Ouch and oof and aye-aye-aye!

I have seriously upped my training. It's hard to always find the time to ride, but I have been riding every day. I'm trying to mix up my routes, take some hills or some longer rides, or just go slow (like this morning...when slow felt like the only alternative to backwards.) Riding on the roads around Duluth gives you quite a varied experience (and I don't mean multi-culturally, although that could be accurate too.) To give you an idea of what I mean, Brad and I set off last night for a ride. He quickly mentioned that he wanted to steer clear of certain roads. (Roads I take practically every day, by the way.) Apparently he is not too fond of the surface conditions. I can't say I blame him. Those of you who aren't from Duluth, may not realize just how bad potholes can be in a place that's frozen seemingly nine months out of the year. Travelling some roads is literally like picking your way through a mine field. But, I believe in the old adage that "what does not kill us, makes us stronger." Or at least it puts callouses on our bums. We'll show those East Coast riders how to handle a washboard road!!!! I am regulary cursing at the painful beating I have been taking from these roads. (Embarrassingly, sometimes in front of others. Including children. I'm not proud of it.) In my defense, it is impossible not to let out a few choice phrases when your teeth are rattling and you are concerned about possible spinal cord injury! I am well acquainted with the local vernacular use of Uff-Da!!!! Or even better: Uff-Da Yay!!!(Which I have quickly and strangely modified into my own version: Uff-Da Oy!!!) I feel that this better expresses my East Coast roots. So, yes, last night we circumnavigated the worst parts and had a nice, smooth, and fast ride. But, being a glutton for punishment, this morning I got up and went for a little bone-crushing-joint-jolt riding. As my friend Corey (that's twice you've made it on here, man!) my bike guru has pointed out, I am seriously decreasing the resale value of my bike. I can only imagine what that means about my own personal resale value. Brad, you're stuck with me...even if all this riding just keeps making me shorter! Soon I'll be a head with shoes.