Back where we started

Last Saturday

I set off for the wilds of Wisconsin, for that elusive “Wisconsin fun” that they promise us on the billboards on the way up there. But before I relay my WI adventures, I must first address something that Alert Reader Todd wondered – about whether Pollyanna wound up paralyzed, bed-stricken, whored out to one and all, etc. Ha, no, of course not! That would be silly!

Pollyanna’s story was worse, actually. Yes, Pollyanna was none other than.......a....a spawn of Satan! Yes, it’s true – well, at least according to conspiracy theorists on the internet, who as we all know are the harbingers of rational thought. You see, while looking for a picture of Pollyanna, I found info on what started it all – not the cleaned-up Disney movie, where everyone lived happily ever after from the start - but rather the book, which came out in 1912 and was a veritable fount of charm and wisdom, using words like “ejaculate” in ways you’d never have thought possible. The following, for example, was a response to Pollyanna as she was trying to cheer up some old curmudgeon: ‘“Well, of all the—" ejaculated the man, with an oddly impotent gesture.’

You see the possibilities here.

But the Satanism – our faithful bloggers make a decent case for that. After all, how would Pollyanna have the power to be able to cheer EVERYONE up, to see the good in all, to enchant all those who meet her? Why, it must be a pact with the devil, clearly. And when she’s mysteriously hit by a car towards the end of the book, does she miraculously recover even though doctors say she’ll never walk again? Of course! You’re telling me Beelzebub didn’t orchestrate THAT one? Puh.

Oh, and Alert Reader Todd also notes the primary reason why it’s so critical that I do IronSpud, and that of course is for the potential goldmine of blog fodder. Duh! How could I overlook this? Not only do we have the race itself, but also the road trip out there, just me toodling across the Badlands and states that have more cattle than people – by far – and then, when I get to CDA, I’m going to have D! sharing my hotel room with me. Now if THAT isn’t a recipe for complete and total madness, I don’t know what is.

And finally, a note to all: when you’re having a shitty day, week, month, life, etc., I highly recommend trying a bit of “Fuck” Therapy before you try any pricy therapists or anti-depressants. Because you know, now that I’ve gotten all that stuff off my chest, I feel a whole hell of a lot better. Imagine that.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Wisconsin. Saturday I got up there just as everyone was leaving for the group ride, so I went off by myself. The best part of the ride was that the road from Blue Mounds to Mt. Horeb is newly paved with a beautiful bike lane, which, between that and cheese curds, made me decide to move to Wisconsin right away. After that, it was pretty much all downhill. The IMWI loop seemed much hillier than I remembered, riding it was tortuous, I wound up in tears at how much I sucked. Sunday I decided to do a 2-hr run instead, my legs were fatigued from Saturday, I was again in tears at my own suckiness. And after about an hour, even though I had brought with me a bottle of Infinit (okay, enough for a 1-hr run), I started exuding ammonia as if I had bathed in it, getting a headache to boot. I know this is a sign of insufficient carbs, but then Annette tells me that it also means you’re putting your body in a catabolic state, which isn’t good. Yay me.

Monday, did I go for the Trifecta of Suckdom? No, because I wake up with a wicked cold, it’s cold and insanely windy, and I decide to head home rather than sit in holiday traffic. Sometimes...you just have to know when to cut your losses.