A “Fat Cyclist Gear Pre-Order Week Is Still Going” Note From Fatty: The 2011 Fat Cyclist Gear collection is available for pre-order now through Monday, July 19. You can read details in my blog post from yesterday, or go to the special Fat Cyclist catalog area on the Twin Six site.
Honestly, if you want any of this stuff, you need to pre-order it, cuz while we order a few extras of most things, those tend to disappear, fast.
And do yourself a favor and don’t wait ’til what you think is the last day to do your pre-order, OK? Because every single time I do this pre-order, someone forgets and then sends me an email the morning after the pre-order is over, asking me to make an exception, and I feel all bad the whole day because there really is no way for me to make exceptions. If I hold up the metaphorical train before it starts its magical journey, it won’t arrive at its destination — which we will whimsically call “available by the Austin LiveStrong Challenge and NYC Marathon” — on time.
Also, I’ve given the Twin Six guys the power to reply to questions people have posed in the comments section yesterday, right within those comments . So, if you asked a question about sizing yesterday, check your comment to see if it’s been answer. Probably it has. Because Twin Six loves you.
La La La La Na Na Na Na I’m Not Listening
Last Friday, I went mountain biking on the Ridge trail with Kenny and Bob. Bob — who has lived at sea level (Seattle) long enough that he may as well have never been altitude-acclimated — was suffering mightily.
Here’s Bob, sitting on the ground after a long climb, trying to get every last drop out of his PowerGel:
(I should probably admit here that this photo doesn’t really have much to do with where I’m going with this post, but I wanted to put it up anyway, because Bob’s face looks like it came from a much redder person.)
These rest stops were fine by me, because they gave us a chance to talk, which is really about 70% of the reason I ride with friends anyway.
So as we were talking, Kenny — from out of nowhere — says who had won the two most recent stages of the Tour de France. Just like that.
And so I throttled him until he was unconscious. Before he could reveal anything else. Perhaps that seems harsh, but I think I was justified. Really, it was my only option.
And I’m not unwilling to use this tactic again.
The Plight of the Busy Person
Every July as the Tour de France begins, my television consumption goes up. Way, way up. Much to my disappointment, however, my job, my family and my other myriad (oh yes, I have a myriad) responsibilities don’t respect my sudden desire to watch three hours of TV per day by quietly disappearing into the background for three weeks.
How rude of them.
Thanks to the magic of the DVR, however, I can time shift my viewing. I record the live version of the Tour de France, hence accruing these three very important benefits:
- I can then watch the stage anytime I want.
- I can gleefully skip commercials. And yes, I do experience a moment of glee as the commercial whips by, unheeded.
- I can minimize the amount of Craig Hummer in my life.
But the DVR is a two-edged sword (that’s a metaphor; don’t try to actually use your DVR as a cutting device. Your results will be unsatisfactory.). Specifically, once you’ve said to yourself, “I’ll watch this later,” you’ve got a problem: how much later?
Or even more specifically, how soon will you have three hours to watch TV?
As a stereotypical middle-aged man, it’s easy for me to answer that question: I will never have three hours to watch TV, ever again in my life. Sure, some of the flat stages don’t exactly take three hours to watch. In fact, with judicious use of the remote, many flat stages can take approximately fifteen minutes to watch.
But still. There’s a distressingly high likelihood that I won’t miss just one stage. In fact, I’ve been known to have missed multiple stages in a row.
Right now, for example, I have five unwatched stages of the Tour de France. Which is about fifteen hours-worth.
Sure, I don’t really need to watch the first two of those five stages, thanks to Kenny. But my point still stands.
Right now, then, I have Saturday’s, Sunday’s, and today’s stages to catch up on (I had hoped to catch up on at least some of those stages last night, but I had tickets for the family to go see the local community theater production of Wizard of Oz, which — as it turns out — is about nineteen hours long.
And I really really really don’t want to know what is going to happen (OK, has happened, but it’s still in the future tense for me) on those stages. For example, I don’t want to know any of these things:
- Will Contador climb so fast that specially-purchased high-speed cameras will be used to film him?
- Will Armstrong reveal that he is actually not pushing 40 after all and is in fact in the prime of his life and will now gleefully crush his opponents?
- Will we ever figure out who designed the “Holstein Nude” look for Team Footon-Servetto?
So, in order to keep TdF spoilers out of my life, I am having to adapt my behavior in a most severe way.
- I don’t go to VeloNews, CyclingNews, BikeRadar, or any of the other bike news sites. This takes some effort, because I don’t even have to consciously choose to go to these sites normally. My mouse just wanders to my browser bookmark list of its own accord every few minutes.
- I don’t watch TV. I know that if something really really big happens in the TdF, it could crack into the mainstream news, and I will of course be watching during the five seconds they spoil everything and ruin the stage for me.
- I don’t leave my IM client open. Normally, I IM with friends pretty much through the day.
- I don’t go riding with anyone. I used to, but I won’t anymore (Thanks a lot, Kenny).
- I don’t look anyone in the eye as I ride alone. If I make eye contact, people are likely to say “hi.” Then a conversation could ensue. And then they could suddenly divulge what’s going on. And then I’d have to throttle a complete stranger, and I wouldn’t feel good about myself afterwards.
- I don’t answer the phone. (This one’s easy, since I have an iPhone 4 [but it takes great pictures and video!])
- I don’t look at email. I don’t even look at it.
I shall now go back into my hole, from whence I shall not return until I am caught up.
It could be a while.
PS: Don’t you dare tell me what’s happening in the TdF in the comments section, because if you do I will ban you forever. Even if you’re just kidding and making stuff up. Because I will, using my incredible powers of logic, infer what is really happening from your fake response. Believe me, I’ve done it before. I’m frighteningly smart.