Whew
I did my standard 40 mile ride this morning and it kicked my ass. Seriously. I was fine until the first wee climb on Quitman heading east out of the Heights. My heart rate was about 10bpm higher than it should have been, and I made the last mile home with my left leg cramping up. No lie, I jammed up the climb at a great pace in the saddle, but my heart rate spiked to 193 and I felt an extreme shortness of breath that worried me for a few seconds. WTF? Note to self: get some rest.
I did lead part of the group part of the way, which was fun. I'm not used to having company. Normally, the fast group gets away from me at the start of the ride, since I'm a lot more careful at stop signs and traffic lights, and also because I ride my single speed fixed gear bike, which makes starting a lot harder. I had a few of the middle group keep up for a while, though, and that was nice because of the assholes in the Passat.
See, there were three guys in a black Passat who harassed us for about 3 miles, matching our pace about 30 feet ahead of us, hanging out the window and yelling. When they came to a stop to wait for us, I slowed the group down and considered changing our route to avoid them, but they eventually turned off. It was annoying and a little worrisome at the end, only because they were being so persistent, and my guess is that they were still up from last night, judging from their behavior.
I don't get it. I mean, I know there are assholes in the world, but I don't understand the mentality behind riding in a car and yelling at strangers minding their own business. That's so clever and tough! Maybe I can do that one day. Can I exclude certain people from receiving benefits from my tax dollars? 
But, oh well. 2400 calories and a dodged storm later, I got home and made a Taco Cabana run for breakfast to eat at home. Alas, though, my old standby, The Food Network, had nothing but crap on it. Giada de Laurentiis annoys the living hell out of me, mainly because she insists on switching to an Italian accent for all of her ingredients. It's contrived, and doubly so when she says "Nutella" with a Tuscan flair. At least one of her recipes seemed decent, though. Rachel Ray was on next, but I could only stomach (ha!) 2 minutes of her relentless and posed cheerful down-homey-ness after the introduction, which looks like it belongs on a daytime talkshow. Christ, but who decided to unleash a media juggernaut bent on cramming her down the collective conciousness of society to elevate her to a media personality bereft of both substance and style?
And now to get back to the new Harry Potter book, followed by a strenuous nap.
Keepin' it real since 1972,
Captain Baron von Awesome
