TRY TO NOT TALK ABOUT YOUR BIKE.

Or how far you rode today. Or ran. Or whatever. Good luck, it’s hard.

The ego is powerful.

And when surrounded by other cyclists the ego can go into defense mode.

So here’s the challenge: When you hear other people talking about what kind of bikes they have or how far they ride or how often, don’t say a word. Listen. Encourage them.

For a cyclist, it can be agonizing. So many of us want to join the ego fest. Try to alpha male each other.

Try not doing that. Just once. Then try it again. Strengthen that muscle.

No More Food In Bar Form.

Make time for real food.

“But my life is too busy and I need something on the fly.”

Then make a sandwich.

A PB&J takes 30 seconds to make and is truly the Food Of The Gods in terms of deliciousness and energy replacement and portability.

“But I need something to take on a bike ride.”

(see above note about PB&J)

If you’re thinking you need Ginko Whatever or Goji Berry Of The Moment, you don’t.

Eat something real that tastes good that came from real products, not a lab.

Slow down and give yourself the time for a real meal. Even a sandwich counts.

You deserve that.

And it doesn’t take long.

Fear Is Over.

Let's give optimism and hope and possibility a shot. Whether it's something for work or a dinner with friends or hanging out with the kids or anything, let's do it all while guided by optimism and hope and goodness and let the chips fall where they may. If it all works out, great. If it doesn't, I'll bet that it still turned out really well.

I'm not talking about ignorance. I'm not talking about stumbling through life with a stoned, uninformed happiness. Quite the opposite. I'm talking about the contentment and optimism of the informed, wise old person who's realized that it's the best way to live life.

I just do not have time for people or companies or anything motivated by fear. I cannot abide it anymore. I simply do not have time for that anymore. I'm human - I get scared, I get upset, I get frustrated. But lately it's only when I put my trust in someone, only to find that they are still slaves to fear.

With each passing year I find that the only part of me that feels like it's getting older and weaker is the fear that used to be inside me. And it's on life support lately. And I couldn't be happier.

Okay, got that out of my system.

Ode To A Saddle

Just look at this saddle. Look at it, won’t you? Go ahead, stare. Soak it in. Shiny, brass rails. Deep, brown leather. Thing of beauty. You’re not seeing it? Okay, I get it. You’re not an old school, cycling geek. Well I am, brother. And you’ll have to trust me, this thing is a doozy.

It’s the Cardiff Mercia saddle.

See if you can relate: take whatever thing that you’re really into, that you love, and make it shinier and richer in color and you’ll understand what I’m feeling.

Some hipster fixed-gear guys are into these leather saddles but I always have the feeling it’s just due to the aesthetics. The style. My love starts there, but goes deeper. The comfort. The way it gets more comfortable as it ages. And the patina? Heavens. I’ve been loyal to Brooks saddles and this is the first time I’ve strayed, but I’m an optimist and I feel that this will give me the same happiness.

I’ll stop my poetic waxing for now. But just wait until I get the new Nitto Randonneur Bike Rack that I ordered. I cannot promise that I’ll contain my excitement. Until then.

Ride Just To Ride

And run just to run. Don't do it to train. Don't do it to race. Don't keep track of mileage.

Do it to feel the day. The cold air. Or the warm air. Run a few blocks. Ride five miles an hour or put your head down and go 18 miles an hour for a few hours. They're all good options.

Do it to challenge yourself if you want. To push yourself. To improve yourself. To get in touch with yourself. Not to get faster so you can beat other people.

Riding should make you happy. The riding and the riding alone. Give it a try. You'll find that you want to do it more often.

Mick.

Flat out cool. Like, I'm sitting here trying to think of someone cooler than young Mick Jagger (you know, before he started to look like Don Knotts) and I can't do it. I'm sure I will come up with some and, if so, I'll post about them too. In the mean time, here's a link to a simple and genius blog about the man right here - http://fuckyeahmickjagger.tumblr.com

(via a cup of jo)

Paris, 1962

Alright, this is what I'm talking about. A real sweet spot when it comes to style, emotion and aesthetics. If only I had the ability to take snapshots that looked this magical. Anyway, it's a lovely set of photos. Enjoy.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/tompalumbo/sets/72157604469886784/