Today on the airplane I was fortunate enough to sit next to an old guy who was very curious about the sport of cycling.  He seemed to know a thing or two about the European Tours and whatnot, but he really seemed to know a some stuff about this thing called a “pelotron”.

Of course, I knew he was referring to the peloton and I took a quick sec to correct him once or twice.  But he continued on with this pelotron business and dammit the name has stuck in my head. 

And, I can see why.  A pelotron is obviously so much faster, so much more aerodynamic, than a regular old peloton.  One might even say its chic. It’s very high-tech, like something you might propel through a partical accellerator or some sort of mass spectrometer gettup (for the life of me, I cannot remember what one of those thingies is for or even looks like, but I do know that we talked alot about it in Organic Chemistry which was a class that I seemed to glaze over in a cloudy mind state due to cycling.  To be honest, it was a class I seemed to glaze over several times in college). 

So you may race in a peloton, but I will be racing in a peletron from now on. 

While we were in Philly last week, we discovered something very cool.  I do not mean the “royal we” here, I mean Chrissy, Lara K, and me.  Just a block away from our very centrally located host house, we found this strange bicycle art project on South Street in Central City Philly. 

It started as one man’s project on an abandoned lot in 1967.  And it grew to take over almost an entire city block, now known as the Magic Garden (I don’t really like the name either).  Glass bottles, broken mirrors, your grandma’s dishes, and bike wheels all smashed together to make a space from another world. 

I read one little piece inside this crazy place where the artist explains why he likes to use bike wheels.  It went something like this: the bicycle wheel is amazing because you can see straight through it, yet provides so much structural integrity.  Obviously not referring to any disks. 

Sure, Philly and DC have their monuments n stuff, but this kind of stuff is way better.  Way more real than any marble-pillared big old building dedicated to dead presidents.  I feel lucky that we found this gem in the city. 

So Philly race came and went without air-conditioning, an Irish pub was packed and gross with racers, and now me and some Blue Diamontes are in Minnesota for the Nature Valley Grand Prix.  Tough race this one, looks like a 140 starters and chances of flash floods for the first crit on Wednesday. 

I don’t think I have ever mentioned this, but as of Wednesday, flash floods are actually my favorite riding conditions. 

Or something.   

Sometimes I ask myself: what oh what could I have done to deserve a race like Sea Otter every year?  Last year we had some sort of instantaneous flood thingy, this year we had arctic winds n stuff.  It was so cold Hannah and Lara decided to race in their ValueAct BLUE FLUFFY super hot casual wear. 

Historically, Sea Otter has not been the best race for me.  Something about 80some times up this really steep hill puts a damper on the situation, but whatever. . . getting vertigo on the downhill corkscrew totally really makes up in entertainment for the suffering on the uphill.  Right?

Well I guess it’s time to play NAME THAT BOOTY for the week.  I will be at Anniston and Roswell GA so the winner can claim their prize there, or at a later date.  Oh yeah, the last winner was none other than Mr. Race-Announcer-Extraordinaire, David Towle.  The man’s got it going on . . . the voice, the brains, the charm, and the uncanny ability to recognize Dave McCook’s booty from an obscure photograph.

And I guess what I’ve learned from this photograph is that helmets really do make dents in your forehead, but they are still really important for protecting your brain cuz the pavement does not play nice.  And since RK is at Gila, what do I care anyway? I’ve got some wild nights of blogging and bad t.v. ahead of me this week!

The end.

Hhhmph!  Lucy here.

I am Martina’s new fur sis puppy!  She adopted me from the nice people at the Cascade Bulldog Rescue who fostered me until I was ready for my forever home.  Somebody had found me on the side of the road and I was HUNGRY! 

So I stayed in foster care for a few months to get some fixin’ before I set out to find my new family.  Now MP and her mama share me cuz mom says MP is too busy playing bike racer to give me all the love that I really need (which is lots n lots).  I keep hearing about about this little Lola who was real cute, but everyone says I’m real cute too.  And I believe them cuz everywhere we go I get lots of hugs and kisses!  I think mom is showing me off and I like it.  I am going to help heal MP’s heart - it broke last summer when something real bad happened to Lolie and she had to take a trip to heaven.

Mom says that Lolie used to snore alot and that I don’t make much noise, but I sure know how to cause lots of trouble.  I like to bite my water bowl in my teeth and dump it upside down.  Fun!  I like to play with my friend Charlie who is a giant poodle and when I am a good girl mom takes me out for a walk, which is great cuz that way both me and my mom will stay healthy.  I got lots of new toys, but I don’t like to share - when I say mine I mean mine!

Life is good now that I been adopted.  I have a big front yard and a back yard to play play play and my mom cooks me all my meals.  For some reason I don’t like grass, it makes my paws tickle!  For dinner I get to eat brown rice with sauteed chicken and broccoli.  I like to curl up and sleep in MP’s bed even though I’m not supposed to - what she don’t know won’t hurt her.

Anyway, I gotta go cuz it’s time for my 12th nap today and my paws don’t fit that well on the keyboard.  I think you will be seeing lots of me on your ‘puter screen from now on.  Oh yeah, that’s my old picture - I’m much prettier now!

While I was having a little New Year’s coffee at Royal yesterday, my conversation got on the topic of complete wastes of times New Year’s Resolution’s.  It’s no secret that most people’s New Year’s Resolutions involve some sort of admirable health and fitness goals, and for many cyclists that may be to increase their flexibility through yoga. 

Lemme tell you, I don’t know a whole lot about yoga.

Sure, there’s downward dog, chaturanga, plank.  Throw in a little warrior stuff, follow my my tips below, and voila!  That’s how you get through yoga class.

Martina’s Tips to Surviving Yoga Class:

1.  Well yoga class always starts with a little meditation piece.  This bores me - alot.  You are supposed to close your eyes, but I don’t.  Open your eyes if you feel like it, look around.  Guess what, if everyone else has their eyes closed, no one will know if you don’t.

2.  Always be the last person to get into the pose, especially the hard ones.  If the pose is easy like childs’ pose or something, you should be the first person into the pose.  This helps to maximize your rest time and minimize the time actually spent in the difficult poses.

3. Always be the first person out of the pose.  Ok, it’s not cool to fall out of the pose.  But as soon as you can tell the class is moving on, then get on it, yo.

4. Remember to focus your eyes on something.  Sure, you can follow all my tricks, but life is going to be alot easier if remember to focus your gaze on something in front of you or ont he ceiling if you are looking up.  This helps you keep your balance while you are in a pose.

5. Finally, when the instructor says “Hold this for 5 breaths” that’s your que to breath as loud as possible.  I’ve learned this one from experience.  See, a pose might be really hard for you and easy for your instructor and they may just want to hold that pose all day.  You’ve got to remind them that you’ve committed for 5 breaths, and you don’t have time for 6 or 10.  And the only way to do that is to breath at the absolute top of your volume, ok.  It also makes them think you are working hard. 

I’d also like to tell you that I’ve had the most pathetic new years experience of any other adult in the United States.  My festivities consisted of spending the evening (alone)debating whether to drink a bottle of champaign or a bottle of Nyquil. 

And no, I don’t have a cold.