A Letter to Lance Armstrong

07.21.2005 | 3:33 pm

Dear Mr. Armstrong,
 
I’m very sorry to hear that you have lost your job as a bicycle rider. Being unemployed is a difficult, demoralizing experience, and to tell the truth I’m not absolutely sure that anything I have to say will help. However, like you, I have found myself "between jobs" before — and I’m happy to say that if you treat this as a learning experience, you can gain some important life lessons from these admittedly difficult circumstances. Here’s how you can take those lemons and make lemonade!
  • Don’t be proud. From what I understand, Lance (I hope you don’t mind if I call you Lance), this is not the first time you have lost your job. In fact, I hear that last year the United States Postal Service fired you. Maybe now is the time for you to go back to them, apologize for your shortcomings, and ask for a job. It seems like common sense to say that there will always be work for mail carriers. If you can start being more consistent in your work, perhaps you’ll find that you have a reliable career that can last a lifetime!
  • Don’t be afraid to ask for help. No doubt you’re wondering how you’re going to make ends meet now that you have no job. Well, I understand you have a girlfriend who is a singer — in fact, if I don’t miss my guess, I believe she once had a hit song, "All Girls Wanna Do is Just Have Some Fun!" And while I think it’s safe to say that one-hit-wonders are a dime-a-dozen, she can probably still find work. In fact, I have several friends with younger children. I may be able to help her make some bookings for their upcoming birthday parties. In any case, if you need money, you should ask her for some. But keep a strict accounting of every penny you borrow, and an even more strict accounting of every penny you spend, to show that you’re not just throwing her hard-earned (and somewhat unsteady)money around foolishly. Pay her back as soon as you can.
  • Do something for others. I hope you don’t mind me being teensy bit little bit direct with you now, Mr. Armstrong. I can tell, just by looking at you, that you have always had it easy. You’ve never been sick a day in your life. Well, now may be the time for you to think about some of the less-fortunate people in the world. Help the sick, for once in your life. You’re a strapping young man; I’ll bet any hospital in the world would be happy to take you on as a candy striper.
  • Think about a career change. You’ve given bicycle riding a shot. That’s great that you’ve chased a dream. Now it’s time to come down to the ground and realize that it’s simply not a practical job. Try to find something you can be successful at. Perhaps you could get a job with Amway or Nuskin. Or maybe you could get a job making / selling those rubber bracelets that are so popular with kids these days. Or maybe you could take your former "career" experience and turn it into something practical — you could be a mechanic or salesman in a bike shop! Though, if you want to be a salesman in a bike shop, I recommend you stop acting like such a know-it-all about bike riding. Remember, the customer is always right!

You can’t help that you’ve lost your job, Mr. Armstrong. But you can help what you’re going to do now. Please accept this advice in the spirit in which it is given.

 

Kind Regards,

 

The Fat Cyclist

 

PS: I think you’ll be pleased to note, Mr. Armstrong, that my weight today is 166.2 lbs. Since I will be on vacation and then riding the RAMROD next week, however, I believe I will need to satisfy myself with maintaining my current weight for this week, as opposed to losing any. The Fat Cyclist Sweepstakes goal weight therefore goes to 166 lbs.

 

PPS: I will be in vacationing with my family Friday – Sunday, so I’m afraid I will not be posting, nor responding to posts for the next few days.

 

I Ride My Bike to Save Money. Or Not.

07.20.2005 | 4:57 pm

Last weekend, I put gas in my car for the first time since late May. This, of course, made me feel pretty smug about how much I ride my bike and how much money I’m saving by doing so. Like, probably $120 / month.
 
Of course, there’s been this annoying creak coming from the handlebar region of my bike whenever I put a lot of pressure on it (ie, wrenching it around as I struggle up hills). That could be a problem with the fork, the headset, the stem, the handlebar, or a combination.
 
And yesterday, the left pedal started making the most awful grinding sound ever. I’m pretty sure a bearing is busted.
 
And it’s been more than a year since I put new tires on the bike. Those Armadillos are tough, but they won’t last forever.
 
I need to get all these things taken care of before the RAMROD next week. Who wants to bet that the cost comes to more than the $240 I saved in gas? Anti-smug karma would dictate that this must be so.
 
Meanwhile, I continue to make car payments ($170/month). And insurance payments ($75/month). On a car I rarely use.
 
Grrr.
 
Today’s Weight: 167.0

How to Despair

07.19.2005 | 7:13 pm

I’ve done a lot of endurance rides — more than a dozen 100-mile MTB races, and probably more than a couple dozen events and just-for-"fun" rides. I’ve learned that my mood arc, from beginning to end, is perfectly predictable:
  1. Nervous excitement before starting: Do I have everything I need? Is my equipment OK? Am I fast enough to keep up / not embarass myself / reach my goal time?
  2. Giddiness at the beginning: Excited at the prospect of adventure, enjoying being around friends/like-minded cyclists, adrenaline from crossing a starting line.
  3. Helpful / friendly "Mr. Rork" (from Fantasy Island) phase: Talking with anyone who’ll engage about what lies ahead, how to gauge / meter your effort, pleasure at having so much sage advice to give.
  4. In the moment: Settling into the biking groove, no longer feeling a need to talk, thinking about whether I’m eating and drinking enough. This is the best mood of the race — Sometimes whole miles will elapse where I’m only peripherally aware of my surroundings: it’s just me, my legs, and the sense of motion. It’s a good place.
  5. Despair: I’ve slowed drastically and have begun talking to myself. I hate my bike, I hate the trail, I hate the other racers, I hate my former self: the obviously-idiotic self that thought doing another endurance ride was a good idea.
  6. Anticipation: My mind is on one thing only — crossing the line. I usually adopt a mantra for this part: "5 more miles. I can make it. 5 more miles. I can make it. 4.98 miles. I can make it.
  7. Resignation: Once again, I finished. That’s good, I guess. Once again, I didn’t meet my goal. Too bad. Oh well, I’ll get it next time.

Trash Talking to Myself

I don’t think I’ve ever done an endurance ride without going through all those stages, in that order. Of all these moods, though, I think "despair" is the most interesting. It’s absolutely the most informative, because a part of me I usually suppress comes to the foreground, and seems to feel that this is a good time to give me a frank assessment of my abilities, character, and priorities. Here are a few quotes from the conversations I have had with myeself:

  • For once — just once — can you try not being weak?
  • You have no business here. You have no strength, no speed, no endurance.
  • You have no business on a bike whatsoever, for that matter. You have no technical skill, you can’t climb, you can’t sprint, you can’t do anything.
  • What did you think you’d accomplish by doing another long ride? Did you think you’d learn something? Did you think you’d be faster than before? Did you think you’d impress your coworkers?
  • Your priorities are messed up. You waste all your time riding instead of being with your family. Or writing a book. Finish this ride, then sell the bike. Grow up.
  • Another guy just passed you. And he’s not going fast.
  • You had a whole year to train and lose weight for this. So were the Oreos worth being fat and slow? Did they taste so good that you don’t mind being out here pushing your bike up a hill, when you could be finished right now?
  • Do you think anyone would care if you quit? Nobody would. Get off your bike and tell people you were too sick to go on.

There are lots more — these are just the ones that come first to mind.

And yes, I always speak to myself in the second person during this stage. And yes, sometimes I do say these things aloud. And no, there’s never an angel sitting on my right shoulder, answering the demon sitting on my left. I never reply to the questions I ask myself. Continuing to turn the cranks seems like the only answer there is.

 

Today’s Weight: 168.2

 

Sweepstakes Change: I’ll be vacationing with my family this Friday, so won’t be posting — or checking my weight — on that day. So I’m changing this week’s Sweepstakes to Thursday, and setting my target weight for that day to 166.4.

How to Despair

07.19.2005 | 11:37 am

A Note from Fatty: This post was originally published July 19, 2005 in my old MSN Spaces Archive, and is now part of my “Rescue Fatty’s Old Stuff” project.

I’ve done a lot of endurance rides — more than a dozen 100-mile MTB races, and probably more than a couple dozen events and just-for-”fun” rides. I’ve learned that my mood arc, from beginning to end, is perfectly predictable:

  1. Nervous excitement before starting: Do I have everything I need? Is my equipment OK? Am I fast enough to keep up / not embarrass myself / reach my goal time?
  2. Giddiness at the beginning: Excited at the prospect of adventure, enjoying being around friends/like-minded cyclists, adrenaline from crossing a starting line.
  3. Helpful / friendly “Mr. Rork” (from Fantasy Island) phase: Talking with anyone who’ll engage about what lies ahead, how to gauge / meter your effort, pleasure at having so much sage advice to give.
  4. In the moment: Settling into the biking groove, no longer feeling a need to talk, thinking about whether I’m eating and drinking enough. This is the best mood of the race — Sometimes whole miles will elapse where I’m only peripherally aware of my surroundings: it’s just me, my legs, and the sense of motion. It’s a good place.
  5. Despair: I’ve slowed drastically and have begun talking to myself. I hate my bike, I hate the trail, I hate the other racers, I hate my former self: the obviously-idiotic self that thought doing another endurance ride was a good idea.
  6. Anticipation: My mind is on one thing only — crossing the line. I usually adopt a mantra for this part: “5 more miles. I can make it. 5 more miles. I can make it. 4.98 miles. I can make it.
  7. Resignation: Once again, I finished. That’s good, I guess. Once again, I didn’t meet my goal. Too bad. Oh well, I’ll get it next time.

Trash Talking to Myself

I don’t think I’ve ever done an endurance ride without going through all those stages, in that order. Of all these moods, though, I think “despair” is the most interesting. It’s absolutely the most informative, because a part of me I usually suppress comes to the foreground, and seems to feel that this is a good time to give me a frank assessment of my abilities, character, and priorities. Here are a few quotes from the conversations I have had with myself:

  • For once — just once — can you try not being weak?
  • You have no business here. You have no strength, no speed, no endurance.
  • You have no business on a bike whatsoever, for that matter. You have no technical skill, you can’t climb, you can’t sprint, you can’t do anything.
  • What did you think you’d accomplish by doing another long ride? Did you think you’d learn something? Did you think you’d be faster than before? Did you think you’d impress your coworkers?
  • Your priorities are messed up. You waste all your time riding instead of being with your family. Or writing a book. Finish this ride, then sell the bike. Grow up.
  • Another guy just passed you. And he’s not going fast.
  • You had a whole year to train and lose weight for this. So were the Oreos worth being fat and slow? Did they taste so good that you don’t mind being out here pushing your bike up a hill, when you could be finished right now?
  • Do you think anyone would care if you quit? Nobody would. Get off your bike and tell people you were too sick to go on.

There are lots more — these are just the ones that come first to mind.

And yes, I always speak to myself in the second person during this stage. And yes, sometimes I do say these things aloud. And no, there’s never an angel sitting on my right shoulder, answering the demon sitting on my left. I never reply to the questions I ask myself. Continuing to turn the cranks seems like the only answer there is.

Armstrong to Race 2006 Tour de France

07.18.2005 | 9:05 pm

New Rule Shocks Riders, Delights OLN

 

Paris, July 18 (Fat Cyclist News Service / fatcyclist.com) – With just one week to go until Lance Armstrong will likely win an unprecedented seventh Tour de France, Jean-Marie Leblanc (Director General of the Tour de France) announced today that Armstrong will in fact be racing in the 2006 Tour.

"We discovered something truly amazing last week," said Leblanc, chortling and rubbing his hands together. "Do you remember the day Armstrong started the stage without his yellow jersey, to honor Zabriskie? We told him to put it on. He refused, until we said ‘It’s in the rules.‘ Voilá, he puts on the jersey."

"That was when we realized," said Leblanc, "We can make Lance Armstrong do anything we want … just so long as it’s in the rules." Continued the Tour Director, "So, starting today, the winner of the current Tour de France must race in the following year’s Tour."

"It’s only fair, really," said Leblanc. "This ensures that some racer next year won’t be left wondering, ‘Would I have won if Lance Armstrong were racing?’ The answer, of course, is ‘No, you wouldn’t have,’ but that’s beside the point."

 

Riders React

Elite riders were uniformly shocked by this new rule, but tried to put a positive spin on it. Said perennial challenger Jan Ullrich (T-Mobile), "This announcement gives me a chance to next year challenge and defeat Armstrong. I believe that next year T-Mobile will have as many as eight team leaders, so I’m sure our team will work together even better than we are this year."

Ivan Basso (CSC), third-place winner in the 2004 Tour and contender for the podium this year, said on hearing the new rule, "I am actually happy to be able to challenge Armstrong again next year. Eventually, whether it is this year, next, or sometime when he is in his mid-forties, I am certain I can beat him."

Nobody was more surprised by this new rule, however, than Armstrong himself. "I’ve got to do this again? Isn’t seven times enough?" Said Armstrong. When one journalist said he could work around the rule by intentionally losing the Tour, Armstrong said dismissively, "Yeah, sure."

 

OLN, Discovery Channel React

A spokesperson for the Discovery channel, when asked how many more years they thought Armstrong would dominate the Tour, said, "That depends on whether you mean subjective or objective years. With our resources and connections to the science community, we believe that within two years we will have the technology to cryogenically freeze Lance between Tours. You know: race, freeze, thaw, repeat. Doing this, we think we can keep him in peak Tour condition almost indefinitely. We should be able to get another fifteen or twenty wins out of him."

OLN officials, reached for comment, did not say anything, because they were too busy cheering, hugging, and giving each other high-fives. Al Trautwig, commentator for OLN, remarked, "Lance Armstrong! Lancity-Lance-Lance-Lance! Eight, nine, ten-year Tour de France champion!"

It is unclear whether Trautwig was reacting to the news of the rule change or simply practicing for the day’s broadcast.

 

Today’s Weight: 170.8

 

PS: Bonus Shameless Plug: My 11-year-old son has been very busy building his own website: www.minigamemania.com – a collection of quick games he’s programmed. I highly recommend it, especially the game he just posted last night, called "Boing." Highly addictive. It took me more than 20 tries to get over the wall of bombs, but I did finally manage. Check it out!

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