How the Ball Bounces

Tonight is the NBA Draft Lottery. As a Kings fan I obviously want the first pick. I think it would be fitting if the Kings won it, and put Blake Griffin in purple and black, but storybook endings aren't guaranteed.

Wayman and Blake at Oklahoma:



Wayman and who in Sac?



Later.

Mean Eyed Cat

We went to the Mad Cat bike swap today where I picked up a bunch of crap I probably don't need. I didn't take any pictures but other people were posting some online. I found one of Jennifer carrying my new handlebars:

I'm in the background of this one negotiating for a bike:

The guy wanted $450 for this Fuji cross bike. I told him I didn't have that much on me. He asked what I had, and I pulled $206 from my wallet. Surprisingly he took it.

It's always fun to go to cycling events and hang out with like-minded people. I picked up the cheap used parts I was hunting for and a bike I didn't know I needed. It might be a little small for me, but I think I know a guy who can definitely use it . . .

Later.

Cool Video?

I can't decide whether this is a cool video or if I hate it. You be the judge.

I definitely identify more with the girl than with the hipster fixie dufus playing in traffic.

I will say the music production is way above average for an Internet video. Crank up your speakers.

Click on the HD button if you want to see it in HD on the Vimeo site.

Later.

It's Your Ride from Cinecycle on Vimeo.

Back in (the) Black

Yesterday was the 15th of the month, and after my commute home from work I'm at 303 miles. I'm back on track and in the black, Jack. I might just make my 600-mile pledge. Wee.

Later.

Wayman Tisdale: 1964-2009

You were a good King and a good man. Rest in peace, Wayman.

Seis Cientos Millas en Mayo

The two endurance races I had circled on the calendar have come and gone, and I missed them both--one due to sickness and one due to laziness.

I didn't ride a whole lot in April, and for some reason I didn't care much. I went on vacation, worked in the yard, and knocked out some home improvement projects. And went to work as little as possible.

I didn't find my mojo in San Diego, nor did I find it at the job site, nor at the end of a shovel or hammer. It was gone.

So May rolls around and it's bike month. I figure it's time to start riding again, and what better motivation than to pledge a big number on a web site that all my coworkers will see.

I pledged to ride 600 miles, which is a number I haven't tallied in a month in almost six years. The last time I did was the month prior to moving in with my spouse. No surprise there, and I'm not complaining. It's just the way it works.

Six hundred miles isn't a lot for a "serious" cyclist or racer, but it's a lot for me. Since I don't currently own a road bike, all the miles are cranked out on knobby tires. And the terrain around my house is a bit hilly to say the least.

To get that number I figure I have to average 20 miles per day for the first thirty days. The 31st will be a "bonus day" when I can either make up my deficit (likely) or tack on more miles to my total.

Today is the 12th, and I have ridden 217 of the projected 240 miles. I started off with a big deficit because of all the rain in the beginning of May, but I have rebounded in the last week to close the gap. With a good ride tomorrow I might even put myself in the black.

Later.

Pleurisy Stole My Mojo, Baby!

It's been six days since Boggs and I have been on one short ride. The goo that filled my lungs is long gone, but I can't seem to motivate myself to get back in the saddle. I'm in a funk. I've lost my mojo.

Psychologically, it's tough to bounce back from missing something you worked so hard for, especially when it's snatched from you in the eleventh hour. All the rides in the cold and the rain for naught.

At first I thought I'd just regroup, keep grinding and get ready for the 8-hour race in Cool. But a day went by, then two, then three . . .

Sunday I leave for an 8-day, bike-free, family vacation in Los Angeles and San Diego. Add that to a week of resting for the Boggs race and getting sick, plus a week of being lazy, and that pretty much ends all hope of being fit for Cool in May.

On the positive side, I know I'll come back from vacation hungry to ride. I might even find my missing mojo. I'm hoping it's waiting for me on a beach somewhere in San Diego.

Later.