywhere really. I haven't lost the drive to keep up this blog, I'm just not sure what to write... Continue Reading →

Summits are Funny Things.

Out of danger I thought about the boys I’d dreamed about. I wondered how I could miss them so much, but still be so lame about calling their mother and arrange a time for me to see them. While things had ended between us, they hadn’t really ended badly and we were on good terms.... Continue Reading →

At My Most Beautiful

True story: I once tried to kill myself. I didn't fail because someone found me with a bottle of pills in my stomach, or because I didn't bleed out fast enough. No, it failed because I changed my mind. That night I left the house as my girlfriend at the time went out to go... Continue Reading →

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