Saturday, March 6, 2010

Visitors to the House of Stupid

It’s somewhat....comforting, shall we say, to see that no matter what, people act true to their basic nature. For example, the reactions I received from friends when telling them about my exciting yet crazy Alpian adventure was telling.


Me: I’m going riding in the Alps this summer!
Deanna: I never get to go anywhere.
Me: What are you talking about? You go to some ride or race pretty much every weekend.
Deanna: Yeah, in Wisconsin, Indiana....
Me: And Virginia, and California....
Deanna: Big deal. It’s not the Alps.
Me: Well, I don’t go anywhere else, and I’m selling a kidney so that I can go on this trip, so....
Deanna, mumbling: I never get to go anywhere.


"Make sure you have good insurance when you’re over there! And don’t forget the plushy wool seat cover – your twelves of readers expect no less than you making a total ass out of yourself!"

And similarly, from my BFF Running-Princess:

"You’re crazy, girlfriend – after all, you are a bit accident-prone. But now you need to get your butt on that trainer! No more butterburgers!"

Sigh, I hate to say it, but my BFF does have a point. And then of course there's Annette:

Me: I’m going riding in the Alps this summer!
Annette: Fantastic! That’s really awesome! You’ll have the best time!

And finally, my dear travel partner Stacey, who’ll have to put up with my sorry self:

“I would fwd your post to the trip people as it's hilarious -- but then the ruse will be up. Need to fwd you my last email correspondence after I said you were coming from US, wanted to do several hors catagorie cols "for bragging rights". Ride leader sent me a tentative itinerary with 150 km (~90 miles for your american readership) per day of hill repeats, expressing concern it may not be sufficiently challenging for you.”

Am I the only one who started laughing while reading that last sentence? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

And it did occur to me only after I was in on this trip, that I’ll now be doing all my cycling without a major back muscle, the latissimus. But that won’t affect anything, right? Right??


stacey said...

stacey's house of stupid def open. let's do the math: 12 mph avg speed in the hills, leave house for 70 mile ride at 2 pm, sun down 5:30, wind chill 26F. so it turns out the reason i still can't feel finger tips is that i have frost nip. also explains why, when stopped to get soup at the chinese restaurant and peeled off the wet gloves, i started shaking uncontrollably (ok, that was the hypothermia) and my hands were in such pain that i started crying. the staff didn't speak english, and looked absolutely horrified. and the other customers ignored me. and box hill biscuit stop? closed.

jen said...

don't latissimus regenerate like the tails of lizards?