The Weekend of the Brick
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In my other blog I linked yesterday to an account written by Nat Cobb of his cross country Tour of Hope adventure. I promised Dano I’d run down the story I wrote last fall about Nat. Here it is.
“This thing is freakin’ sick!” Seems like there’s only one way to stop that boy:
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Talking to a friend earlier this week whose wife is a dancer. I was pointing out that I get a bit crazy if I don’t exercise, and he said the same thing happens to her – that he has to make her get some exercise sometimes just so she’s not unpleasant to be around. It’s …
I don’t wanna belabor this Pantani thing, because there’s something a little bit unseemly about a 45-year-old man even having sports heroes, let alone one as questionable as Pantani became. But back in 1998, when I was first learning seriously about cycling, it was Pantani I admired. And in particular, it was this day, the …
Jaime and I went up a new road (new for me, anyway) yesterday, out into the pi?on-juniper woodlands north of town. If there is a quintessential landscape of my home, it is the PJ, vast low-slung forests sweeping north from where I live. The trees, gnarly and stunted, have no majesty whatsoever, but a sort …
The death of Marco Pantani is a sad day for my sport. Seeing his decline these last few years was sad. Knowing of his drug use was unfuriating. Seeing him dance up mountains will always remain special.
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Plannning a long ride tomorrow with Jaime and some of his tri friends, and it just occurred to me that the subject of missing the Super Bowl never even came up. (Sorry, jrb, I’ll be rooting for the New England Whatevers on your behalf while we’re out doin’ the thing.)