Smoke and Mirrors

Ya know what I mean?

Will this day never end?

The birthday the bike and the bonk

The Birthday:
It’s been a while since I’ve had much to say, but I’m older and wiser now. I’m older because I just had a birthday. Normally, I would not mention my birthday because it’s no big deal to me, but as you can tell by the title of the post it’s important to the story. I prefer my birthday to pass without much fanfare. Sure. It’s nice to get a little spoiled by the wife, but that’s it. I don’t like most people to even know when my birthday is. Well this year I got my wish in a big way. Only a few close friends celebrated the big day. We had three friends over for take-out and cake. My Baby and I had an awesome dinner out on Friday, and my present was WAY over the top (see The Bike).

The bike:
I’ve recently started to join my wife and her friends on some bike rides. None of them have been too challenging (my longest to date has been 50 miles). Keep in mind that I am older now. Anyway, since I had been enjoying the activity and time spent with my fellow bikers my wife decided I should have a bike of my very own. She also decided that the bike should be very nice(as you can see by the picture). This bad boy has 27 gears, disc brakes, front shocks and a comfy seat (as comfy as a bike seat can be, anyway). I was completely surprised by this gift. I never saw it coming. She threw me off a while back when she won a bike in a raffle. Since she already had a road bike and a hybrid (cross between a road bike and a mountain bike), I thought she might give me the bike she won. Instead, she told me that she didn’t think I’d be a serious rider and she sold the bike she won. As it turns out, she sold that bike to get me a different/better bike. Thanks for my new bike, Baby. I love it.

The Bonk:

bonk: a state of severe exhaustion caused mainly by the depletion of glycogen in the muscles because the rider has failed to eat or drink enough. Once it occurs, rest and high-carbohydrate foods are necessary for recovery.
I used to think that bonking was another way to say that someone was having sex. I have since learned that there is another less satisfying meaning for the term “to bonk”. I learned this meaning first hand on Sunday. I had my spiffy new bike out for its maiden voyage. The sun was shinning, birds were chirping and we had a beautiful route planned through the Lancaster countryside. Somewhere along the way things began to go horrible wrong. The hills were kicking my ass. I had gone through all of my water, and we were less than half way done the ride. This recreational activity was becoming more and more unpleasant. Eventually my left leg locked with cramps. I managed to get off my bike just before it happened or I would have fallen over. Every muscle on the top half of my leg turned rock hard. All I wanted to do was to get off my feet so that I could relax the muscles, but I couldn’t move. I drug myself a few feet to get away from the road and collapsed to the ground. Just as I did, I heard a dog barking and coming at me. Luckily it was the friendliest dog ever, because I was helpless. Within a few minutes, the cramping subsided and I was able to climb back on the bike. We still had over ten miles to go. I finished the ride, but it took everything I had and then some. I will never bonk again. From now on there will be proper fueling (carbs baby, carbs) and plenty of hydration.

The rant about doctors

I know. I haven’t been posting and now that I finally have, it’s bitch, bitch, bitch. Sorry.

Any how……

I’m a guy. That means I do not go to the doctor unless I am sick and believe I can not get better without drugs.

I just went to the Doctor.

I caught a summer cold. No big deal right? For most people that’s true. Unfortunately, I’m not able to get a cold like most people. It starts out as a cold and it sucks but that’s no reason to see a doctor. You take some OTC drugs and get over it, right. Um, yeah. My cold runs it course, then turns into something nasty. Whatever it is, it lives in my chest and makes sleeping impossible for more that 45 minute chunks. These “naps” are interrupted by violent coughing fits. As you can imagine, all of this coughing turns my throat to hamburger. This happens every time I get a cold!

The last time I went to the Dr. for this, I was told I had a sinus infection and the cough was caused by post nasal drip. The time before that it was bronchitis. OK. What ever. This time, I was told I have strep throat. How can the same symptoms be a totally different diagnoses. Each time, I tell the doctor that every cold turns into this nasty coughing chest thing. They can’t tell me why or consistently diagnose it. At least I get drugs and eventually I get better.

After reading the above, you may have determined that I am less than satisfied with my current doctor. You are correct. That’s why I decided to try and see someone else. The first call I made, I was told the 1st appointment was available in late October. Thank you, no. With my next call, I was offered an appointment in September. Better, but not good enough. Finally, I accepted a mid August appointment to establish a relationship with my new Doctor. I will go in for a physical. Hopefully, once I’m an established patient, I can see this doctor while I’m sick and before I die.

So here’s the deal. My new doctor is a woman. Now I’m not a chauvinist. I have no problem with a woman doctor, lawyer, president or anything else. It’s just a little weird knowing that she will be poking, probing and squeezing areas that only my wife has seen for over twenty five years. It raises an interesting question though. Is it any less strange or embarrassing to have a male doctor doing the same thing? I’ve decided it’s just plain embarrassing no matter who is poking, probing or squeezing your naughty bits. I just want someone who listens to what is wrong with me and gives me a diagnosis that seems to be more than an educated guess.

My Independence Day rant

Why is it that people are fascinated by all of these cheap ass, completely lame fireworks. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good PROFESSIONAL display as much as the next guy. I despise all other fireworks. Just because you are amused by the two second whistle followed by a weak pop that deposits your spent bottle rocket into the neighbors pool does not mean that anyone else thinks it’s cool (especially the neighbor with the pool). Don’t even get me started on smoke bombs. Why is anyone entertained by stinking up the air with colored smoke, especially in the summer when the air is so thick that it lingers for about ten minutes? Even if it smelled good, I wouldn’t want to smell it for that long. Let’s agree, once in for all. If they are legal they are lame. If they are illegal, they are dangerous. Let’s leave the fireworks to the professionals, shall we. Oh, and one last thing. Who ever the knucklehead is that is who keeps shooting off the roman candles at 3:00 PM, you might want to wait for it to get a little bit darker. Dork!