Scott Martin

The holidays are over. You're: (a) hung over; (b) depressed about being back at work; (c) 15 pounds heavier than you were on Dec. 24; or (d) still unable to believe that instead of a carbon crank, Santa brought you a plastic trout that sings, "Take me to the river."

You need a lift. And what better way to feel good about yourself than discovering that somebody else feels worse than you do ?

That would be me. Because, less than one week into the New Year, I've managed to break nearly all of my 2008 resolutions. Read 'em and weep :

I will ride every day this year.
I figured this would be tough, but a streak of one day? New Year's Day is no problem: thermometer creeps above 40F, got the day off, need to sweat those pomegranate martinis out of the system. I fully intend to ride on Jan. 2, till I bruise my hand punching a plastic trout.

I will keep my bike clean.
Disgusted by the end of my riding resolution and forced to hold a frosty pomegranate martini in my hand to reduce swelling, I neglect to wax my bike for Thursday's ride.

I will obey all traffic laws.
Pedaling carefully and lawfully to work this morning, I come to a full stop at the traffic light that turns green only when a car is waiting. No car is waiting. Minutes tick by. Rain trickles down my nose onto my dirty bike. Still no cars. In any direction. I ride through the red light. Lightning strikes nearby. If the next bolt hits my non-carbon crank, someone at my funeral should feel very guilty.

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