Why I Don't Post

I'm lax about posting largely 'cause this is the kind of excitement I have to share. The weekend went as follows:

Friday evening: We had every intention of cooking at home Thursday, but caved and hit up 2Amys instead. So Friday saw a nice NY strip, a couple Yukon Golds, and some asparagus sitting in the fridge awaiting heat and consumption (the act of eating, not TB). Simple ingredients, but good flavors. Paired with some new Cabernet SVR is into, we had a fine meal at home. Also, I finally watch 'Children of Men.' A bit one dimensional. The thing coulda been over in 25 minutes and it woulda been the same movie. Not sure what the critical claim was all about.

Saturday: Up early enough to not have to rush to get ready to ride. The 7AM is often unappealing cause it puts me in a state of frenzy just to get up and out the door by 6:30AM. Anyhow...MattyD. and I met up and committed to a jaunt out to Poolesville. The deal was to try to flog each other a good bit on the way out there. We did manage a bit of that and then bumped into some other DCMTB fellows just outside the Bretton Woods entrance and we all headed out to P'ville as a larger group. Matty and I throttled back a bit for the remainder and that probably turned out to be a saving grace. After 3:38 of ride time, I struggled like heck to get out of the Park on Porter and up the stairsteps from Connecticut to Wisconson. Ouchy. All-in-all, though, an excellent showing considering my very, very inconsistent training regimen.

After a quick shower, SVR and I knocked out groceries for the week and kicked back for a bit before heading over to D&S's. They planned to cook some Best Recipes gumbo. Sounded promising. When we arrived, S was pushing the roux well beyond her comfort zone. Tom Colicchio would have been way proud. Things were looking very good, with nice shrimp, spicy Andouille, healthy chicken breasts, a uniformly diced 'holy trinity,' and homemade shrimp stock all lined up for incorporating. And then D effed it all to hell! Adding the stock in one fell swoop was a big mistake. The result was not a thick, brown, rich stew. Instead, the pot looked like dirty dishwater with little roux floater terds. In the end, SVR pulled through with some fine improv skills and we had a hearty and flavorful Andouille and shrimp pasta dish.

Speaking of improv...the remainder of the eve was spent at The Source theater. They're running 'FIST: The Tournament of the Fighting Improv Smackdown Tournament.' I'll leave it at this: great idea, poor execution. I didn't laugh much.

Some brews at The Squirrel closed things down and it was off to bed already an hour in the sleep hole.

Sunday: Up at the ass crack and off to Trade Zone to do my volunteer duty. Marshaled turn one for all the races and was kinda surprised by the number of absolute dip-craps that tried to turn on to the course. Needless to say, I saved the day a number of times (pat, pat).

Standing and watching for four hours just about wore me out, but I still had to kit up and put in some miles with hEllicott and Dr. B. I hadn't ridden to North Beach in many years and forgot how hilly that area can be. My teammates absolutely pummeled me, but it was a swell time. I opted to ride the Giant all weekend and don't have my own data to spew, but apparently Evan's PT registered a TSS of 199 for day. Total weekend hours amounted to seven and mileage was just around 130. Needless to say, I need to carry that sorta load forward and ramp up on all fronts.

As The Wrob aptly pointed out, Walkersville should prove a painful ordeal for me. He kindly offered to save me the longer drive to the course and dress up in his old RHD kit and kick me in the nuts for a full three hours. He even offered to do that for $13.50 less than I paid to register for the race. What can I say? He's a giver.

After a rush to get home, we ended the weekend with another fine meal at 2Amys. The Commish, hEllicott, and the nearly born baby (Monkey, for now) joined us and it was great to sit outside with them during the calm before the inevitable storm. Hard to believe how different things will be for them in a week's time.