Lame excuses . . .

Well, as I write this I should be en route to Mass, but I've momentarily run out of motivation. After
only missing one weekend between 9/21 and 11/16, when the local season ended, I've come up empty this weekend. I have a long list of excuses, but no one made a better list than Jake Blues, so I'll go with that. "I ran out of gas. I, I had a flat tire. I didn't have enough money for cab fare. My tux didn't come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts. IT WASN'T MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD."

That's all I have. The good news is that I have a brand spankin' new 29er in my basement, and so far, racing has gotten between me and its maiden voyage. I will without a doubt find the motivation to ride it tomorrow. Since I built it up on my own, hopefully the ride is mechanically uneventful.

I played in the annual family "Turkey Bowl" yesterday. You'd think CX would foster decent football conditioning. For the most part it did, but my legs are still pretty torn up today. I guess all of the riding let my lungs write checks that my legs couldn't cash. Probably the fact that I drank about a bottle of wine and 7 beers during the day isn't helping either. I'd join a 12 step program, but I hear one of the steps involves apologizing to anyone you've wronged. I just don't have that kind of time. That and and rehab is for quitters.

Cheers.