Ah, the holidays. It's that 'special' time of year when if you are blessed with children like we are, they bring home lots of things:

a) The spirit of the holidays taking you back to the time you were a kid waiting with baited breath for the sound of sleigh bells...

b) Ebola viruses that make you feel cheerful and joyous as you try and sing Oh Holy Night with swollen tonsils and lymph nodes

c) Food...mainly of the chocolate covered variety that you want to bury your face in, consume and wash it down with a couple of Chimay tall boys.

Must....stay...monk-like. Must...keep...training....

Got back from lovely Toronto and had to squeeze in za plan for the day at lunch time. One hour of openers before the Bataan Death March training this weekend that T has in store for me. I got out on the roadie as the roads are in good shape....but as I type this the snows are coming down again. Perfect timing. The Hour of Power was filled with just enough to get the juices flowing in the legs. Small ring efforts for bursts incremented over the hour dosed in just the right amounts. One saw a 1400w peak which was surprising as I wasn't trying to go too deep so I hope the signs are there that what's being baked in by T is going to give me some level of respetcable performance in the mother land.

Riding today, I hooked up with Von and Nick doing base. God that looks....relaxing. 175w...no more...just rolling and talking. OK, it's 5 hours worth of work, but the likelihood of getting cross eyed or vomitous while doing it is null. Even still, I coerced Von to come along on my voyage and do some efforts. Ha! Sucker. Pulling back in the garage, though, I see the cross bikes hanging there and I just feel in my gut I'm not done with 'cross this year. August, September, October, November, December.... I WANT to be cross eyed in my work outs and get to Belgium....finally. One year of thinking and dreaming.

Cross is crack.