So there I was, sitting in wet clothes in a seminar after a 10 minute ride in increasingly heavy rain to get there. A nice coworker brought me a much needed takeout coffee from the the local starbucks to warm and awake me.
I get about an hour into the two of the talk and my attention flags. I look across my notes and over to the cup, and I see something like the following peeking under the cardboard javajacket:
Director sportif of the Toyota-United Pro Cycling team, motivational speaker and the only American to finish nine consecutive Tours de France.
How surreal I think. Not only is he fired from that job, he is kind of a weird person to be motivating from a starbucks cup. So I lift the cup from the carboard sleeve to see what he says, as I need some motivation. Frankie blasts forth with the following gem:
I’m a ketchup man for fries. In Belgium, it’s actually a struggle to find ketchup at the frite stands but it’s no problem to find vats of mayo. If you’re riding or racing, what the heck are you eating that stuff for anyway?
Well there we go then. I am a ketchup man for fries. Thanks Frankie. I am now psyched to go ride home in the disturbingly chilly rain now.
And he knows exactly why you are eating this stuff anyway. It is because you are carrying 2% body fat, are racing in the cold rain in belgium on roads covered in cow shit AND are highly likely to chew your own arm off if not fed soon after a race. See bonk induced dementia here.
Or at least he is (was) carrying 2% body fat. I am quite comfortable never venturing near the skeletor zone, yet still getting ravenously hungry post-ride/race and eating as I see fit to slake that need.
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