AppleFest
It has become very apparent to me that our world has been designed with the idea of suppressing the one-armed man. Want to open a can? Can opener’s need two hands. Floss your teeth, put on deodorant?
Dan So asked me today if I’m typing with one hand. The good news is that both my hands work fine. I am just unable to lift, strain, or really move my left arm at all. So, like a wheelchair dude crossing his legs, I flop my left hand up onto the keyboard, and have at ‘er. It’s about all I can do.
This is definitely not how I ever imagined ending my cycling season. I’ve ended with winning the final race a few times, but mostly having started racing in February I’ve been ready for a little R&R come September. This year, having laid low for a few weeks recuperating from RAAM, I was in the situation of being physically and mentally sharp for the final races of the season, and judging from the looks on my competitors faces, they weren’t.
I don’t drink very much water, but pee clear lots, I don’t eat much but I’m not hungry. The oddest part is that, as I’m starting my forced rest my body testosterone & hematocrit levels aren’t run into ground, and I still want to go for bike rides. I went to watch what would have been one of my final races of the season. Listening to the race on live radio I was going crazy, wishing I would have been there, telling where I would have attacked and won… Anyhow all I know is that after all the bikers cleared out, we actually had a decent party going at applefest, and it wasn’t too heavy on sausage. Still, by 8pm, it was me, the arch biker, and Mike Innes (say that 3 times fast) in the kitchen clearing up. 
I’ve been getting some welcome e-mails in the past few days regarding the Match.com account that some one set up for me. Here is a photo if you want to update my account. My ID’s Madison10bunnies if you want to look me up. I’m glad that they said I didn’t like smokers, though I’m not sure where Epsom NH is. If you want to update my account, here’s a photo you can use, and my birthday’s tomorrow, Sept 22.
I got a line from Laura warning me about how much better it is to be 25 than 26. You’re now essentially 30, and by then you’re ‘mid-life’ and supposed to have a house, family and job. You can’t goof off anymore. I’d guess this is partly why I’m signing up for school again.
Here’s a picture of Ruth rocking out some Pies 
Yeah we had lotsa big pie’s. The Archbiker does this every year, but last year the head chef was a little tipsy, and things tasted infinitely better this year.
Nat’s Mother Loves Him
Blah, blah blah. Blah nothing exciting blah, blah.
Got to go … blueberries are melting out on my bike. See you tomorrow.
Love, Mom
Yes, I knew it was true. My parents are coming down today, 10h car drive, to visit me because tomorrow’s my birthday. This is the first time that they’ve come to visit me, anywhere since I left the nest in 1996, so I’m pretty excited.
Mom’s 44 and married, Ruth is in her early 50’s…
OK I’m off to hang out with them. If you want to send fan mail to my mother, you can reach her via, faatnaat at Hotmail.com
