I have not been biking. I have not been doing anything but working, getting my ears yanked off by a toddler, and sleeping poorly. I moved to a house across town. It's at the foot of a pretty monster hill. Why they even use this hill in the tour of california. It's pretty big. Da(umb) Robot gets a boner over this.
I do not. I am now an even worse cyclist and my move from a triple to a double has turned into an epic fail. I went from just barely being able to do moderate hills, to not even being able to make it up the hill to my house. So I did what anyone with some cash burning a hole is his pocket would do. I bought a new cassette.
However, I did something that only I would do. I bought a 14-23 cassette. Which is much harder to climb with than the 11-25 I currently have. Not the little sprocket dummy. The big one. Ugh. Good thing the place I bought the cassette from will take it back.
Oh and it gets worse. I really stopped paying attention to this blog. Then I return and find out that Da Robot has taken it into a new hardcore realm of cycling that I'm pretty sure will make fun of me and spit espresso at me when I try to click the "Publish Post" button in a few minutes.
Shit, I'm just trying not to have a heart attack on every steep hill and my blogmate is a fanatic who may or may not have designs on kidnapping euro cyclists, keeping them in a well in his basement and having them rub lotion on themselves then putting the lotion back in the basket. You think I'm being a funny guy, but I'm serious. The good news is I don't think he checks this blog anymore either. So maybe I'll try to wuss this thing out.