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I'm hanging on.  I'm holding to the past.

I'm trying to recover things long gone.

Back when I was fit and fast and healthy and bikes were the center of my life.

Those days are gone.

Accept it.

The bike doesn't define you now and it didn't define you then.

I started writing about bikes a long time ago when racing and training and fitness mattered a lot more than it does now.  

Those things don't matter all that much anymore.  I don't particularly care about riding anywhere but in the dirt.  Road bikes don't interest me much anymore.

Time to move on.  Time to stop judging today based on what I used to be.  Those days are gone.  They're over.

And so is this blog.

As it turns out...

...I'm not a prolific writer. 

Decent writer, yes.  Maybe even good at times,  But prolific?  Nope.

I go thru spells.  Manic writer?  Perhaps.

These days I just don't have much to say.  I have my thoughts and opinions on many things but I'm not always interested in sharing.  I suppose I could.  But I won't.

I still haven't been able to get into a rhythm of riding this year.  Very weird.  I want to, that's for sure.  I hate being fat and out of shape.  But something is holding me back.  I feel...tired, bored, almost indifferent as if I need a drastic change of scenery, of venue.

Maybe I'll move to the mountains.  Buy some land and live in this:

Or this:

Both are excellent options.  Some insulation and a wood burning stove and I'm good to go. 

Though I don't like going outside to take a dump.  I'll need a composting toilet.  A big one because I don't want to empty that bastard every week.

And I'll need a power option.  A few solar panels and some batteries should do the trick.  Just enough power for the beer fridge and a bare bulb where I'll sit and write angry letters to the government.

Or maybe not.  I don't really have that much to say.