So I headed out on Saturday morning to do the local House of Pain ride. But before I go, my wife hits me with, "you look heavier than normal." Alarm bells, whistles, loud horns immediately go off in my head. I quickly look at my self in the nearest mirror, and to my horror, I think she's right. There, in all my Pegasuarus kitted splendor, stood Fat Johnny. Not Phat Johnny, or Fat John the ultra skinny kid from your little league baseball team, but oh my god he's put on some weight from his last race Johnny. Crap. And I was already nervous about doing the ride as my legs have been worked over for the better part of a month with running and weights and long tempo rides. The last time I did a group ride, I was shot out the back so fast I thought I should give up, grab myself some black Performance generic bike shorts, an oversized (if possible) Postal jersey, one of those hook on your glasses rearview mirror things, and stick to the boulevard. In other words, my confidence was already in the gutter when my wife, in very subtle terms, told me I was fat. I wanted to grab a fritter, and a box of chocalates, and curl up on the couch with a good book. But I prevailed, and went out and joined the ride. To my shock and awe, I hung in there. There were some other Pegasuarus' on the ride and we kibitz a little about the trials and tribulations of training. When the ride was drawing to a close, they siddled up next to me and said, "looks like you are in better shape than you thought." Long way to go indeed. Even though I tell myself each off period, that the weight will stay off, it never does. And each time I start to train again, it seems that the speed will never come, and it always does. Patience grasshopper. Another hard week in front of me, but knowing that I'm not that slow in comparison to the group, adds a little motivation. Have a great week.

Johnny GoFat