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Rain, rain, rain. I want nothing to do with it on a bike. Sometimes in Pittsburgh, it was fun to ride out in the rain. A few nights after a baseball game at PNC Park, I'd fly home laughing as I got soaked. Only then, I knew upon arrival at my home, I could change, take a shower and relax. It's a tad different on the road.

It's an off day. The downpour has been relentless since this morning and it feels like a good day to rest.

Everyone in the hotel room is asleep and I'm sitting here, rather confounded, watching and thinking about the World Cup. What an event. Mexico just beat Cameroon and they showed the Mexican audiences back at home watching on a big screen. Thousands of people embracing and crying, hugging and cheering. 

An event that for a few weeks, takes people away from their troubles and unites (or separates) a country. Mexico flees its drug cartel wars for a moment in time and nothing matters but futbol. Impoverished people in Cameroon join neighbors and celebrate their country's partaking.

Just as these events bond people, they also separate and that's what I sit and ponder. A Brazialian player who scored an own goal in 1994 was murdered afterward. How do the referees return to regular life at home? Does competition divide the opponents as much as it unites the teammates?

 In some instances, I feel a correct analogy of the games is something of a war. Country vs. Country. People vs. People. A somewhat primal and animalistic competition of survival of the fittest. Maybe it's in our nature. 

At some point I become bored with the endless hoop of thoughts. 

Some things just are.