What are you doing for a team next season?
I ask this of guys I know have upgraded to what we call "elite" status. I guess I'm elite too, although it doesn't seem to have upped my FTP; only my WTF. To top it off, my refrigerator konked out, jeapordizing my 30-year supply of primo (pronounced "pree-mo") "Lil' Stevie Matschiner's Self-Doping Kit" and also my brand new Case Wallach "Tomcat Style" Inseminator. 10 years of drawing gallons of blood, which I had planned to dump into myself with a turkey baster equiped with a sharpened 3/4" copper syringe needle (shown below), before the 2011 Ft. Ritchie Criterium, is now worthless.
Also possibly lost, and I'm not making this part up, is about 1/16th of a cow my brother left when he moved to Portland. I will neither confirm nor deny that my recent daily "pounding" of beef has anything to do with Contador's claim to have injested clen from imported beef.
Further depressing me is the election. Now that Republicans are in power, my dream of free EPO injections, courtesy of Muslo-communistic overlords, is gone. Change we can believe in...pshaw. We can look forward to a nation of subpar hematocrit levels for a long time. Is this what you wanted, Tea Party jerks?
This is how all my cycling thoughts tend these days, drifting towards politics. Not only because of the election, but of the whirl of dealmaking that ends / begins each season. Cervelo joins forces with Garmin. Menchov and Sastre join forces at Geox. Chuck Hutch moves to Mountain Khakis (as the chief legs and ass model for the company's ad campaign--not, as you were thinking, a rider for the Team Mountain Khakis). Tim Brown is rumored to have sought out illicit pedo-stache augmentation. Rugg dry humps his Performance brand "Century" "shammy."
The world is falling apart and falling back together.