C'mon Summertime!

I suffered a traumatic experience last week! My neighbor took his family on spring break vacation and asked me to feed his chickens. No sweat, I've done it on previous occasions. It seems the chicken population has grown since the last time I fed 'em.

On Tuesday, I leisurely walked across the street. Relaxed and enjoying the day, I fed the chickens. Then all of a sudden, a large rooster starts coming after me. WTF?! That son of a bitch attacked me! Clawed the hell out of my legs and pecked deep gouges with its beak. So I kicked the hell out of this thing to cease the attack! He came back at me 3 more times. Geez! I had no idea that I was going into battle when I went to feed 'em and that I would come back bleeding. I opened up the gouges and repeatedly poured rubbing alcohol into the wounds. I followed it up with plenty of neosporin. I really didn't want infections from this filthy bird. My legs oozed watery bloody stuff for the rest of the day. OF ALL the injuries I can sustain, it's a freaking rooster that takes me down??

The next day, I wore thick coveralls, leather gloves, and carried a broom handle. All went well, almost. As I'm walking away, I kept looking back. I was over 50 feet away and I turned around to see this guy hauling ass after me. This was after I fed the f**king INGRATE!! He caught a broom handle. He came back for more, 3 more times. I ended up breaking the broom handle on his ass! He HAD to be sore after the broom handle escapades.

After my neighbor returned home he said, "oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about the violent rooster, he's a real backstabber". No sh*t, you don't say! I'm gonna fire up the grill.

Because I've had a little Plantar Fasciitis deal, I decided to ride my bike, instead of run this past weekend. Other than Mountain Biking and Triathlons, I haven't ridden in any organized bike rides/races in probably 12 years. Once I caught the running bug, I wasn't interested. I decided to ride in the Tour de Houston. They offered distances of 20, 40, and 70 miles. I picked the 40 miler, that seemed perfect for having not been on the bike.


The cycling society is DIFFERENT than the running crowd! The athletes' physiques are surely different. There is a bunch of cycling etiquette, apparently. You only pass on the left, and must announce that you're passing on the left. One lady started bitching me out because I didn't announce it. Maybe if her slow ass was on the right side of the lane (where it belongs), there would be no problem. The second part of the "rule" is that if you're a slower rider, move to the right side of the lane! DUH! And there were 3 big crashes, where the crashed riders couldn't negotiate diagonal grooves in the pavement! Pay attention, y'all!

I WAS paying attention to the route signs, YET still ended up on the 70-mile course! I think the race organizers forgot to post ONE critical sign because I wasn't the only one wondering how we ended up on the 70 mile route. I din't want to ride 70 miles because I had lots of stuff to do on Sunday. So I broke off from the ride and "did my own thing" to get back to Downtown. I prolly ended up with 34-35 miles. A mountain bike would be much better suited for assaulting the urban terrain! Subsidence on the sidewalks in Houston? This was about 1 foot tall, the road bike had to go around it! Here:


On my interesting and now-solo journey to return to Downtown, I saw all sorts of cool stuff. I always envisioned "Reliant Stadium" being more impressive than what I saw:


Neat structure Downtown:


And finally, a DELICIOUS Rudy's breakfast taco with egg, cheese, brisket and salsa: