ACK! <scramble, scramble>
Yep - I've been caught unprepared again this week. There's been a lot going on "behind the scenes" as it were, so I didn't have time to do a heavily-detailed Thursday Thirteen this week. I'm afraid I'll have to repeat a theme I've done before, but with new material. (Does that make sense?)
So here are
13 Photos Currently
Inspiring My WiP
 The Leopard Trek team at the Tour Down Under last January. 1) A morning briefing. This is a good example of the stuff most people don't think about when it comes to this sport. There is more to it than getting on the bike and going faster than everyone else (though that helps, of course). The tactics and strategy for stage races can be surprisingly detailed, and the riders meet to discuss the race before and after every stage.
 Heh. *ahem* 2) Prepping for the race. Numbers have to be pinned on to jerseys before the riders can get dressed for the race.
 Fabian Cancellara. I wuv him. (Look at that HAIR!!!) 3) More preparations - that helmet has to fit properly, after all - and as always: Safety First!
 Smmmmooooch! 4) A quick peck for your sweetie, and then...
 Um... What? Did someone say something to me? 5) Waiting to start the race. Seriously, for the material I'm working on, this is more than sufficient for inspiration. ;)
 Whoooosh! 6) They're off! Of course, this would likely be well into a stage. I love the movement in this pic.
 He's silly. Wuv. 7) Lunch time on-the-go! Things can get a bit silly, too, at this point during a race. Just about everyone takes it easy while they refuel. Or, at least, they should.
 A little to the left, please... Ah, that's the spot! 8) Actually, in a race everything has to be done on-the-go, whenever possible. Here my boy Fabian gets his shoe adjusted while discussing race matters with (presumably) his directeur sportif.
 Definitely not in the plan. 9) Occasionally, of course, things don't go quite according to plan...
 I mean, seriously. Look at that road. Now enjoy Fabian's legs. 10) This photo is providing much inspiration at the moment, as I'm working on a Stage featuring a crash modelled after a) what has been called the "Stockeau Massacre" in the 2010 Tour de France and b) the following day's ride over the cobblestone roads which normally feature in the Paris-Roubaix classic road race each year.  Just so... Intense. Rawr. 11) Fabian again - this time in Time Trial mode. The picture isn't exactly clear because it's a screen capture. But it's an excellent screen capture, IMHO. It really conveys the intensity of the moment.
 I'm wandering toward my happy place. Excuse me. 12) The boys have to make themselves presentable before they go on the podium. They get wiped down and cleaned up (I can't help thinking of racehorses when I see video of this. Is that wrong?), are given a fresh jersey, and then go out to be photographed with the pretty girls in front of the fans.
 Jens Voigt, chatting while getting his post-race massage. 13) A very useful photo. Without shots like this, the little details would get past me: note the placement of the blanket, the towels, the slow-cooker on the table (presumably to heat the oil before it's applied). Excellent stuff.
And there you have them - 13 Photos Currently Inspiring My WiP.
I know, I know...
After all the boys on bikes, you want something else.
And it's only fair.
So here ya go:
 Will this do? Ciao for now!
Welcome back for another installment of the Thursday Thirteen!
This week's post is actually writing-related, and I've been building it (very) slowly over the course of the last couple of months. So, why delay any longer? Here we go with
13 Frequently Misused/Confused Words
1) It's "Congratulations" NOT "Congraduations".
To be honest, this is one which almost breaks my heart. Thanks to Hallmark and their decision to put a bit of wordplay on cards meant for high school and college graduates, we now have a great many people who think "Congraduations" is how we congratulate people on any given accomplishment.
Please stop doing this. I will congratulate you for it. Otherwise...
 Naughty-naughty! 2) It's "Definitely" NOT "Definately" or "Deafenitly" or any other variation.
I would like to blame David Gilmour for this, in part, thanks to the track called "Deafinitely" on his 1978 solo album. Unfortunately, this error is becoming more widespread each year, it seems. Grrrr... Just remember: if something is "definite" it is "finite" in space/time.
 Side Two. Track number four. Shame on you, David. Look what you've done. 3) "Hanger" and "Hangar".
A "hanger" is what you put clothes on. A "hangar" is where you keep an airplane.
 HangEr.  HangAr. 4) "Rein", "Reign" and "Rain".
Okay, this is a biggie. A "rein" is part of a horse's harness. To guide, slow or stop a horse, you pull on the "reins". To bring a situation under control, you "rein it in".
A king or queen, however, has a "reign" (think "sovereign") (Middle English regne, from Anglo-French, from Latin regnum, from reg-, rex king).
"Rain" falls from the sky.
 Reins.  Rain.  Reign(ing). 5) Peak, pique and peek.
Three very different words with very different meanings. A "peak" is the top of something, say a mountain or the roof of a house (stand on the peak of a mountain and gaze down at the world"). To "pique" is to irritate, instigate or arouse an emotion, or is the state of emotion which follows this (a fit or state of pique). To "peek" is to steal a glance, to peer at something ("I took a quick peek but saw nothing").
 Peak.  Gerard Pique. (Just making sure you're paying attention.)  Peek-a-boo!!! 6) "Break" and "Brake".
"Break" means something goes to pieces or someone is going easy on you ("give me a break!"). "Brake" means to slow something down, or the object used to slow something down.
 Break. (Actually, 'broken' but you get the idea.)  Brake. (Car)  Brake. (Bicycle) 7) "Heroin" and "Heroine".
That "e" makes a big difference. "Heroin" is a drug. The "heroine" is the female lead of a story.
Please help stop the insidious spread of this increasingly common mistake.
 Heroin.  Heroine. 8) "Might" and "Mite".
"Might" is power, or means something could possibly happen. ("Mighty" is the adjective form of this word.)
A "Mite" is something very, very small.
 Mighty Mouse has might. He might win the day!  Mite. Much smaller than Mighty Mouse. 9) "Your" and "You're".
"Your" means that you own something: Your car is a mess! Your house needs painting, etc.
"You're" is the contraction of "You are": You're looking good! You're going where?
10) Dilute and delude.
To "dilute" or to be "diluted" means to be watered down or spread out.
To "delude" or to be "deluded" means to be fooled or to confuse (directly related to "delusion/delusional").
 Dilute.  One deluded puppy. 11) "Clamor" and "Clamber".
To "clamor" is to shout or make noise. To "clamber" is to climb or struggle over an obstacle.
12) "Passed" and "Past".
Past is a time reference, used to indicate occurences in time prior to the present. "Oh, that's history. It's in the past." Alternately, past is used as an adverb: "He went past at a high rate of speed."
Passed means having traveled beyond something in physical space. "He passed me on the right! That's illegal!"
(There's a lot more to these two, but we'll stop here for the sake of space.)
13) "Bawling" and "Balling".
If someone is crying loudly, they're "bawling".
"Balling" is frequently used as a sexual euphemism, and thus is rather jarring if it appears in the wrong place.
 Bawling.  Did you really expect a photo for 'Balling'? Tsk.
All righty then. I feel better after getting that off my chest.
I'm sure many of you understand, and probably agree.
I appreciate that, truly.
And while we're on the subject of getting things off our chests...
 Aren't we happy *he* did? Ciao for now!
There are people who are surprised by how much attention I'm currently giving to details in my WiP, 27 Stages. I am teased on a regular basis about the research I'm doing (real and fanciful), because I clearly enjoy cycling so much. Well, there are many reasons I'm putting so much time and effort into this project. Not only is cycling a passion of mine (at least, as a spectator), not only do I want to write the best possible story I can and not only do I want people to read this and really and truly feel like they are there...I also don't want a review like this:Zosia's Review of Amorous Liaisons.It's not that I feel the review is in any way unfair - far from it, in fact. I think Zosia has legitimate gripes and complaints. Absolutely legitimate. While the author of Amorous Liaisons seems to have done some research, it would seem she didn't dig quite deep enough. Granted, I don't have an in-depth/expert knowledge of ballet, but even I know (courtesy of a brief but intense love of the art while I was in my teens) some of the things this author got wrong.My point being - when it comes to research, I think it's vital to go the extra mile. Don't sell your audience short. Don't skim over details which are important to the plot. Don't assume they won't catch if you're bluffing.Because they will.Knowing that a good portion of my target audience will, at the very least, be familiar with le Tour de France, I know I have to maintain a certain level of realism and detail in 27 Stages. If I don't, they'll catch me out on the big things. The members of my audience who know more about cycling (perhaps are even riders themselves) will pick on the smaller details, the lesser-known things. I know it. I expect it. And I hope I can write this book well enough to avoid it. At least somewhat.The only way to do this is to write to the best of my ability, to find common ground for everyone and to do as much research as I possibly can. And, in the meantime, I need to create a story that'll suck everyone in so they don't care if/when I go a little wrong. Cross your fingers for me. I could use the luck.And now, I've got to go do some research.
Where does the time go? As usual, I've been caught unprepared - so here's a totally random collection for you all:
13 Random Thoughts
1) How do I keep forgetting the Thursday Thirteen? What's up with that? Or more to the point, why do I think about it and then forget it? Hmmm...
 2) I've got to find a way to use this in the story. Ouch!
3) I've got to find a way to WORK on the story. ACK!
 Blurry or not, this photo kills me. NOM! *happy sigh* 4) ACK! Team "Leopard" presentation is tonight! TONIGHT!!! WheeEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
5) Urp. Maybe a serving spoon of cheesy rice and then a bowl of Coco Pops wasn't the best lunch co-ordination I could have managed this afternoon. I'm definitely NOT a teenager anymore.
6) Sometimes, nothing cheers one up quite like blasting Falco's "Der Kommissar". Too bad I don't understand a word of it. Or would that make it less fun?
7) Time for the video! Wooo-hoooo!!!!
8) Thanks to my mother, I'll never again be able to listen to Muse's "Time is Running Out" without hearing Matt Bellamy's huge "whoop" before every line. Grrrrr...
 For reals, yo. 9) Oh. My...
Fabian in a suit and tie with floppy hair.
If he put on glasses I think I'd spontaneously combust.
For reals.
10) If I weren't married to the most patient man in the world, my crushes would surely drive him nuts. <see above and below>
 Yes, it's true. It's all my fault. 11) "You go out there right now and make her leave."
"Listen, Bjarne, buddy - if I go out there, she'll NOM my leg. Again. You tell her to leave, or I'll go join the Schlecks - and the rest of the guys!"
12) I should get back to work. That story won't critique itself.
 13) Thank god cycling season is getting rolling again. I need to do some, ah, research. Yeah, that's it. Research.
And there you go.
Another frightening look inside my head.
You should have known what to expect by now, shouldn't you?
And to my usual Thursday visitors I say, "Don't worry."
I just need to focus.
And while this isn't *quite* to my taste....
I reckon it'll be okay.
 *ahem* Ciao for now!
Well, here we are, on the verge of a New Year, releasing the old and making way for the new, and so on and on.I find myself staring down my current WiP, 27 Stages and trying to get the next chapter to unfold. Or, rather, I'm trying to get the current chapter to wind up so I can move on to the next chapter. This is the sort of thing writers deal with on occasion, I suppose: stubborn words, stubborn images, etc. You see, it's not that I don't have more to write for this story. The problem lies in the fact the images which are coming to mind fall into one of the following categories: a) They aren't from the chapter I'm presently attempting to complete. b) They have little – if anything – to do with the story I'm working on. c) They would be better placed in another part of the manuscript. d) They almost certainly won't survive the final cut, and their inclusion in this manuscript would muddy the waters more than is strictly necessary. And so I sit, type out a little, backspace over it and start over. Repeat. Repeat again. Then I pack it in, frustrated until another idea comes to mind and I open the WiP and make another attempt. GrrrrrRRRrrrrr… Federico and Abby are still there, demanding my attention, speaking up at the most inopportune times and making me wish I had the ability to write directly out of my subconscious onto the document on the computer. My focus is wonky, refusing to clarify and permit me to slip into 27 Stages' world again for more than a few moments at a time. I need to rest, but as soon as I do something else, the voices are loud and clear, but they only remain so as long as the computer is off and the WiP is out of reach. But there's good news, too. Last night, I dreamed of a race. I dreamed I spent time talking with the riders, but Federico wasn't there for me. I caught glimpses of him, but he wouldn't look my way. I reckon he will before long. I sought Abby in the crowd before the dreamscape shifted and changed, taking me somewhere else. Hopefully next time she'll join me for a few minutes. We have a lot to talk about. One thing is certain: I miss our chats. On a pleasing note: I sold a copy or two of Ask Me if I'm Happy on the Kindle recently. At least, I know of a couple of purchases, and they led to an upward swing from 229,283 all the way up to 95,961 in just two days. I'll take that for the time being. Now if I could just find a way to get Amazon to quit saying the book isn't available when it is, I'd be in "business"…
As I start to write this, it is 10:30 in the morning. In twenty-four hours I'll be waiting to board my flight (a whole two-hour journey) to London out of Bologna.
My bags are almost completely packed (just a few items to go).
I've read and re-read my excerpts for the readings until I'm nearly sick of seeing 'em.
I've decided on my outifits for the launch and the readings. (Dressy, not fussy; quite "me", really.)
When Alle and I arrive in London, we'll find my mother and my friend who are waiting for us there (their flight gets in earlier), and we'll get them to the hotel. We'll rest, have dinner, and then?
My nerves will start kicking in and I'll become a chattering, blithering idiot, most likely. LOL! Not that anyone can tell the difference, I reckon.
No, I'm sure we'll have a quick toddle around our neighborhood before we retire to our rooms, chat and then get some rest. Thursday morning, to one degree or another, my London adventure will begin. I hope things go smoothly, and that I don't actually make a fool of myself in front of anyone.
To quote the Grateful Dead (and when you think London, don't you just think of Jerry and the gang?) "What a long, strange trip it's been..." I mean, I started out writing this little short story which I initially meant to be just for me and mine, and instead it became something much, much bigger - both literally and figuratively.
In the end, a story about Bologna is taking me to London, and then back home again where the real world will intrude once more - and regularly at that. I'll have to look on the next ten days as something out of the norm, and cross my fingers and hope and wish and pray that all goes as well as it can.
And then I'll have to knuckle down and get to writing again. I want to see where the next story takes me.
I've really got to learn to multi-task better. I'm struggling daily with my wordcount for 27 Stages, thanks to my preparations for my trip to London and doing what promotional work I can from home for Ask Me if I'm Happy. Strangely, I've had a couple of opportunities in recent days to refer to myself as a writer. As in, "I am a (soon-to-be) published writer." It felt good, but a little strange - kind of like one's first real kiss. It's wonderful and exciting and a little bit off, somehow. In a delightful, happening-to-someone-else sort of way.Or was that just me?Hmph.I think the reason it's taking some adjusting is the fact I've always said I was a writer. I've believed it in my heart of hearts from a pretty young age. It's only now that other people are conceding the point in a real way.And then there's the sense of unreality that comes from this phrase:"I am a writer and I live in Italy."There's so much weight in those words, it's almost inconceivable to me how to make them mean what I want them to. Because when I say "I am a writer and I live in Italy", people get all sorts of wrong ideas. They imagine that I don't have a "real" job. They think I don't need one. They think I live in a place full of warmth and sunshine year-round. They think I live in a Tuscan villa, complete with vineyards and/or olive groves. They think I have an airy apartment filled with light. They think I live a glamourous lifestyle, sipping wine on a balcony which overlooks rolling hills, while I wear some sort of designer frock. The reality is far different.I have a "real" job. I teach English to Italians at a language school in the city where I live. Yeah, the job can be fun sometimes, no doubt about it - I've probably mentioned some of my students here before, and how much I adore them - but it's still work, with all the bureaucracy and paperwork any teaching job entails.My writing hasn't made me rich. The book isn't even out yet, remember? (November 15th is coming soon, though! Not that I'll be "rich" anytime in the near future. Heh.) Reggio nell'Emilia is a sunny place - in Spring and Summer, anyway. In Autumn and Winter, however? Not so much. It's rainy, it's cold and it's very foggy. Which is one reason I love it so much here. It suits me and my creative energies.I most definitely don't live in a Tuscan villa, or sit on a balcony overlooking rolling hills, vineyards or olive groves. These are the views from my balcony. I don't see any vineyards, do you? Some folks - including my husband - don't understand why I might want to correct the misinformation about my life or my lifestyle - such as it is. I think I do this because I want people to see that I'm the same person I've always been. I'm not particularly lucky, or blessed, even though I am.
Does that make sense?
I'm here because of chance, and because I followed my heart and did what I had to do in order to be happy. I took chances, and chance took me where I needed to be, so I could tell the story I needed to tell and find more stories when that one was finished.
I'm here because I was open to the possibilities which lay before me. I'm here because a real gem of a guy caught my eye when he slipped under the radar of women who were too focused on the flashy guys around them. Their loss, my gain, thank you very much. This is the payoff for ignoring the superficial and appreciating the substance of a real man.
I have friends who envy my living here in Italy. Sometimes I don't know why, but I suspect it's because of those words I mentioned. For the record, my life is no different here than when I'm in the States, in many ways. I write, I work, I do laundry, I cook dinner and clean the catbox (not at the same time). I grouse about politics with friends. I complain about the potholes in the road and the fact people can be so darn rude! Argh!
I miss home a little bit, every single day. I miss my family, and my friends. I miss the view of the mountains from my mom's back porch. I miss being able to find clothes in my style and size. I miss US junk food and television and driving myself around (I don't have an Italian driving license - another story for another time). I miss a lot about the US, but overall, it's just like here, in Italy.
Wherever I am, it's just life. And yes, life is beautiful. Life is strange, and life is hard wherever you are.
It's all in how you choose to look at it.
While I'm running around like a madwoman trying to get everything in order before I head to London for the launch of Ask Me if I'm Happy in November, I thought I'd jump on here and share
13 Things I Have to Do
by November 10th!
 This is what happens when stylists go wild. 1) Cut my hair. Seriously, this mop atop my head is getting outta control.
2) Write blogs. Lots and lots of blogs. Harder than it sounds, because I'm still trying to..
 'Inspire!' 3) ...Work on 27 Stages in the midst of all the Ask Me... promotion work.
 My family. How adorable are they, eh? 4) Rest! I've got to rest, so I don't get sick before I go.
5) Practice reading out loud. I have got to practice this, so I'm not stumbling over my words, getting my tongue tangled 'round my eye teeth so I can't see what I'm saying. Argh!
 6) Get used to bundling up. The cold has come in quick, it seems. Actually, it's no worse than any other time, I'm just so used to being ensconced in my flat I only get out occasionally to feel the weather for myself.
I know, I know, I should be punished severely for this.
7) I have to figure out what I'm wearing while I'm in the UK.
8) I have to plan which events which clothes are for.
9) I have to try them all on to be sure they still fit. Ack.
 Doodle!!! 10) I have to pack them.
Easier said than done.
11) I have to get a cable for the computer so I can just plug in to UK outlets without an adapter.
12) I have to find a shorthand way of describing the story of Ask Me if I'm Happy - or at least, I have to find a way to keep from blathering on and on and... And, last but most certainly not least...
 13) I have to spend some time with my good friend Laura, who's back in Italy for a short visit. Luckily, she's here before I leave! (and hopefully she won't see this pic before she goes! LOL!)
I've got a lot to get done!
And so little time to do it in!
And yet, I can always find a little time...
for a little rugby.
 Hey-Oh!!! Ciao for now!
Everyone's source of inspiration is different.
This week, I thought I'd share a little about how "Ask Me if I'm Happy" came about. In some ways, it's just like most people believe it would be:
I got an idea, and I wrote it down. It took two years of writing to get the whole idea down, though. And then it morphed and changed and became something very different from what I'd initially imagined.
It almost always does. Change, I mean.
The origin of the story was this: I watched an episode of Samantha Brown's Passport to Europe which took place in Bologna. There is a segment in that episode where she visits with a Bolognese family for dinner, and while I listened to them talking to her, I felt suddenly homesick. Or more accurately, I felt homesick for my students at the school where I teach. The Bolognese accent is different from a Reggiano accent, but the similarities were strong enough to bring my students to mind.
I continued watching the show, and started pondering what it would be like to have a native Bolognese taking me around the city. I love Bologna, and have loved it since I first visited with my husband several years ago. I go to the bookshops there, I have seen a couple of concerts there, and I just love the general atmosphere of the place.
Anyway, that night, I had a dream which took place in Bologna. It was a dream of the "Watching it on a movie screen" variety, where I was not an active participant, just a viewer. I saw a handsome man meet a plain but pretty woman on a train. I saw the newspaper headlines proclaiming a transportation strike, which kept her in the city. I saw him take her to lunch, and then seduce her, only to find his own personal conflict emerge when she left him. The would-be Casanova was caught in his own trap, and his prey escaped to return to her former life in another place.
The images stayed with me all day long. The sexy, sensual edge of the dream's images wouldn't leave me alone. This was a story I needed to write.
And someday, I might write it, too.
Instead, as I sat down and put pen to paper, the characters made themselves heard. Davide (as he was called) insisted that he wouldn't do such things. He was a nice guy, not a love-em-and-leave-em sort. Emily (as she was always called) said much the same. She was shy, and lacked self-confidence, and no matter how mad she was at her husband she wouldn't just run off for a dalliance with a stranger.
I had to change almost all of the story. I wrote it as a short story - roughly fifteen or twenty pages - called it "Lo Sciopero" (the Strike) and worked on it for the rest of my stay in the States. Now Davide was a gallant stranger offering Emily assistance when her trip to the US was complicated by the strike. He was a perfect gentleman who showed her the tenderness she needed to get past a difficult moment in her life, and nothing more.
But that didn't quite work either. I had to write more. And more.
And more.
The kernel of truth in the first version of the story survived. A friend critiqued it and made a suggestion which pulled the whole thing together. But the short story became a novella, and then the novella grew.
Davide insisted on telling more of the story. "You're not finished yet! What about what happened in Milano? What about when I came home?"
"Yeah!" Emily cried. "What about when I went home? What about the messages we wrote each other? What about...? What about...?"
Fine. I wrote it all down. I finished the tale two years after I started, after changes and rewrites and edits and agonizing hours spent deciding what could be cut, and what I believed needed to stay. And then cutting some of that, anyway.
An entire novella was added, then axed. With more work, I'll probably offer that separately, as a story of its own.
And, yes, there's much more to this process. This is just an overview. No story just "flows" out of a writer - well, maybe for some. Maybe when I've been writing steadily for a couple more years, I'll find the process easier. I doubt it, though. After all is said and done, this is me offering a piece of me to the audience, and that's never an easy thing to do.
But I can't stop doing it.
I hope you don't mind...
Hello, all! Thanks for coming by this week.
Once again, cycling is the theme of this Thursday Thirteen. Next week I hope to have a different subject for you, but this week, I'm sticking with the tried-and-true. I hope you'll bear with me, 'cause I've got my WIP, 27 Stages, on the brain. That's a good thing, right?
And so, I present to you: Thirteen Photos Currently Inspiring Me
 1) Fabian Cancellara, waiting as an official counts down at the start of a time trial. This was actually a key source of inspiration for the first Stage of the story.
 2) Inside the SaxoBank team bus. Very inspiring, particularly when writing scenes showing the team traveling in-between stages.
 3) Fabian Cancellara's leg. Umm...yeah. I think the pic says it all, really. Quite inspiring.
 4) Cyclists on holiday, sporting their "Cyclists' tan lines." I find this shot incredibly endearing. And inspiring.
 5) God bless Tim de Waele. He got this shot of Fabian Cancellara during the Tour of Oman. (Did you know there was a Tour of Oman? Now you do. It started this year.) Very, very inspiring. ...sigh...
 6) Fabian Cancellara, again. (Have you spotted a trend, yet?) Here he's toting his stuff around. Ah, yes... He's a down-to-earth kinda guy. And that's inspiring, no?
 7) Fabian Cancellara (center) during a rainy stage. (I believe it might have been a Tour of California a couple of years ago, but I'm not entirely sure.) Nevertheless, I find the smiles here very inspiring.
 8) Fabian after winning the maillot jaune in a stage of the Tour de France last year. Endearing, and exceptionally inspiring.
 9) Jimmy Engoulvent (in green) takes a fall during le Tour in 2008. He got up to finish the stage on a new bike. I find that inspiring.
 10) Daniele Bennati, sprinter. Darned inspiring. heh.
 11) Now that's a tuck, y'all! Maximum aerodynamics at work, here. When I see cyclists riding this way, it always makes me nervous. And yes, it inspires me to write scenes in hopes of making them just as nerve-wracking to read. (I hope I can do it.)
 12) This shot brings to mind the scenes in Reus, Spain, where there are several accidents in the final kilometers of the stage. The original inspiration was provided by using GoogleMaps and their 360-degree views of the city. Very useful. Very inspirational.
 13) Cancellara, yet again. Look at his leg!!! Very, very inspirational. Heh.
 14) Fabian Cancellara, post-World Championships road race in 2009. By the time he finished, he basically had nothing left to give. He made his goal of winning the Time Trials competition a couple of days before, but missed out in placing in the Road Race. It was a bad call on his part - he "went for it" too soon - and Cadel Evans took the title instead. But the photos of Fabian post-event are exceptionally inspirational for me. (And the photos of him with his family after this are heartbreaking, in my opinion.)
And now, a change of pace, of theme, of location.
Because, ya know, variety is the spice of life, they say.
And who am I to say they're wrong?
Sorry, ladies. No name for this pic. My bestest-best friend Anthony took this one while on vacation in Puerto Rico last week. Anthony has a talent for finding the hotties, I must say... WRAWR!!!
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