Last week I checked my training workouts and saw that Teresa was seemingly intent on turning my taint into a giant callus on which I could strike matches by scheduling me four bike workouts: one tempo/strength ride, a recovery ride, a 3 hour interval workout, and the 7 Hills of Kirkland metric century ride on Memorial Day. She emailed me and asked if I was doing the ride. I responded with a “Maybe…who else is doing it?” Teresa directed me to our Yahoo! group forum so I could coordinate with some teammates and have someone to ride with. I, of course, was too lazy to do that so I ended...

There are pros and cons to riding indoors vs. riding outside. On the one hand, when you’re riding outside you get to experience terrain change and adjust accordingly — you can work hard to climb hills, coast on descents to give your legs a break, etc. You also don’t have to worry about creating a lake of sweat underneath you when you’re moving along an actual bike route, and your place won’t smell like wet feet and buttcrack when you’re done with your ride. Riding indoors, however, gives you some nice luxuries — you don’t necessarily have to get up super...

Warning: This post has more obscenities than usual, as well as several lovely photos of some pretty gnarly road rash. Reader discretion is advised! Yesterday Jason and I begrudgingly drove up to Lake Stevens to ride the 70.3 bike course a few times with our teammates. We have no intention of doing the Lake Stevens 70.3 since it’s too close to Ironman Canada and because I hate the race with the fire of 1,000 suns, but it was our group workout for the week and we needed to get in the mileage. Well, to summarize how the day went, we had the usual redneck obscenities screamed at us and had to cut...

A couple weekends ago, Jason, his dad and I drove to Wenatchee to do a long ride through the hot and formidable canyons. We only managed to do about 50-60 before succumbing to the suckiness that is triple-digit heat waves. You suck, Wenatchee. Shove your applets and cotlets up your searingly hot ass. We parked at a lot near a 76 station and assembled all of our riding stuff. In the five minutes it took for me to get slathered up with sunscreen, prepare my bento box, put on my helmet and sunglasses, and grab my bottles, my bike seat had already gotten taint-meltingly hot. This ride was going to...

The Tour de France brings out the obsessed and somewhat eccentric cycling fans in droves. Maybe they’re cyclists themselves, or perhaps they just have a fondness for unflattering spandex. Whatever the reason, each year at least one Tour photo surfaces that captures a spectator looking gloriously awesome. Case in point, this dude. Much like Elaine’s boyfriend Puddy from Seinfeld, I picture this guy running around going, “We’re the devils! Eeeeehhhhh!” If I saw dudes dressed like this cheering me on at races, I would race all the freaking time.