Occasionally, in a man’s life, he must pause for a moment of reflection. Not for too long, of course, because reflecting for longer than around thirty seconds could lead to having an emotion and those lead to poor choices and death. Like any of life’s pleasures, reflection must be strictly moderated lest we descend into madness and disarray. It goes without saying that there are a few exceptions, of course, such as booze, hard drugs, fatty foods, and sexual promiscuity, in which we are free to engage at liberty and without cost, but these are exceptions not the rule.
But lo, gentleman. I cry out to you in your moment of reflection, shining a guiding light and asking a few of your drug dealing prostitutes to please give us a minute. I know where you are because I have been there. You are wondering, simply, if you have perhaps gone insane.
First of all, let me just say that the answer is most likely a hearty “Nay!”, but I can also offer you an easy way to tell for sure. This works sort of like the “totem” in the movie Inception. Stand up, set your hard drugs and river of booze to one side, go to where you keep your bicycles, and look at them.
As an aside, if you don’t own any bicycles, then I’m afraid I cannot help you. You should really buy some bicycles.
Look again at your bicycles, — surely you have some by now — are any of them set up for participating in brevets?
In case you’re not familiar with the concept, let’s define “brevet”.
bre-vet’ – A long as balls cycling event thingy that is not a race which requires the participants to be completely out of their damn minds.
Here’s how to tell if you’ve been stricken by brevets. Just ask yourself these questions about your bikes:
- Are any of their frames titanium or steel? (*not mountain bikes)
- Do any of them have more than the normal amount of bottle cages?
- Are you out of your damn mind? (*trick question)
Now, I have ridden 125 miles in a day with some friends before, but I realized on the day that I did it that I had no desire to ride any farther. 125 miles is certainly at or very near the upper limit of what a sane, rational human being would want to ride in a day just for the shit of it. Granted, stage racers ride much farther for weeks on end, but that is their job and it’s to be expected. Also, they eat only heavily drugged meats to help fuel themselves, but most importantly, they are in a race.
I can understand going to great lengths and being willing to do irreparable damage to one’s self in a race situation — After all, how else can one be expected to win? — but just for giggles? Madness!
Those gone far down the road into brevet land are known to do 250 or even 300 mile days, thus proving to themselves and anyone who cares about them that their sanity has snatched at the front brake of the mind and tossed itself clear over the handlebars and into a crevasse, never to be seen again.
I only hope that these poor folks seek some help. If any of you find yourselves in such a dark place, please feel free to seek me out. I will provide whatever comfort and aid I can, trying my best not to shudder visibly or ask you repeatedly what the hell you were thinking.
Bah, three hundred miles.
The horror; I and my prostitutes can barely consume our hard drugs just thinking about it!