Tough

It's Sunday night and I am doing the usual basket of nasty cycling and running laundry. For those making a schedule, Sunday is laundry, Tuesday and Friday are leg shaving days and Thursday night is groceries. Anyway, the water is filling up the washing machine and as thrown in a handful of shorts I see a spider come running out of one of the pockets. I like spiders so I am trying to save the little guy. Mr Spider is running around the clothes looking for a way out. I grab a Velo News magazine from the bathroom and tear out the subscription card to use as a way out for the spider. I know if I try to pick this sucker up with my fingers I’ll probably do more damage than good. As I reach in for the spider he disappears down a pant leg and then the water covers the exit…he’s a goner. I finish dumping in the rest of the clothes and go make pasta (Angel Hair in his honor).

As I am apt to do with a busy work/training schedule I forget the laundry for a day and Monday night it dawns on me that I am missing a lot of workout clothes. I’m in a lazy mood and want to go to bed so I throw 99% of the clothes in the dryer. A cardinal sin for fine workout garments, I know. As I am about to close the door to the dryer the spider pops out and drops to the floor and starts walking away! I swear he was looking at me like "Is that all you got?" Now that is one tough spider! I get out of its way and open the door so he can go outside.

That is what I love about tough people, animals and now spiders. The real tough ones never have to tell you they are tough. They just are, and you notice. They say if you have to tell everyone how fast you are you probably aren’t very fast. In other words, let your riding (running or swimming) do the talking. “Less lip and more rip!”

Now trash talking falls into a whole different category. Trash talking amongst friends is a time-honored tradition. I’ll be the first to admit that if I could race as well as I trash talk I would be a Champion. I learned it from the long road trips in cramped cars with teammates. Just be careful that your mouth doesn’t write a check your legs can’t cash. I once told a guy I was going to “Tear off his legs and put them in my jersey pocket to send them home to his mama.” I even told him the climb I was going to do it on. Well I did pull it off that day and crushed him. A month later on a different climb the same dude dropped me so hard I would have had to dial a “1+ area code” to reach him on the phone. He was in another state by the time I caught my breath. It reminded me of another line I used during a group ride before work: “I’m going to check out on you like Motel 6, I’ll leave a light on for you.” Go ahead and use it sometime. No need to footnote me.

Yeah, I know…shallow like a kid’s pool. Rumor has it us “roadies” are like that. Last time I was at the doctors the technician wiring me up for an EKG (to check out my slow ticker) was chatting about cycling. He went on to say “You’re not one of those roadies are you? You know…the tight clothes with matching helmet and the Oakleys? I can’t stand those guys. They are so smug with their shaved legs and expensive bikes. What is it that you do again?”

I replied “I make Tommaso road bikes and to make matters far worse, I’m a triathlete.”