Another birthday in the books. Funny, I don’t feel a day over 57.
I spent the joyous occasion hunkered down in the titanium and carbon fiber VeloBarrel, which had sprung a few leaks on Saturday after a software update. Nevertheless, I managed to abandon my post for 90 minutes both days for the never-ending struggle against my inner fat bastard. And there was whiskey last night.
Meanwhile, our typically psychotic spring weather continues. Gray skies, freezing fog, light snow and/or rain in the morning, semi-sunny and fitty-sumpin’ in the afternoon. For a guy who likes to take his exercise around 10 in the morning this creates something of a problem — as in, how to avoid the sort of embarrassing shrinkage that makes a guy look like a pudgy, bald-headed Ken doll in Lycra.
The solution so far has been to ride in the afternoon, when it’s warmish. But I’m a creature of habit. Get up at 7, caffeinate, eat a little sumpin’-sumpin’, write a bit of paying copy or rough out a cartoon, then tug on the bibs and go scare some iPlodders on the bike path at 10 a.m. sharp. Post-ride, I get back after the money-making, sit zazen, rustle up some vittles, have a dram or two or three, enjoy a bit of electronic entertainment and hit the hay.
I mean, what’s the deal here? All I’ve ever asked of the universe is that I have everything exactly the way I like it. Sheesh.
Mad Blog Media 
Spring? What’s that? Right now, I’m thinking that I’m much more likely to see the Easter Beagle smooching Lucy before I see Spring. It was 26F when I rolled into the office this morning and the beard had the requisite amount of ice on/in it.
I hear ya bro’ I’m firmly in the warm weather cycling mode but we’re having a distict lack of said warm weather, so it’s been a question of “is another hour on the trainer better or worse than going outside into the cold, wearing most of the cycling clothing I own?” Since early last week the answer’s been “trainer-bad, outside-worse” so other than some walks I’ve been inside, comforted by the hope that this will truly be the last winter/spring I’ll spend here. I’m trying to smack the scale with a few less kilos before heading to Italy this year — it’s gonna be a struggle if Ma Nature doesn’t start paying attention to the damn calendar!
happy old age.
Fifty-seven isn’t old, saith the decrepit seventy year old geezer.
It’s definitely springtime here here in Boulder, temps in low 30s, light snow, mist, fog, etc. I think The Turk has the right idea for today.
Happy birthday, you old fart…I hope you get to pull on the Old Guys jersey for a few minutes in the sun.
57 doesn’t feel much different than 56, O’G, except now you too get to wear the Heinz label for a year. Welcome to old age….I started getting annoyed when the geezer organizations started sending me junk mail. Now I just flip through to see if there are enough discounts to warrant joining.
Add 1 more Happy Birthday from the peanut gallery. You’re not getting older, you’re getting better. Well, I guess we’re all getting older, some just not better. Like the Republican party, for instance.
Happy Birthday Dude. 57 ain’t so bad, been here for 8 months already and it feels just like home. Come on, catch up.
Larry, I took one look at the trainer and decided 50 miles in 34 degree temps with a north wind off Lake Michigan was the better deal. You have a tougher butt than I.
Happy Anniversary Patrick!
Tell me how you feel in a few months and I’ll have something to shoot for in just a wee bit shy of a decade and a half. While you don’t feel a day over 57, you act like you’re a day over 12! Keep the funny bone in alignment and it is all the same. And as a somewhat belated birthday present: the nuclear reactor in the sky will make an appearance later this week. I promise. Really….
Happy Birthday! You re just a pup..
All these guys are full of crap Patrick. I’m 60 – it ain’t fun and the fun will continue to decrease as the years go by. The BIG SUCKING SOUND started when I turned 57, your age now. It’s ALL downhill from where you are, trust me on this. My remedy: you’re not drinking enough – you think you are, but you’re not. More whiskey (only the good kind – wait: is there a bad kind?) in small drabs at night and much more Zin during dinner. I’ve detected a distinct lack of good Zin in your diet over the years. Big, possibly huge mistake – could be killing you.
Oh, and take care of that woman… She’s really the ONLY reason you’ve made it this far…
Belated Birthday wishes!
Happy birthday Patrick. Keep on truckin!.
I’m a wimp who grew up in SoCal. 50 miles in 34 degree temps to me is not a bike ride, it’s a sentence for a crime! Happy Birthday OG! David sounds like he REALLY needs to go back to Italy for awhile….I’d rather be 60 years old THERE than 50 years old here….and by the time I can actually retire and live there full-time I’ll BE 60.
Patrick,
All the best to you (belated as my benediction may be) on this glorious celebration of your 57th year on this planet. May the goatheads lie down before you and grant your tires safe passage, and may the eternal fount of Irish whisky flow freely down your blessed gullet.
Dale O’Brigham