Frozen Snot Century: What everyone else should know
[Three of my least favorite words, together at last...]
I mentioned the Frozen Snot Century in passing as something of an afterthought. I'm sorry, I should have known better: now for some reason I actually have readers, so immediately one or two people commented and wanted to know more about it. Now what?
Well, I regret to inform you all that I have no intention of going and thus know absolutely nothing about the Frozen Snot Century, aside from what I've read in a few BikeWinter message threads in between all the preoccupation with sex. (I kid, I kid.) Apparently TimeOut Chicago ran a feature on it last year:
An icicle built for two
It was in the sports section, so naturally I missed it at the time. (See my previous entry for a nice rant on that particular topic.)
Now, I couldn't ride a hundred miles in one shot to save my life, I get numb toes just walking across the U of C campus to Crerar, the Chicago-Milwaukee route is nothing I haven't already seen, and nothing in the world could convince me to take my bike on that godforsaken death trap known as Sheridan Road. But if that all sounds like your cup of tea, then you should know that John Greenfield (the Person In Charge) wants to reschedule the date for Saturday 3/8 to Sunday 3/9, and you really need to get in touch with him ASAP to RSVP because there are logistics that need to be settled. His Hotmail address is greenfieldjohn; please don't spam him, either. More info is theoretically available on the Chicago Bike Winter calendar.
In other news, my Achilles heel is flaring up again. So far it doesn't appear to be anything worse than skin-level irritation, but I'm still worried because I remember exactly what this leads to, and now it seems I'll have to deal with it every single freaking year from February to April unless I move somewhere that doesn't require wearing snowboots every day for months at a time. Or else I pay somebody hideously enormous amounts of money to knock me out and saw off a piece of bone in my foot (okay, it's actually a slightly more complicated procedure than that), and then I try to survive by myself for 3-4 months on crutches in a high-rise with chronically malfunctioning elevators. I know, nobody cares, but I need to whine somewhere. This really sucks.
But hey, at least I'm not in Missouri!