I’ve been trying for weeks to come up with something that seamlessly blends my newfound interest in training with my love of Clark Medal-winner Paul Krugman’s writings about the housing crisis (I also love his dreamy well coiffed beard). But my local anarchy store was all out of “my other pipe bomb is an exploding mortgage payment” bike stickers. So I did what I’ve been doing a lot of lately: I developed yet another training plan! I’ve developed my own “program” of Home For Sale Sprints, and they’ve been amazing for ...

It’s tax season, and sosovelo has decided to do what everyone else in the America does: invent tax loopholes to completely skirt social responsibility! This year, we’re gonna make like Elron Ubbard and talk a bunch of ballyhoo about life-forces and volcanoes, then tie the whole shebang back to bicycling before we wrap it up and call it a religion. So that we NEVER AGAIN have use pay taxes or spend our hard earned money on any of those bullshit roads or firetrucks or other public services. Today’s sermon? Faith ...

I really blew it late last year, blogging wise. It’s almost like my river of sarcastic things to say about cycling ran dry. I was left with only earnest sentiments like “These fenders sure do keep the rain off.” And, “Gosh, nothing funny happened on that ride.” Earnest bloggers are boring. But boring or not, I’m not going to miss my first annual list of stuff that is not cool in 2010! Guys peeing with one hand. This shit has got to stop. Yes, I know that holding your wiener with ...

OMG I’m blogging! I don’t know why we all suddenly became unable to write humorous stories about cycling. Maybe because there are only so many jokes one can make about amateur racing and recreational rides around Oregon. However, banking on the chance that all of the internet has forgotten said jokes during our 3-month moratorium of writing, I am ready to give this online essay-ery one more try. Since the last time I wrote (the riveting story of attending lectures) much has transpired. For one, my back is kind of better. I ...

As you, dear readers, have probably ascertained from an avid readership of sosovelo.com and my “articles” therein, I have back problems. Annoying back problems that moved in last July and refuse to vacate my premises. Back problems that I have tried hard to diagnose through a variety of medical and medical-ish practitioners. And here’s the bullshit they keep coming to me with: “We don’t know why you’re hurt. It will get better, but it won’t happen quickly.” So I still do my stretching routine, ride my books to school in my ...

Point your finger accusingly towards the center of a US map, and you’ll be pointing right at me. I’m a Midwesterner, once again, and after years of self-determined exile I’d like to posit the controversial opinion that it’s not so bad. I know, I know, that’s not what you thought I’d say. But hear me out—I’ve got a lot of complicated feelings on the matter. I live in a college town called Columbia, Missouri, which I’m constantly informed is an extremely liberal and accepting place. The disclaimer ...

After a month of backaches and inactivity, the day I had been dreaming about finally arrived: My back started feeling normal. I played it safe and took it easy for a few days, but after no changes for the worse, I triumphantly decided to begin riding a bike again. I threw some cruiser bars and flat pedals on my mountain bike to create, what I assumed was going to be, a veritable safety-mobile. Braving both a too-spinny-for-the-road gear ratio AND an apocalyptic heat wave, I happily set out to ride over ...

So, the other day I really messed up my back. I didn’t do it, as one would suppose, doing any of the many extreme sports I participate in. Nor did this injury occur during one of my many feats-of-strength moves: opening difficult jar lids, taking out the recycling, refilling and then reinstalling the water cooler bottle at work. No friends, this horrendous malady struck while I was having a picnic. There we were (Jesse, Zack, and I), just enjoying a bromantic sunset at the bluffs when a shooting pain struck the ...

I’ve seen the future, and it isn’t that cool. We’re getting dangerously close to 2015 of Back to the Future, and we have almost nothing to show for it. We were supposed to have some Jetson’s shit going, with conveyor belts and video phones and whiny robots that complain about cleaning up. Instead, I’ve got a rear cassette with three extra gears. THREE EXTRA GEARS. My bike was supposed to fly by now, god damn it! In the Terminator movies, Skynet became self aware in 1997. My Roomba is 10 ...

I don’t know why cyclists shave their legs. They seem to have a million reasons, each of them different, but I think they might all be stupid. The reasons, I mean. Not the leg shaving cyclists. They’ve got their motivations for being silky smooth, I assume. And since all of them are faster than me, I can’t really judge. Maybe hairlessness really does add 5mph in a wind tunnel. But while I feel the draw to cave into their peer pressure, I’m worried that shaving my legs will make me ...