Demian Seale

Well the family was the theme this past weekend. My mum and stepdad visited from the interior for a couple of days. That was very nice. We saw each other for coffee and dinner; the first evening was ate at the luscious Luciano’s, and the next, the ever-reliable Pagliacci’s. Luciano’s was far better, actually; although, I confess no one ate anything greasy at Pags, which is/are their specialty. The bread was awesome,as per usual. I left them at their own devices during the day, as that is sort of what my mum, prior to arrival, had hinted she’d prefer. I was able to make some good suggestions so I think they were very happy and relaxed by the whole experience. I question their choice to stay in the infamous, and infamously creepy Surf Motel; but other than that, I had a lovely time visiting them.

In the meantime, my dad returned from his honeymoon in Vegas. Poor dad, he is ever so much like me: overabundance, overstimulation and large crowds all make him tense. Susan must have had a good time though — it is just very nice to see him married and so happy. I confided all my woes to him, all the weird caprices the universe has played against me this summer so far. You do create your own reality, but when possessions start breaking randomly, you wonder: is God beaming me some signal, some cipher for which I lack the encryption. I keep interpreting it as “YOU SUCK!” I’m told that’s not healthy.

In truth, I’ve had a rather abysmal time on all fronts, family and friends, school, athletics, and work. Especially, I suppose, in school and on the bike. I will soldier on. The 450 dollar hit on my alternator busting was quite the last straw, I must say. After that the only anodyne was Will Ferrell’s delicious new absurdity, Step Brothers. Thank the sweet lord and even sweeter little baby Jesus for Will Ferrell and Adam McKay.

I will have more coherent postings to come, and more details on my training. So far it seems to be comprised of fairly intense, short intervals followed by days and days of recovery and rest. It is not really what I had expected or wanted in a training regime. And the more I ride, the greater the feeling that perhaps I can — with a little work — carve out my own training regime which would take advantage of the power tap, but would also pay attention to both my physical sensations, and my happiness. Riding 5 to 6 hours a week and pretending I’m a serious athlete seems absurd to me. I expect I’ll just have to take it up with my coach and see what his rationale is.