Scott Martin

December and January are the worst months for heart disease, according to a recent Associated Press article, and peaks in death coincide with the Christmas and New Year's holidays.

It doesn't stop with your ticker. Besides herald angels, Yuletide also harks a spike in depression, stress-related ailments, drunken co-worker mistletoe incidents and relacide (murder of annoying relatives).

But few people realize that this time of year is especially tough on cyclists, according to a study I once saw someplace.

Consider what we're up against :

• You can't ride. It's cold. It's dark. When your home isn't bursting with aggravating family members who must be entertained, you are driving to the home of aggravating family members determined to entertain you. How many times can you pedal to the store to replace the cranberry sauce you surreptitiously fed to Cujo ? Twice, maybe. How angry will Uncle Milt be if you set up your trainer in the living room while he's watching the Chick-fil-A Bowl ? Very angry.

• You don't receive the cycling gifts you requested. You ask for a power meter. You get a power drill. You ask for cycling socks. You get a 3-pack of calf-high tube socks. You ask for ceramic bearings. You get pottery. Grin and bear it, while you clean up the cranberry vomit Cujo deposited on the oriental carpet.

• You're forced to eat food that will turn you into the Michelin Man. Yams drenched with melted marshmallows. Slabs of turducken, a cardiologist's nightmare consisting of turkey, duck, chicken and possibly California condor. Grandma's special stuffing made from white bread, lard and Fritos, which you will refuse on pain of death.

Good thing you didn't get that King of the Mountains jersey you asked for.

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