I’m opening this post with another seagull picture. It was refreshing to observe a kid who hasn’t lost a sense of awe towards the natural world. I was also tickled, as was the seagull, by the kid’s excellent fashion sense.
So, you like seagulls, kid? Wait until one of them steals your breaded oyster burger or shits on you, both of which I’ve experienced.
Life’s full of disappointments, and seagulls are one of them.
Continue reading “A run gone foul.”“The credit offered is the support available through this program and doesn’t include covered shipping. If you’d prefer not to use it, no problem at all. There’s no obligation to accept.“
It began with my decision to participate in a Zwift group ride outside of the RIOT squad. It was a 75km ride, which would typically take me about 2 and a half hours to complete, thus boring myself to tears. I wanted to get an endurance ride in and pondered whether a group ride would make it more interesting. You can send short messages during these rides until your phone’s touchscreen gives up on registering your sweaty fingertips.
I joined the ride just as the ride leader announced that there would be prizes for the male and female with the most sprint points.
Things briefly became more interesting until I realized that out of the group of about 80 participants, there were only three other women. None of them attempted to get out of their saddles to challenge me during the sprints. The prize was undoubtedly mine early into the ride. I had no idea what it was; for all I knew, it could be a virtual badge. Zwift likes to give out those.
I submitted my email address to the ride leader to claim my prize, and three days later, a rep from The Feed got in touch, offering to add credit to my account, which did not exist. So, he explained how I need to create an account to claim my prize.
Hmm.
As hinted by this post’s opener, I straight-up asked the rep if it was a true prize or if I was still expected to pay for shipping. In case it was the latter, I asked if they had a promo code I could offer to someone else. That was when they responded, “There’s no obligation to accept.”
Oh, for the love of Amway…
Continue reading “The Mystery of my Koumpounophobia.”It is with immense satisfaction that I share Snorkelling Cat in its final form:
The frame turned out exactly as envisioned. As far as cross stitch projects go, this one is on the simple side. The handmade frame elevates the finished piece as a whole. It now hangs before the room known as the pain/crafting nook.
I started my day with toast. I love toast. But an hour post-toast, I found myself in the saddle with my shoebox-mounted laptop in front of me and a pool of sweat below. It was the last race of Zwift Racing League: City Showdown, and the final time I’d race with the RIOT ladies this year. This week, we raced in a world that serves as New York City, but with a futuristic touch. A part of the course takes you over the city on glass pathways. Or maybe it’s plexiglass. I don’t know what the material is meant to be, but the point is:
Continue reading “Days well spent.”Having experienced virtual racing, I can’t believe there are more people who film themselves suffering on a trainer to share on social media than there are people who blog.
I had my second-ever virtual race and the first with “the wolves” on Tuesday. Thankfully, the roomie wasn’t home to witness my thousand faces of agony. My pores opened like floodgates, and within minutes, a small lake had formed underneath my bike. This went on for 72 minutes.
In the videos I mention, riders often forgo the jersey due to comfort. What remains of their attire looks like a futuristic lederhosen, thanks to the cycling bib and chest strap heart rate monitor combo. The willingness to allow people to watch you, in sweat-soaked bibs, make the same faces women make when giving birth, is not the level of exhibitionism I can partake in.
With TikTok and Insta stories, are people just getting lazier about writing? Am I out of touch?
No. It’s the children who are wrong.
Continue reading “Older but stronger.”I’d say last night was the dumbest idea I’ve had in a long time, except it wasn’t my idea.
Let me talk about the events leading up to this near-disaster first.
Continue reading “DNF.”
squaremeat.com 