Blogger Battles.
Wanky's fighting for the rights of cyclists not to get killed. [Note: the link is kinda generic because the post I was referring to is "Return to Dick City" and the blogger is called Wanky. Didn't want people to think I was referring them to a porn site.]
Steve Tilford is fighting to return to some semblance of normalcy. Again, I read of his situation and am thankful my own brush with brain trauma wasn't worse. All I want is for Steve to get better (because he's a kick-ass cyclist) and for people to actively think about their choice to wear or not wear a helmet when they ride. If they can justify their decision in their own minds and fully understand the consequences, my Libertarian side says that should be their own choice.
And what am I fighting?
After much reflection, the worst things I'm fighting are headwinds and boredom in a place I don't much care for. Put in perspective, my battles aren't all that meaningful in the big scheme of things. Never said this blog was about making the better place or had any higher purpose than to be a medium for me to spew vile hatred and spread discontent.
I'm ready to go home. I'm ready to spend time with my wife and children, and return to a climate more suited to my own personal tastes. Each weekend gets a little longer, the hours drag on more, and the routes get a little more stale. Some days I have to push myself out of the door to ride, instead of jumping at the chance to climb at the saddle.
A lot of this has to do with how much I've already ridden since I've been down here and how little of the road season remains for me. It's been a long one. Far longer than most years, and at a certain point you begin to feel "not so fresh" and require a change. For me, alpine skiing provides the mental douche, resetting me and building muscles I've neglected.
Everyone has their own priorities, prejudices, and battles. They may not be of any significance to anyone else, but they mean something to that individual.
My battles, petty and mean-spirited as they are, are just as real to me as Wanky's or Steve's.
Steve Tilford is fighting to return to some semblance of normalcy. Again, I read of his situation and am thankful my own brush with brain trauma wasn't worse. All I want is for Steve to get better (because he's a kick-ass cyclist) and for people to actively think about their choice to wear or not wear a helmet when they ride. If they can justify their decision in their own minds and fully understand the consequences, my Libertarian side says that should be their own choice.
And what am I fighting?
After much reflection, the worst things I'm fighting are headwinds and boredom in a place I don't much care for. Put in perspective, my battles aren't all that meaningful in the big scheme of things. Never said this blog was about making the better place or had any higher purpose than to be a medium for me to spew vile hatred and spread discontent.
I'm ready to go home. I'm ready to spend time with my wife and children, and return to a climate more suited to my own personal tastes. Each weekend gets a little longer, the hours drag on more, and the routes get a little more stale. Some days I have to push myself out of the door to ride, instead of jumping at the chance to climb at the saddle.
A lot of this has to do with how much I've already ridden since I've been down here and how little of the road season remains for me. It's been a long one. Far longer than most years, and at a certain point you begin to feel "not so fresh" and require a change. For me, alpine skiing provides the mental douche, resetting me and building muscles I've neglected.
Everyone has their own priorities, prejudices, and battles. They may not be of any significance to anyone else, but they mean something to that individual.
My battles, petty and mean-spirited as they are, are just as real to me as Wanky's or Steve's.
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