These Internets are something, aren’t they? I just got paid to watch streaming video of the Superprestige stop in Zonhoven and was it ever a giggle.

The Zonhoven course features sand — lots and lots of sand — a run-up so steep that most guys pull themselves along using ropes that line the ascent alongside the course tape, and two steep, deep-sand descents, one of which was stacking up the body count faster than the Oakland PD attacking an Occupy encampment.

There were some spectacular get-offs on that bad boy, including one involving Tom Meeusen and Bart Aernouts. Meeusen screwed the pooch and augured in, leaving Aernouts — who was behind him and to the right as Meeusen’s bike catapulted into the course tape — with nowhere to go but right over the bars and into a world of pain.

Amazingly, both men remounted and finished. I would’ve laid there whimpering piteously until someone brought me a frosty Duvel.

So much for my skill at prognostication. Marianne Vos wins the women’s race and Zdenek Stybar takes the men’s title.

I was trying to follow the men’s race via streaming video, but it blew up on me somewhere in the third lap so I clocked in and went to work. The video finally came back to life with two laps remaining, so I had that going for me.

Man, check that photo of the men’s podium. Those are two disgruntled Belgians.

Good Lord, the worlds course in Germany sounds like your basic nightmare. Goo on top of ice. Mmm, mmm, good.

Naturally, being a Bibleburger, I’m pulling for Katie Compton in Sunday’s women’s race. She’s raced strongly and smart this season, and it’s not just a question of her being a Yank and a local — I think she’s got it coming. So sue me.

As to the men’s race, I know Tim Johnson and Jonathan Page well enough to say hi to, and I like Jeremy Powers’ style — but I think I’m gonna have to go with Niels Albert, who has been killing it.

That said, Sven Nys is overdue for a rainbow kit, and he likes him some filth. Will his come-from-behind style pay dividends in St.-Wendel? Stay tuned to VeloNews.com. My colleague Charles Pelkey is on the scene, and we’ll all be getting up way too early so you don’t have to.

January. Meh. The Turk’ and I both find it too tedious for words.

The upside of cycling in 30-something temps is that your bottles stay cool while your boogers get warm enough for you to bombard the iPod People with drive-by snot rockets as you zip past. The downside is that you have to wear every bit of kit in your footlocker and staying out for more than 90 minutes or so kinda sucks.

Yesterday I thought I’d be smart and toddled off to a nearby junior high school for a bit of solo cyclo-cross on Old Yeller, my favorite Steelman. The grounds there have a rolling nature, there’s a gravel track, some asphalt and a couple of staircases for run-ups, so yeah, perfect for chewing on that cold NNW wind only in tiny bites and getting in some vigorous healthful exercise.

Until the rear tire collected every goathead in Christendom and I had to take five to replace the tube, after first running a finger around inside the tire, probing for sneaky spines invisible from the outside. I found ’em the hard way, as usual. Owie.

This morning the front had gone flat, too. O bugger. That one I fixed indoors, where the furnace is.