02.23.2011 | 7:12 am
A “Hey Check Out the New Banner Photo” Note from Fatty: Jo Ann from Western NY sent in the new banner shot, which was taken by Ron George. Thanks for sending that photo in, Jo Ann!
I’ll be changing the header photo on an irregular basis now. Any time you have a photo you think belongs in the header, email it to me, with the subject “Header Photo.” Thanks!
You are a cyclist, and so, naturally, you are sometimes frightened by the multi-ton vehicles — I call them “cars” and “trucks” — with which you must share the roads. And you should not be ashamed of your fear or confusion. After all, did you know that if you have a collision with one of these cars and / or trucks, the odds are you’ll sustain as much damage as the other vehicle?
Or quite possibly more!
Well, it’s true. And did you know that many — if not most — of these cars and trucks are, roughly speaking, ten gazillion times faster and heavier than you?
Well, that’s true too!
And — just one more little fact here — were you aware that, due to the inequity in size and speed between cars / trucks and bicyclists, there is a often a perceived animosity between these two categories of vehicles?
Yes, true again!
Of course, you’re no simpleton. No fool. You weren’t born yesterday, or probably even during a year that began with “2.” So you may well have already been aware of the above tidbits of information.
But here’s something I’ll bet you didn’t know: practically every single one of those cars and trucks actually has a human occupant inside — a living, breathing, human being. A regular person, very much like you or me — except for you and I are getting exercise and enjoying the outdoors, while the person in a car is breathing recycled air, is paying huge amounts of money for the nonreplenishable fuel propelling them, and accelerates / decelerates by barely moving their toes.
But otherwise: yep, people just you and me! I know. Take a moment to let that sink in.
OK, now that you’ve wrapped your mind around the fact that those cars (and trucks!) are filled with people (yes, people!), ask yourself: is it really possible that those people (!!!) — folks just like you and me — could really be so angry at us just because we have more fun getting from place to place than they do?
Of course not! That question was rhetorical, silly!
The truth is, the animosity and aggression and downright evilness you sense from certain car pilots is nothing more than a misunderstanding. Once you get to better understand the intentions behind the automotive pilot’s actions, you’re going to feel much, much better about sharing the road with them.
I’ll give you some examples.
SITUATION ONE: HONKING AT YOU
What happens: A car honks at you as it goes by, startling you and very nearly (or actually) making you crash.
What you think it means: “That jerk thinks it’s funny to make me swerve and crash!”
What it really means: The pilot of the automobile is struggling with feelings of insecurity, and has been for quite some time. Upon seeing you, these feelings have resurfaced, triggered by jealousy at your confidence, your athleticism, and your dashing lycra outfit.
Naturally, the car pilot’s first instinct was to pull over to the side of the road and weep at their own inadequacy and envy. Fighting down these ugly thoughts, the driver has instead chosen the high road: to instead give you a friendly greeting.
Unfortunately, this inner struggle took a little while to resolve itself. As a result, the person in the car didn’t honk until they were right beside you. Hence inadvertently startling and (hopefully nearly) injuring you.
Still, it’s the thought that counts.
SITUATION TWO: SWERVING AT YOU
What happens: A car swerves very close to you.
What you think it means: “That joker is either not paying attention to the fact that I am here on the road too, or thinks it would be funny to run me off the road!”
What it really means: The automotive pilot (sometimes called a “driver”) wants you to know that because they take your safety very seriously, they want you to know they’re in total control of the vehicle they’re operating. Hence, they are engaging in highly complex and sophisticated maneuvers designed to demonstrate the high level of skill they have with their automotive contrivance.
They’re showing you that their control over their car is so complete, so total, that they can execute what would otherwise be a foolhardy and potentially murderous action with total confidence. And that, therefore, you should feel totally safe, because the person behind the wheel (car drivers control their bikes with wheels, strangely) is not just a good driver, but an expert driver.
Kind of like the way the Blue Angels fly really close together, in tight formation. “Hey,” you should think to yourself, “If the driver can come within a hair’s breadth of killing me and still be smiling, this must be a rare driver indeed, and one in which I can put my complete trust!”
Isn’t that nice to know?
SITUATION THREE: THROWING STUFF AT YOU
What happens: The driver throws a beer bottle at you as they go by.
What you think it means: “That driver has just assaulted me with a deadly weapon. I’m pretty sure that’s a felony!”
What it really means: “Hey, you look really thirsty, and it just occurred to me that drinking while driving is dangerous, illegal, and stupid! Here, please take this beer, both to help me save me from myself, and because I suspect you might like some refreshment!”
SITUATION FOUR: MAKING HAND GESTURES AT YOU
What happens: The car driver makes a one-fingered gesture as they go by.
What you think it means: “This person, who has never met me before, has just insulted me for no good reason!”
What it really means: Did you know that in some remote cultures you have never heard of before, raising a single finger to the sky is regarded as a brief-but-earnest prayer, imploring mother nature to give those in the area good luck and excellent weather conditions for cycling?
It’s true!
So when a driver does this, consider it a thoughtful — and frankly, touching — beseeching of the higher powers on your behalf.
And please remember, in the cultures where such a gesture is considered a prayer, it is also considered rude for the beneficiary of that prayer to abstain from giving a similar prayer on the original supplicant’s behalf.
And you wouldn’t want to be rude, would you?
PS: Hey, I’ve started actually using my Twitter account. It’s a not-half-bad way to find out when I post something new. It’s also a not-half-bad way to find out what else I’m thinking about during the day. You know, stuff that sometimes makes it into the blog eventually, and stuff that doesn’t. Further, I promise not to tweet stuff about where I am or what I’ve just eaten. Unless I’m either at or have just eaten something very interesting. So: Follow me.
Comments (41)
02.22.2011 | 12:05 pm
About a week ago, I had an awesome idea. I thought to myself, “Hey, people are always telling me how good my guacamole is, and asking me how I make it. I should do a blog post about how to make guacamole.”
Then, I had an additional idea: “Hey, I haven’t done a video with my helmetcam for a while. What if I wore my helmetcam and just narrated while I made guacamole?”
At the time, it seemed like a can’t-miss idea. Me! Wearing a helmet! While cooking! And being funny!
What could possibly go wrong?
Well, here’s what went wrong.
First of all, the way I think is probably much better suited for writing than for extemporaneous talking. When I write, I edit a lot on the fly — by the time I get to the end of most sentences, I’ve had an idea of how the beginning of the sentence might work better. A couple of tweaks later and I’ve got a perfectly usable sentence.
That doesn’t work quite so well when you’re talking off-the-cuff. Oh sure, when I get to the end of a sentence I’m saying, I still have the idea of how I might improve the beginning of that selfsame sentence, but it’s kinda too late to fix it, what with my having said it and all.
Next, guacamole — while almost certainly the most amazingly delicious use of what is almost certainly one of the three most perfect foods on the planet — is kinda gross-looking when filmed from above, without special lighting, by a guy who has no experience making food look good on film (or the electronic equivalent thereof).
Third, I forgot to use my radio announcer voice, and so what you hear is my actual, normal, nasal voice. I’m so sorry.
Fourth, yesterday was not a school day, and so I had to contend with my kids in a couple of different ways.
- I had told the twins I’d be filming in the kitchen and so I needed them to go to a friend’s house or go play outside or something. This backfired beautifully; they kept coming inside to tell me what they were doing, which friend’s house they were going to next, and so forth. If I ever do a director’s cut of this video (very, very likely), I’ll include (and commentate) the part of the video where I yell at the kids to please, please, please, stop coming in and yelling, and to just go outside for ten minutes and let me get through this.
- I had a vivid mental picture in my head of how ridiculous I looked — talking to myself about how to make guacamole, while wearing a mountain biking helmet — and how uncomfortable I’d be trying to explain myself to any of the three teenagers that might wander into the kitchen.
Fifth, I take guacamole very seriously indeed, and so had very few hilarious things to say. Instead, I listened to myself in horror as I found myself giving an earnest rundown of how to make guacamole.
Wherein I Force Myself to Continue
Halfway through making this video, I nearly stopped. I didn’t, though, because I considered two things:
- If I don’t ever try new things just because I think I suck, I’ll never get good at anything new.
- Thanks to the miracle of electronic media, I could always just delete the whole thing if I decided I just couldn’t bear to put it on the blog.
And so I watched the video, and then edited it. Thinking, the whole time, “Well, it’s not quite bad enough to abandon the project.”
[Note to self: A good way to tell that a project should be abandoned is if you have to repeatedly tell yourself that the project isn't quite bad enough to abandon.]
After about 45 minutes of editing work, I had a video. Here it is:
Why put it up, when — obviously — I’m not exactly a fan of how it turned out? A couple reasons:
- It was an experiment. While it didn’t turn out great, there’s a chance that something I learned will be useful in another project I do. Or in a project someone else does. Who knows?
- This blog was built on a foundation of self-humiliation. So this fits right in.
- There’s a fair chance that someone will make and enjoy some guacamole after watching this video. In which case I will be partially responsible for an increase in the amount of happiness in the universe.
Comments (56)
02.17.2011 | 7:39 am
Hey, remember how I got LASIKs a few months ago? Well guess what? i AM NOW COMPLETELY BLIND.
Ok, that’s not true. But my left eye doesn’t see a lot better now than it did pre-surgery. So today I’m headed under the blade-o’-light again to see if this time things go better.
I’m headed over to Al’s House of BBQ and LASIK in twenty minutes. I’m very, very excited.
Sadly, though, this means I don’t have a ton of time to write right now, and I’m supposed to lay off the computerin’ tomorrow, too.
So I’m just going to quickly go through a (fairly short) laundry list of a few things I’d like you to consider, weigh in on, and otherwise hobnob about for the next couple of days.
Item The First: The 100 Miles of Nowhere
I’ve been getting a lot of questions about the Fourth Annual 100 Miles of Nowhere. Well, it’s definitely going to be on, and I’m tentatively planning on June 4 as the “race” day.
Related to that, I’m happy to say that Twin Six will be designing the T-Shirt (again). I wanted to get your thoughts around other aspects of the race.
- Call for Sponsors: Do you work for or know a company that would like to be a part of the most ridiculous event ever created? Considering that you’ll get lots of good coverage in my blog, you’ll be doing something good in the fight against cancer, and you’ll get your product out in front of hundreds of people, maybe you should want to sponsor the 100 Miles of Nowhere. If you’re interested, email me. Pronto.
- How important is the swag bag to you? Which is to say, if I said, “First 500 people to register get a swag bag, everyone else gets a t-shirt and a nameplate,” would you register even if you didn’t make the first 500 cutoff?
- What can we do to make this more of a community event? My original 100 Miles of Nowhere was just me, alone in a room. Since then, it’s become much more entertaining, with people winning it on cul-de-sacs, unicycles, and aircraft carriers, just to name a few extremely strange divisions. It’s become a fun thing to do with people you like (or hold a grudge against). So what can I do to make it a way for you to include more people, and raise more money?
I look forward to your ideas. This is gonna be fun.
Item The Second: I Want Some New Header Photos
I’ve been using the same photo in my blog header for so long now. And while the “Approved by UCI” logo gives it a touch of new hilarity, I’d really like to start rotating some new photos in.
So, do me a favor. Email me your bike-related photos you think might make a good blog header. Use the subject line “Header Photo.”
What can you win? Um, nothing. Sorry. You just get the satisfaction of having your photo be at the top of my blog for a while. And photo credit for sure. And — if you like — a link to your site.
Oh, and please don’t send me anything you don’t have the right to loan me (You of course retain ownership of the photo; you just need to have the rights to let me use it).
OK, I’m off to get lasified. I’ll be back Monday.
Comments (102)
02.16.2011 | 12:48 pm
Is everybody here? Great, please take a seat and let’s get started.
First off, thank you all for coming here on such short notice. As I mentioned in the email invite my people sent to you early this morning, I have arrived at an important decision today, and rather than let it leak out, I wanted to tell you personally. So let’s get started.
Hoo boy. Excuse me for getting a little bit emotional. This is harder to say than I thought it might be. Let me try again.
Effective immediately, I am retiring from professional cycling.
There. I said it.
I’m sure many of you have questions, and I’ll give you a chance to ask them in just a moment, but let me try to give my reasons first.
First and foremost, I am leaving the sport of professional cycling to spend more time with my family. And to write my memoirs. And also, because I am finding that maintaining an active presence on Twitter can be excruciatingly demanding.
Second, I am retiring because I have taken a good hard look in the mirror. I have to acknowledge that, with my 45th birthday only four months away, my chances of winning the Tour de France aren’t getting any better. Sure, from day to day I still feel pretty good, but I take a look at some of the other racers around me and realize that where I used to have to suppress the urge to attack, now I have to suppress the urge to yell at them to get off of my lawn.
And the truth is, my team kit just doesn’t fit all that great anymore. I asked my team director if I could get a size larger jersey, and he actually looked at me in disbelief. “This is the largest size they make,” he said. “And we had to order this one special.”
Also, I weigh 172 pounds, making me the heaviest pro cyclist living. I suppose that’s why all the guys in the peloton poke me in the belly. Which is not very respectful, honestly.
This brings me to the next reason I’m retiring: I haven’t won a race in a while. OK, technically I haven’t ever won a race, but my point is that while my UCI ranking has remained consistent, I find it demeaning that it’s been some time since I’ve even been allowed to race. In fact, you might say that my current team duties are more suited to an office intern than a cyclist. So if you’ll allow me a personal note to my team director: I’m a cyclist, Johan, not your freaking butler.
So, for those of you who were wondering, I will not be racing in the Tour of California this year. Nor the Giro d’Italia. Nor the Tour de France. Nor the Vuelta Espana. Nor even the Tour of Utah, unless I decide to poach it.
I am sorry to disappoint you.
Let me finish by saying that I have no regrets. Well, except that I wasn’t as fast as I’d hoped I would be. And that I’ve seemed to get quite a bit slower lately. And that I never had the self-discipline to keep the weight off. And that my contract with my current team has expired and that no other team has picked me up for 2011.
But otherwise, no regrets. Unless you count the time I crashed out the entire team that one time during the Team Time Trial, but I maintain that wasn’t totally my fault anyway; if the guy behind me hadn’t been drafting so close or yelling at me to “speed up” because “18mph on flat ground isn’t fast enough,” I doubt that crash would have even happened. On a personal note: I forgive you, Levi.
With that, I want to thank everyone for their time. I’ll now open the mic for questions.
What? Someone else retired today, too? Well. That’s a weird coincidence.
Comments (48)
02.15.2011 | 1:42 pm
Dear ProBar,
As you know, I’m a big fan of your energy bars. I eat Fruition bars all the time when I’m on the bike, and like the way a Pro Bar — especially the Cran-Lemon Twister — gives me a ton of energy when I want to stop for a moment and refuel.
I’ve noticed, both on your website and on the wrappers of the products themselves, that you create “delicious, convenient, healthy plant-based food products.”
And that’s the problem, folks.
While I enjoy a Nutty Banana Boom as much as (maybe more than) the next guy, sometimes I want something that tastes neither nutty nor banana-y. I want something that doesn’t taste like nuts, fruits, or grains at all.
I want something that tastes like a real meal. I want some sodium. I want something that has some protein, and I don’t mean that fake kind of protein you get by eating soy beans or nuts, or that chalky protein you find in most drinks and energy bars.
I want real protein. Caveman protein.
I think, ProBar, the time has come for meat-based energy bars. Or, as I like to call them, “Meat-ergy” bars.
Why Meat-ergy Bars?
When I think about all the people I know (and I know at least fifteen or twenty people), I can say with confidence that pretty much all of us are not vegetarians.
Except for a few. And I have a feeling that the few people I know who are vegetarians are doing so mostly to be obstinate, or because they haven’t recently had a really great burger grilled for them over charcoal.
My point is that most people like meat.
So why are all of our energy bars acting like we’re a bunch of wild-eyed, long-haired, soy milk-drinking, carrot-hugging vegans?
Actually, I use soy milk myself. But that’s because regular milk gives me gas, not because I’m opposed to it on principal. But I’m getting off track here.
So it stands to reason that most of us — 96% of us, according to the way I divided a ‘96 estimate of vegetarians in the US against the current population — would like our energy bars to taste more like food we eat by choice.
You know, like bacon.
Which brings us to my first proposed Meat-ergy bar, which I have asked my good friend Kenny to mock up for you:

Honestly, who wouldn’t want to eat that?
Just think, you’re riding along and you’ve been drinking sweet drinks and sucking down sweet energy gels, and chewing sweet gummy energy stuff. You stop for a moment to have a snack. What do you want: a sweet energy bar, or a bar that has the taste and texture of bacon?
That question, of course, was rhetorical, because the answer is perfectly obvious.
So, to sum up: taste, texture, protein, appeal to the palates of 96% of the population. These are the reasons it’s time for Meat-ergy bars.
Ideas for Meat-ergy Bar Flavors
Be honest, ProBar: do you think anyone has any idea what the “Superfood Slam” tastes like? Or the “Whole Berry Blast?” Or even “Old School PB&J” (hint: it tastes nothing like a real PB&J)? Heck, I’ve had them all and remember they all taste like nuts and dried fruit. Which is fine, if you’re a squirrel.
And that’s why, in addition to the benefits I’ve already listed, Meat-ergy bar flavors practically sell themselves. The flavors you create should be based simply on popular kinds of meat. For example:
BaconBar: This should taste like bacon, at least in the first iteration. Really, I can’t think of anything better. In fact, if you just cook and package bacon, I think most of us will be very happy. Of course, as you roll out new versions of the product, you might want to look into the BLT (perhaps include a packet of mayonnaise), bacon-wrapped steak, and bacon-and-eggs.
BurgerBar: Is there anything in the world better than a good burger? The answer is, “Yes, a burger with bacon,” but that’s not a problem, since I’d just take a bite of the BurgerBar, followed by a bite of the BaconBar. Please do me a favor and use Angus beef, prime or choice cuts only, with modest marbling. Lots of Worcestershire sauce. Grilled over charcoal. Thanks.
SteakBar: I don’t want to get picky, but is it possible for your SteakBar to have options for how the consumer likes their bar cooked? (I’m a Medium guy myself.) I understand that this means you’ll have to contend with product fragmentation — not to mention the problem of how you keep a rare-cooked Meat-ergy SteakBar from getting all gross — but I’m sure your R&D guys will be able to work it out.
ChickenBar: Hey, not everyone likes red meat. And just think how easy it would be to make variations of the ChickenBar. Teriyaki, Barbecue, Cacciatore, you name it: just add the appropriate “marinade” packet before eating.
SalmonBar: Okay, I admit I just threw this idea in here as a joke. I can’t imagine myself opening a Meat-ergy bar mid-ride and being greeted with the scent of fish. But hey, that’s just me. Maybe.
See, ProBar? Those are just the ideas off the top of my head. As you build on the certain success of your first Meat-ergy bars, you can expand the line by going upscale (FiletmignonBar, PrimeribBar) and value-priced (CornedbeefBar, SpamBar). Regional dishes (JambalayaBar in New Orleans, SnailBar in France) are also smart areas of diversification.
I think you’ll agree, ProBar, the time for this innovative product has come. I look forward to being one of your first Meat-ergy Bar customers.
Kind Regards,

The Fat Cyclist
Comments (94)
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