The winter training season is upon us, and that means one thing—the return of my training log. Traditionally, my training log has less to do with dispensing training advice or discussing whether one should consider finally weighing one’s own bowel movements as it is about making poop jokes (and I’ve just notched up one of those, thank you very much) and typing about bikes to preserve my sanity as I trudge through the winter bike season—the most daunting bike season of all. Well, daunting unless you live in a temperate region where the difference between winter and summer bike season is about 10 degrees—because you people don’t qualify as “real” bike racers. Sorry, but that’s the trade off you make for living in bike paradise, didn’t anyone tell you about this rule before you moved?

My training log has a long history of growing more and more obtuse as the season wears on, so let me explain a few things. Firstly, I employ a self-shaming weight scale infograhic to try and keep my winter weight gain under control. In year’s past, I’ve used scales based on people (Val Kilmer), rodents (capybaras and such) and rodent people (Steven Seagal). I feel no need to update my scale this year, as a Seagal-based weight system seems quite apt. Sadly, I have no weight to report this week, as I am unable to get to my bathroom scale due to a wet coat of urethane placed on our stairs, but as soon as that dries, I will be able to show you my weight in the most Seagal-est of terms.

I also do not participate in “cross” during the off-season, because it would necessitate: buying another bike, driving long distances to race and racing—which I prefer to not do in the fall months. I am not anti-cross, I just choose to not participate. I am cross agnostic in that way. Plus, it purposefully gets dirt on your clean bike underwear. Let me say that again. Dirt. On. Your. Bike. Underwear.

I also have a new bike this year, it is a Felt F1 in Team Rockstar livery, it is an outstanding bike, and I eagerly await the day when it’s finally painted. Since I have a new bike, I will probably need to be fitted to it, but I am lazy and thrifty, so I will be holding that process off for a while (those urethaned steps aren’t going to pay for themselves)— there are a total of two places in the NYC area that would consider going to for such a fitting, I will keep those names to myself to build an irresistible drama as the winter wears on. Plus, I may just cheap out and not get fitted at all, that is an entirely viable option.

So I invite to join me in my pretend wonderland of bike racing this off-season. Watch as I build up the base miles of delusion necessary to once again wake up at 4:30 on a March Saturday morning to watch those younger and faster than I prance away to glory.