Turning the page

I turned the page in my day calendar today and found the following Buddhist poem. Odd how when you need some guidance it has an unexpected way of finding you.

Everything is changing
It arises and passes away.
The one who realizes this is freed from sorrow.
This is the shining path.

To exist is to know suffereing.
Realize this and be freed from suffering.
This is the radiant path.

There is no separate self to suffer.
The one who understands this is free.
This is the path of clarity.

Rat City AWESOMENESS

A bunch of us went to see the Rat City Rollergirls last weekend in one of the hangers at Magnuson Park. I had no idea that such a mess of fun was to be had at this event. The Rollergirls are by far one of the best kept secrets in Seattle. Sexy hardass chicks racing around a flat track on 4 wheel skates, blocking each other, getting penalties, scoring over and over, smacking down, checking each other into the crowd, husbands and boyfriends and girlfriends in the crowd holding signs up high and screaming for their girls. This is no cheesey Playboy Bunnies do the EcoChallenge. These chicks kick fucking ass all the while showing how sexy cunning, sporty women can be.

Four teams make up the whole Rat City program: Grave Danger, Throttle Rockets, Derby Liberation Front, and the Sockit Wenches. Two teams play each other in two 20-minute bouts, then the other 2 teams play, then they switch after half-time. Oh yes the half-time. It changes each time, but ours included the talented young ladies of the Aerialistas sporting pink and black cheerleading outfits climbing, dangling, swinging, and doing all sorts of amazing shit from ropes hanging from the hanger rafters. Two words: AWE SOME. I saw Cirque de Soleil a few weeks ago, but these girls get the prize for cuter outfits and girl-next-door accessibility into every boy (or girl's) fantasy.

Jane and John were all grins yet at a loss for words:



The Rollergirls' next bout is Saturday, June 24, again at Magnuson Park. Tix are available through their web site and sell out fast! There is seating for general admission where you get to sit on the floor ringside and potentially get a Rollergirl knocked in your lap, or there's the reserved bleacher seating where you get to sit in the stands behind an 8ft tall chainlink fence and can buy $4 PBR tallboys. A Rollergirl in your lap, or $4 PBRs? And to think they charge more for the bleacher seats.

More pics that I stole from someone else. If you think these look cool, they don't come close to seeing the real deal in action:

The chick with the star on her helmet is called the Jammer and tries to lap the pack and score. The chick with the stripe on her helmet is called the Pivot. She stays up front, sets the pace of the pack, and is the last line of defense to block the opposing team's Jammer. See there's strategery!

Pia Mess. Get it?? Get it?? ahhahahahaaaaa....

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr...blocking the Jammer

Ohhhhhhhh that's gonna hurt. But that's part of the fun and the crowd digs it.

Later on we came up with my Rollergirl/track derby name: Princess Slay-ya. I'm hoping to debut at the Marymoor 100 next month. Gotta work on the costume.

Stumptown calf-off

Things are getting heated down south at TVFY's calf-off. My tally:

#1 - Smooth, enticing, potentially excellent flavor

#2 - Skinny white boy needs to see some sun

#3 - Ah-nald called and he wants his calves back (but the sheep socks get cute points)

#4 - These legs scream FAST. And WAXED.

#5 - Ewwwwwwwwwwwww. Like if my grandpa's legs had no hair.

My final vote: #1. Strong yet au natural. The rest - muscles and tendons should not jump out like they're going to throttle you. Scary.

Take Your Bike to Work Day

I managed to stop at 5 commuter stations on the way in this morning. That's 5 stations worth of water bottles, cliff bars, cliff shot powdery drink mixes, ouch patches, and maps. Of course I was let down/disappointed/sad/bummed yet again that there were no mini Toblerone chocolate bars at the stations. Whoever organized that giveaway years ago did this city, or at least me, a huge disservice cuz now I go to every Bike to Work Day sniffing around for delicious chocolate and get handed a nasty cliff bar instead. Sigh.

The best B2W story has to be from my coworker. She lives in Snoqualmie and drives her Toyota Tacoma truck every day to Sandpoint. Sometimes it takes her an hour, sometimes it take over 2 hours to drive in. And the gas....her truck is a climbing/sailboarding/skiing/big furry dog carrying machine so you can do the math yourself. She's an amazing athlete and used to race bikes and skis like a banshee (shrugs off those "no fall" zones), but she's never abandoned her truck to ride to work. This week, however, given the amazing sunny weather we've had and a little cheerleading from her annoying officemate (me), she decided to give it a whirl and ride part of the way to work. We poured over the local commuter maps and decided she'd drive to Eastgate's P&R, then bike over Mercer Island, up Lake WA Blvd, through Montlake, and up to Sandpoint. An easy 17 miles one way. Piece of cake!

Friday morning's dawn broke. Her alarm went off at 6 a.m. She turned it off and rolled over. Off to a good start. She finally raised herself an hour later and got her gear together. She pulled on her spandex knickers and realized she put them away wet after a CX race last season. Now as she hikes them up they reek of mildew. Tasty. Not to be one put off by odd smelling clothes she throws her bike and backpack in the truck and sets off. Traffic flows through Issaquah and she nears Eastgate, but the anxiety of a new routine takes hold and she realizes that she doesn't know how to get from the P&R to the bike trail. "I'll just go to the Mercer Island P&R," she says out loud. She continues on and sees the exit for this next P&R, but is stunned to see a huge "CLOSED" sign across the exit. Shit! No time to think or pull over or investigate the nature of this barricade. A few seconds later she's zooming across the I-90 bridge en route to the city. By now she could admit defeat and drive straight to work, but she knows of one more P&R on 65th. It's not quite the noble feat of riding in 17 miles, but it will be something.

She gets to the 65th P&R and lets out a deep breath. Finally out of the car. She pulls her bike out of the truck and loads up for the ride to work. Except she doesn't know the best way to get from this area to the bike trail. Shit. Think fast. She does know that 65th runs straight to Sandpoint by way a numerous straight-up and straight-down hills not to mention no bike lane and horrendous potholes. Onward she rides. About a mile later her seat starts wiggling around and nearly falls off. She realizes that when she switched seats last night the seatbolt didn't get tightened the whole way, so she stops and pulls out an allen wrench and wrenches the bolt down. Someone rides by her and comments, "Doing a spring tune up?". Jackass.

Our heroine continues on her way, finally intersecting the Burke and rides it half a mile to Sandpoint. She's surrounded by green trees, no cars, it's quiet, serene. Her blood pressure drops. The cloud of anxiety lifts. She's almost done. The commute is almost over. She enters the campus and isn't sure of how to get to the backside of the campus to park her bike. She rides the wrong-way down a curvy, one-way access road and is almost immediately taken out by a service worker in a huge pickup. Disaster avoided, she finds the back entrance, parks her bike, takes a huge breath, and starts her day. She comes into the office and we give her a round of applause, even though she waves it off and just laughs and tells us the story of her morning adventure. She has a huge grin on her face. I congratulate her and give her a water bottle and mango-orange Cliffshot recovery drink.

The best news is that she's excited about the possibility of riding to work. The hardest part was plunging into a new, unknown routine and she faced (hopefully) more than enough challenges and still kept going. She thinks that riding 2-3 days/week would be totally feasible and could even take the bus part of the way from Preston. I rode with her back to the P&R to show her the not-so-hilly way and she was so chatty and excited about riding her bike again. Her head was swimming with the possibilities of commuting this summer and beyond. I was so happy to see the beginnings of another satisfied bike commuter. Cars and gas and politics be damned. We have another convert.

My arsenal

Yes I know that was the title of a really lame Morrissey album. But this is more dictation for my current whinefest called "My Endocrine System Sucks More Than Yours."

I saw my acupuncturist today. I explained what's been going on and that Doc #1 thinks my former bouts with fatigue that I resolved with acupuncture were not actually resolved, but only healed my chi, but not the adrenals themselves. So my current state is from an accumulation of unresolved adrenal fatigue, probably going back at least from my tour of Louisiana and CX season last fall, if not further. She agreed that's probably what happened and her acupuncture probably didn't heal everything. Um yeah. Did you ever think of clueing me in that I might need more help than a few needles in my skin? Lesson #1 in today's chapter of my book called "Looking Out For #1 Cuz No One Else Obviously Is."

I told her about how unusually tight and sore my quads have been in the weeks since I haven't been riding. I've been drinking lots of water, but my legs seem to be full of lactic acid for no reason. "Oh that's probably a magnesium defeciency. You should put some Emer-gen-C in your water to help your body absorb it and rehydrate." My body needs magnesium to absorb water? Why do people wait until I'm this old to tell me such things? Lesson #2.

After she poked me she asked if I was getting a series of vitamin B shots. Well no, I only got one shot last week. So now she tells me that they usually do them in series of 6 because people are so deficient it takes a few weeks to get levels back up. Ok, Lesson #3 for my book. I drop my drawers and she gives me a shot in the rump. It stings like hell, but I know that it will be all good in 30 mins when it starts bringing me back to life.

"What about licorice?" she asks. Huh? I can't stand licorice. Nasty stuff. She explains that black licorice is excellent for the adrenals and she's surprised Doc #1 and Doc #2 haven't put me on it. She suggests mixing it with hawthorne extract to sweeten the mix and make a tea with the two. It will boost my adrenals and help raise my blood pressure and metabolism. $50 later I have 2 small 4 oz jars of the two extracts in my backpack. Luckily I don't have to use much for the tea and she says it should last a few months. An expensive Lesson #4. My adrenals better love me now. More ammo in my endocrine arsenal.

Otherwise things are looking a tiny bit brighter. I did about 35 miles throughout the day yesterday, at a silly slow pace. Part of it was the Ride of Silence with about 1,000 other cyclists. I was most thankful that the pace was supposed to be slow and I could use that as an excuse for being lazy. I was pretty pooped at a few spots - going down 15th and up 2nd, then up 4th and Eastlake. Well I guess that was most of the ride. But I didn't quit, just went slower and kept breathing. I finished the night and could still brush my teeth, which was an excellent sign. Considering I could hardly pedal this Monday and Tuesday, this was pretty good. I was a little more pooped today, but the shot in my ass should help me recover.

The first track race was last night. Word on the street is that my girls kicked ass. Izette took the night's points. She is not long for Wed. I look forward to screaming her on from Turn 4's beer garden on Fridays. I'm happy being able to commute for now. Not looking to race for at least another 4-6 weeks.

Tomorrow is Bike to Work Day. I plan on hitting 6 stations along the way in to pick up some swag. I'm rooting for Toblerone chocolate again. I'm glad I can ride. A few weeks ago I told myself that I'd drag myself the 10 miles to work this day even if it took 3 hours, but I would not drive no matter how weak I felt. So tomorrow's ride is for all those who can't participate. I know how much it sucks.

Has anyone seen my hormones

Cuz they sure as hell aren't with me. I've been dealing with chronic fatigue the past 2 weeks (6 weeks if you count the denial), courtesy of a well orchestrated conspiracy by the players in my endocrine system. Adrenals: you suck. Thyroid: you suck too. Thanks to their little game I have the energy of a 90 year old woman. I noticed last month that I wasn't recovering from my workouts as well as I should, but I wrote it off as dehydration or not using one of those fancy squidy recovery drinks. But now I see it was a precursor of what was to come, total adrenal fatigue and now I'm struggling just to ride to work. I've commuted to work 3 times in the past 2 weeks and each time left me exhausted at work and struggling to keep the cranks moving towards home. When I get home I collapse on the couch and want nothing more than to sleep for a few days. I've had to drive to work because of the lack of energy, and I still collapse after a day of sitting on my ass. I've had smaller bouts of fatigue the past few years from my Hashimoto's disease, but this is the grande dame of fatigue and it came without warning, no stress, no epic dramas, no reason to pull the plug. Yeah your body really does hit the fan once you turn 30. Yippie! Just in time for summer!

Oh and racing. Can forget about that. My last workout was over 2 weeks ago and I couldn't even finish it. Hills look like Mt. Everest. The thought of a track workout makes me ill. Right now it would be a miracle if I could pedal around at more than 8 m.p.h. The first Wed night race is this week, but I won't go. It will be too depressing to see everyone chomping at the bit, so near the top of their game, while I sit around as miserable as if I had the flu. My one doc told me today that I can expect to take 2 days to recover for every 1 day I've been off. Great. Maybe I'll be back in action in time for CX season.

But the hormones. Yes it's all their fault. My adrenals have crashed, my cortisal levels in the toilet en route to the great sewer system in the sky. My thryoid isn't talking to my mitochondria so energy production is at a stalemate. T3 and T4 hormones have abandoned my metabolism and gone to Tahiti. Add a touch of anemia and hypoglycemia and my system is short wired. Thanks guys. Feeling great here. No need to hurry and return system to normal. I'll just sleep through the whole disaster, ok?

I'll sleep through it all and take the 19 pills (yes that's 6 doses of a hypoallergenic multi-vitamin, 6 cortisal pills, 4 tyrosine pills, 1 iron pill, 1 cytomel, and 1 levoxyl. Yum.) plus 1 DHEA spray every day and wait til you come back from your little hiatus. Feel free to send a postcard: "Wish you were here." Yeah I wish you were here too.