Yeah, I started a blog. I wear skinny jeans and race bikes. Are you surprised I have a blog? or are you more surprised it took me this long?
You know what you'll see very little of on my webular log? Bike racing. You don't care about my bike racing and I don't take it all that seriously. I just offed a bottle of wine--most of the reason I thought this was a good idea--about three minutes ago: not PRO. I race bikes because it's fast and I like the competition. There will not be any quasi-poetic, Rapha-esque essays about how hard it is to "train" or how much it hurt to finish with a mediocre result in whatever-race in whatever-town over the weekend. Do you care? No. Do I care? Not much. I ride my bike in the rain, does that make me tough? No. I rode my bike in a race, does that make me heroic? No.
Will I go PRO? Yes. Will my weblog have funny stories? Yes. Will you have the opportunity to critique my grammar, sentence structure, punctuation, and syntax? Yes. I prefer destructive criticism; you can't grow unless someone tells you where you're sucking.
Wow, I'm already rambling and I'm only twenty sevenish fragmented sentences into this thing. Not good.
Hear me now and believe me later: this is the best blog you'll ever infrequently read.
