Warning: This post is pretty tame, but if you’re easily offended by jokes about bike chaffing and all that goes with it, you probably should go over to this site.

Well, I’m catching a lot of heat from my training partners these days.  Why?  Because I am reticent to partake on occasion.

Tomorrow, we’re slated for a 3 hour trainer ride and my “plan” is to show up an hour late because, frankly, that is an hour longer than I’ve done in my life on a stationary bike.  And while they are calling this the “building phase” I feel like I have a little more work to do on the basement before putting up the framework.

Even mild mannered Kevin got involved in the skewering with this text: “That’s alright, Mike.  I hear all the greats skip the base period of training.  They jump right to peak workouts.”

He has a great point!  But you know what?  The greats will be sucking my d*ck in September!

Okay, sorry.  I had a brief stint of cocky-ridden angst, that I will try to control for the rest of this post because it involves a slippery subject, butter.

Yes, ass butter has changed my life!  (When’s the last time you heard that sentence?).

I finally got on board with “Shammy Butter” last night and am praising the heavens. I relayed my enthusiasm to Jim and he said, “You should try that butter when you’re riding.”  Ha.  Good one!

I was getting a little concerned because the bike is my “strong event” and I was really having trouble peddling for more than an hour, but mainly because of that undefined sensitive area has to really wonder what the fuck I am doing to it every time I jump on this bike!

But now . . .

I rattled off a nice 1:30 ride last night and barely noticed my “spot” (though it might have been partially due to the captivating lesbian-art-film I cued up).  So, yeah, it was a power gear session and I felt incredibly strong (almost like I could have gone for 3 hours), which of course gave me confidence again.

Speaking of confidence, it really takes something to walk up to another dude in a bike shop and talk about spreading cocoa butter on your ass and balls.  It’s a little disturbing how comfortable these types of conversations are becoming.

“Hey man, how’s your rash?”

“Fucking awesome, I lubed up a muddling tool and rolled it around my nuts for an hour.”

“Sweet, that sounds amazing!”

“It was!”

Anyway . . . So, the jury is still out on the morning bike.  I guess I’ll make that decision after TONIGHT’S bike workout.  I am also contemplating an outdoor ride tomorrow, but I know my training partners are too wuss to ride in cool weather.

Butter My Balls

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