Back to Where I Belong

It has been 3 months, since they stole my Ibis Mojo. Gone with it - literally - is my mojo, too.

The thrill seems to be gone, as I replaced my passion for biking with the compulsion for working (my ass off). Besides going to the gym, I got into this windsurfing thing (again), which I love and duly practice, but mountain biking has always represented my spirit, my way of life and adventure. It triggers emotions you can't match with other activities.

Michael, one of my best friends, told me a few days prior to my 40th birthday, "Man, you seem to have lost it completely. You re not biking, you re not traveling, you re not writing, you disappeared. WTF has happened to you?"

I wish I knew. I wish it s over by now.

If anything, I definitely fucked up the last season and fucked up this summer as well. I didn't race the 24-hour-bike-marathon, I haven't been cranking my Gary Fisher since July. I blew up the summer.

I spent my time in the office vegging out in front of my iMac, daydreaming of better days to come. Outside Daily became Inside Daily somehow; instead of going out, I rather prefer to stew in the bloody gym with irregular, spotty sessions and keep on posting this pathetic BS here.

Enough said. Now it's time to wake up and sort things out.

No offense: Gym is always tidy and clean, but I can't really stand the seniors reading Doctor Zhivago at the same embarrassingly lame pace as they ride their stationary bikes. Gym-Ladies do not wish to sweat and my yoga session distresses more people than it relaxes me. I definitely need to go out again, that is where I belong.

Well said, but the summer is now long gone here, in the midst of zis german land. This is the rain season, the german monsoon. There will be more: Days will get darker and darker till we enter the Frank Miller stage. What a legacy.

This means, either you'll have to invest in outdoor gear stocks or be the He-Man and step into mud wrestling in the woods. The latter has been my case for the last 8 years and I have to take on from where I left last winter.

It hasn't been quiet under the hood as you might expect, but this is not an issue for the record.

So let me see which tyres suit best for the sludge and utilize some macho rock songs for burning my thighs - "I'm a Man" from Black Strobe for example.

Dope legally or bust! I just want my mojo back (yeah, literally)