And for all those whose expression for freedom will cost them their lives under the unforgiving hand of China. This video shows peaceful protesters being arrested in India. It's only a fragment of the brutality and terror faced by those who will be punished for protesting in Lhasa and other areas in Tibet.
Today marked my first race in 11 months and 1 week since coming back from being sick (again). In fact, the last time I popped my head out was in Sequim for the last Tour de Dung in 2007, so my return was the first TdD in 2008. It's one of my favorite courses because it favors lazy, large-boned sprinters like myself who don't hold any particular fondness for hills. It's a mostly flat course in Sequim, WA, with a few friendly rollers to make some fast descents and hard right turns.
Our team had the biggest showing ever, with 12 girls in the bunch. It was the first official "team race" and time for a few of our newbies to pop their racing cherry. I was high on anxiety while warming up, thinking that my months of base-only training would promptly get me dropped in the first big pack surge. For 3 laps I was constantly amazed that I was able to bury myself and stick with everyone, even during the many futile attacks. At about 2 miles to go I realized that it really would come down to a sprint finish so I thought, "THIS....I can do." I held a good position about 3 rows in and we blazed down towards the finish and once the 200m mark fell and the road opened up it was just me and my 54x15 (am I NUTS!!!) that took me to the end, nipped by a spunky 22 year old college student from Western. Not bad. Absolutely amazing compared to where I've been the last year.
This whole past week I told myself that I'd be riding this race for all those who can't: my teammates who are also battling chronic fatigue, pulled hammies, bronchitis, and breast cancer, and for all those at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance whom we'll be working with this coming year. My pounding heart, labored breathing, and legs full of poisonous jello are all of you.
And another best part? Being able to eat ANYTHING and EVERYTHING in my kitchen tonight with no second thought. YUM!!
The hot water heater for my condo unit lives in my bedroom closet. I had it replaced last year. Yesterday afternoon when I walked into my bedroom I thought I smelled some "ozone," but it went away quickly so I dismissed it. Around dawn this morning I woke up to a loud POP, but half asleep, dismissed it as Momo doing something mischievous in the outside room. After another quick POP I finally got up to see what's going on, but couldn't find anything and thought I was going crazy, but a few minutes later I heard it again and saw a flash behind my closet door. I threw the doors open knew it had to be the hot water heater. I frantically pulled all the bedding and blankets away from the shelves around it. Then it POPped again and I saw the actual sparks shoot out and small flames rise up from the top of it. Momo and I jumped about 10 feet and I ran out to the circuit breaker and shut off everything because I couldn't tell which was just the water heater. Still completely stunned, I inspected the top of the heater and saw that the electric component on the top of it had obviously developed a short since there was a hole burned through its metal lid and the copper grounding wire arching off of it was also burned. I eventually called my building manager and he came up to check it out. He'd never heard of anything like this and was stunned also and glad I was ok.
Who thinks of a hot water heater being the source of a bad wiring disaster? Granted it's a large appliance that has to heat up mass amounts of cold water so there must be some electronic component to it with as much a chance to fail as any, but hell it's in everyone's closet with all their flammable clothing too so it must be all good, right?
Fuck me. All those sparks and short flames were just inches away from all my down bedding and blankets and sweaters and clothing. That entire closet would have gone up in flames in seconds and engulfed the entire wall with the door out of my bedroom. The only other way out is the window, which is 4 floors up. Based on how frantic I was just seeing those sparks and small flames, I cannot fathom what I would have been like had there been a real disaster. There would be no time to think or be rational.
I'm getting one of my old climbing ropes and tethering it to my armour. I also don't have a smoke detector in my bedroom. I'm going to get 12 new smoke detectors and even afix one to Momo's head. I don't care if the other kitties make fun of him.
But I did make the most of a beautiful sunny day and went out for a great ride with Heather. If my place wanted to burn down while I was out, that was fine with me.
My hammies have been extraordinarily tight the past few months so I got a massage last night to try and loosen them up and prevent any hammy pull disasters. But now my ass feels like it's been through a meat grinder and I can't sit down very easily. I don't know how that tiny woman and her elbows could inflict such pain in parts of my ass I didn't know existed.
But I know it's all good.
Epsom salts bath tonight.
It's funny that a number of us are talking about stomach failure as our training programs begin to reintroduce intervals back into our soft, wintery lives. I had two 5-minute hill intervals on my agenda tonight so I staked out my route around the corner from my house in Magnolia.
You know how it goes....you start out completely charged eating up that hill and breathing deep and hard something fierce and then....you look at your watch and only 60 seconds have passed by. Shit. It must be broken! You continue on up as you try to entertain your brain with the cracks in the pavement or seeing how close you can get to parked cars while going anoxic, but the lunch that never really digested 5 hours ago has awakened and would love to revisit the land of the living. Oh no not now! Think of something else.....so you lean forward over the seat and into the hill and you're thankful that you pulled on your bibs so the winter insulation packed around your waist won't insult you any more than is necessary at this point. You push the thought of your lunch back down and continue up knowing that you can make it that much farther and you do. Rest. Repeat. Hurl.
In a word: awesome. What exactly was so awesome, you ask? Well I'll tell you:
- Seeing all the bike luv hovering around and locked up outside the Portland convention center. There was as much of a show outside as inside.
- 3,000 people stuffed into a convention hall and freaking out the fire marshal
- Steel, titanium, lugs, cargo, fenders, racks, painted flower hubs, wooden rims, singlespeed CX, etc etc
- Andy Hampston's 1988 Giro d'Italia bike
- My new pink wool beanie
- Running into everyone I knew and luved all while oozing with bike luv
- Riding all over Portland Sat night
- Bike trees everywhere you turned
- The magic carpet cargo bike we borrowed from the house we stayed at
- Zack taking me to the best Cajun restaurant after the afterparty and inhaling not just my bowl of jumbalya, but his as well
- Riding home after 2 bowls of jumbalaya, not so awesome
- Defying the laws of advanced aging and staying up til 3 a.m.
Hard to pick out favorite things. I'm a Vanilla groupie so I was digging the Speedvagen, Sacha's proprietary steel tubing CX rig. Thin, teardrop tubing for an ultra lightweight steel frame with lots of lateral stiffness. It's the new Vanilla team issue bike. I know there are other excellent framebuilders out there, but hey, they say crack is whack too.
Like a 6 year old kid at the gates of Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, I am absolutely GIDDY in anticipation for this weekend's North American Handmade Bike Show!!! The past few years I've coveted all the bikes from afar, but this year there was no way I'd miss it being in the bike haven of Portland. Sacha, Indy Fab, steel, lugs, cargo, fixed, cross, hotness. We'll be there tomorrow and Sunday. The previews, as always, have me tingling.
Remembrances abound this week around the Interweb for bike guru Sheldon Brown. They ranged from misty-eyed tributes to witty, succinct observations. I liked this one in particular, "If you tallied up all the gear inches calculated on his Gear Calculator, it would reach the moon." No kidding. The number of gear inches I've tallied alone from that page could get me most of the way to Cape Canaveral. I'd walk back and forth from my bike stand to my computer figuring out which combination would work best and if the 36t wouldn't give me a good enough chainline, what would I have to change out to still keep 58"...oh but then if I change out from 23s to 32s what does that do....etc. etc. If his Gear Calculator were a paperback, it'd be dogearred and covered in Scotch tape.
More of the best:
Bike Snob
Belgian Knee Warmers
Bike Portland
Kent Peterson
Velonews
The semi-official Blogspot remembrance site
Bicycling icon, hero, inventor, muse, artist, humorist, mechanic, historian, inspiration, and all-around Good Guy, Sheldon Brown, passed away last night from a massive heart attack. We were saddened to hear of his diagnosis with Multiple Sclerosis a few years ago, and I followed his journal as he made his way through the bumps of dealing with this degenerative disease, which slowly robbed him of time on his bicycles, but no one thought it would end like this or so soon. Sheldon was supposed to live forever like Santa Claus, but caked in Phil Wood grease, squirreling down in his Massachusetts bike shop looking for that odd component from 30 years ago that he knows will do the trick for your restoration project or updating one of the many pages of his web site that so many of us turned to at 1 a.m. when the brakes just weren't working right or to calculate how many gear inches we'd have with that shiny new 15t cog and 19mm tubulars.
Most of all, Sheldon loved his wife and they spent most of their lives together raising their family and riding bikes together. Just earlier this month he mentioned that he'd miss her while she was away for the weekend. I guess that's what I loved and admired most about Sheldon. He and his wife shared a wonderful, simple life together tethered by their love for bikes and their family. They rode around France and went on silly rides around town. They epitomized what it means to grow old together and to share even the most routine moments of the day together.
You are missed by so many people! Our hearts go out to you and your family. Thank you for sharing your life with us.
(This is for Christine who says I don't blog about riding my bike, hence I must not be riding it, which isn't totally off.)
I went on our team ride Saturday. It was really fun. We started next to the Snohomish airport, rode up to Everett under SUNNY skies (big thanks to our team meteorologist!), wound back to Snohomish where Laura made an emergency chamois cream application stop (she of saddle sore self-surgery fame), continued our way at Mach 9 over to Monroe, then south through some rolling hills at nearly the same silly-fast pace that made my legs question why I ever got off the couch this winter, then down out of the hills zipping past Miss Christine and her man, Pat, going the other way, finally ending up back at the cars 41 miles, 5 full heart rate zones, 0 flat tires, 2 Heed water bottles, and 3 mini-Lara bars later.
Ellen and I got in my car and she was the first to blurt out, "That was HARD!". No shit, little Ellen. This is not the team of old. If I could survive a team ride like this, I can hopefully survive my first race in 5 weeks, which my coach is deliberately not preparing me for. He wants to see how well I do "not being in shape," holding me back for later spring and summer blossoming. I'm only starting to come out of Zone 2 next week with some intervals thrown in once/week (ok minus the full-throttle team rides). So roger that. I am on target for a serious ass kicking by amazon women on bikes come March.
Snoqualmie Pass has been closed since Tuesday! Avy after avy after avy has been coming down over I-90 and there are some lucky ski bums who have been stuck up at the Pass enjoying all the freshiez and jumping off the overpass into massive piles of FLUFF. How epic would it be to skin up I-90 to the Pass, then ski back down? ("What's that loud rumbling noise, Honey?")
Of all the years for my knee to be completely effed up:
"Additional heavy snowfall was received in most areas on Thursday, heaviest near and west of the Cascade crest, with 24-hour amounts ranging from about 8 to over 16 inches and 6-day totals since last weekend ranging up to 5-8 feet."
I do still have my snowboard. And it's not like my knee could get much WORSE. Just a few runs on deep.....fluffy...puffy.....snow!!!
I'm trying for the umpteenth time to incorporate yoga into my weekly routine. I find, however, that it is impossible for me to participate in an activity that I'm not supposed to inhale mass quantities of food beforehand. When I come home from a long day at work, what wins out? Not my yoga DVD, but a fabulous, well-earned dinner washed down with some decent French red wine. Now if I was supposed to get on my trainer or even go out for another ride - totally do-able given the contents of my fat belly. But to get on the floor and bend and twist and heave-ho is a recipe for something far messier than Momo's litterbox.
First thing in the morning? Doesn't work either. That is time preciously carved out for sleeping til the 8th hour, putting lunch together, checking that the bike will roll, and heading out the door.
I know it's good for me, but it's just not meant to be. Thxvmch.
The Birthday Fairy came into town this weekend and made me my first studded tire for going into battle the next time the city is encased in ice. 162 sheet metal screws of death! Some kids stay up at night praying for snow to go sledding, now I'm praying for ice to go ride my bike. Full report to follow, hopefully sometime before spring. If cherry blossoms begin to bloom before its maiden voyage I'll make a trek up to the Pass for a test run, but nothing could possibly beat trekking across an incapacitated city and feeling absolutely BADASS.
(Not to pick on one of my guy teammates, but this is too good to pass up)
"I bought some Assos chamois cream in an effort to try something other than the Butt’r I have been using for seven years. Well, it seems that this stuff has menthol in it which should only be used in Halls cough drops, IcyHot and cigarettes. Well after trying it once, I found it was NOT for me. 'Susy' tells me that the lady folk really like this stuff (???) Anyway, I’m looking to offload it as I wont be using it again. So here is the important info – only used once and more importantly, I didn’t double dip! I paid $18 for the 140 ml container and would be happy to let it go for $10. If you are interested, let me know."
I told him that I dunno what unsavory ladies he's been talking to, but anything with menthol has not been approved for use in HooHooville so he should stick with the yummy shea butter found in Greyhound Juice. Love your jewels and support the Locals!!
I got this unexpected surprise at work today. I guess they were going to give me the actual letter at our staff meeting, but I skipped out in favor of going to the gym (even though I ended up yapping on the phone with Jane in the parking lot longer than actually being at the gym), so all I get right now is a fax transmittal.
It's a letter of commendation from our department head for my work on the oil spill the past 2 months, the spill that's pretty much taken over my life and put me under far too much stress and taken away far too much base mileage for the upcoming racing season (oh, but the herring!!! Who will save the herring!!). At first I figured it was just a form letter, but then people started coming in at the end of the day to congratulate me and explain that these don't come out very often and it dawned on me that this might actually be a true letter of acknowledgement and appreciation for all I did.
I guess all I can say is THANKS!, but how about a RAISE! This fax doesn't do much to help the water damage in my bathroom!!
Just kidding.
It's nice for people down in the trenches to be recognized. Salut!
Saw my doc today as a follow up to the xray and MRI I had done on my knee the other week. That week of tele skiing in BC had done me in and it was time to see what was rumbling under the hood. Fifteen years has past since its last inspection and I sure got my copay's worth! You may recall that I optimistically thought it would just be a bunch of yummy scar tissue. Oh no.
1) Re-torn ACL - I AM STUNNED, yet remarkably flabbergasted at the awesomeness of my leg strength to adapt to this handicap. And in all my ignorance I cannot believe that I've been running around and trying to ski with NO ACL. Those of you who don't know this cute little ligament - it basically stabilizes your whole knee, connecting the tibia and femur, and w/o it your knee buckles and you fall and hurt more delicate features. Picture yourself with a rubber chicken as your right leg, now try to go play. I tore this ACL back in 1988 and it was very annoying to have it buckle intermittently until I finally had it repaired in 1993. She doesn't know how long it's been torn, but I have no idea when I could have done this over the last 15 years. I guess that woman rugby player who tried to pick me up at the gym years ago was right when I tried to insist that I couldn't play w/o an ACL: " I don't have an ACL," she said alluringly.
2) Torn lateral meniscus and medial meniscus - Oh boy torn cartilage!! I had one of these repaired in 1988, guess it's time again!
3) Chondromalacia - More damaged cartilage! This is more cartilage under the kneecap and on the femur. Pain increases with bending! This is why tele and walking downhill hurts like HELL. Joy!!
4) Osteoarthritic changes - Yay arthritis!! She said it's just starting and that it could be mitigated with glucosamine and chondroitin supplements and maybe surgery to clean it out.
She was expecting to put me in surgery soon, but I said NO THANKS, maybe next year. It doesn't interfere with my cycling, which is all that matters right now. So my backcountry skiing dreams are indefinitely postponed. I'll keep the fire going for y'all and drink all the Baileys myself!
I was just going to say that I've been in full Eeyore-mode the past few weeks as life pulls one rug after the other from under me. Then I noticed a remarkable resemblance between my new team photo and this picture of Eeyore, minus the pink bow in my pigtail. If you've seen my team photo you should be laughing by now, otherwise you'll have to wait for our new team site to go public, like any time this summer.
Someone said "Good morning, Jill" to me on the trail this morning and I was so blinded by the SUN of all things, that I could not make out who it was, only a friendly feminine voice. I thought it was Miss Jen, but that was eventually ruled out. I'll just think it was my fairy godmother out for a sunny morning ride.
Spent the long weekend up in Vancouver with newly visa-ed Zack and our bikes. Amazingly bike and ped-friendly. Well marked bike routes, bike blvds, well maintained roads, curb-side signals for bikes to change the stop light, and wallet-sized foldable bike maps. This city did a great job making Seattle look like a total hick town. It's depressing that our officials have let Seattle get this far behind in safe or bike-friendly infrastructure despite inflating sales and property taxes. Oh, and did I mention Canada's free health care? We watched Sicko, too. Depressing.
The nice surprise was the organic bakery around the corner from his new house that had a Pie and Chai special and even had a full list of gluten free pie and soy ice cream! YUM!! I may have visited more than once.
Only 8 days until LOST is back. I miss Hurley and Locke.
Last night we had another massive winter storm. Lots of heavy rain that turned to sleet...then snow. Overnight the skies cleared and the temperature dropped, leaving the morning with mass amounts of ice covering the entire city.
Never one to listen to the word of reason, esp when it comes to bikes, I mounted my CX tires onto my singlespeed and stepped outside. When everything beneath your feet glistens from the ice, you know it's going to be a long ride to work. I slid on my cleats down my big hill, let out some tire pressure, gingerly got onto the main arterial and made my way down to the Ballard Locks rather than deal with dicey traffic and the Ballard Bridge. The sun was high and warm down in Ballard, but once I was on the Burke, I realized it would take many hours of warm sunshine to melt that coat of thick ice. I tried going on another main road, but I was not fond of dealing with big cars driving on black ice.
An HOUR later, I made it to Fremont. I decided to hole up at Peets and let the world warm up a little before proceeding. I hugged my Americano and watched other cyclists walk their bikes over the ice or mash through on mtbs. Thirty minutes went by and I gave it another go. There was still mass amounts of ice in the bike lanes and on the Burke, so I navigated to Northlake which was gloriously wet and clear of ice. Once at UW, I hopped back on the Burke and chopped through slowly melting ice. Up by TiCycles I could get onto the dirt trail, which my CX tires dug into with glee and even broke through the icy patches.
2 1/2 hours later, I got to work. The sun is still high so hopefully this shit will melt throughout the day. I'm going up to Vancouver this weekend to visit my handsome fellow and we're going to buy a few bottles of wine and build some studded tires. I have a deep need to be destructive so this will be a marvelous outlet.
Our teammate's partner, Rose, passed away this morning after many years of battling cancer throughout her young life. She was adamant that Lance Armstrong had it easy. What most people don't know is that his cancer is one of the most treatable out there, while his "miraculous" recovery made the rest of the world's cancer patients appear weaker or less of a super hero.
Rose was a super hero. She came to many of our races to cheer us on even if she just had chemo the day before. She would bundle herself up and be so tired that she could barely get up, but it gave her great joy to see her partner race and to be an honorary member of the team. One of the funniest times was when she and Heather rented one of those crazy fancy expandable RVs and drove it to the Walla Walla stage race so they'd have someplace cozy to spend 4 days. Turns out that Heather couldn't drive the rig so Rose channeled her inner truck driver and drove the whole way there and back. Ever try to k-turn an RV? Rose did. Ever get chased off the suburban streets of Walla Walla by the local cops and have to retreat to the Wal-Mart parking lot? Rose did.
As it so happens, in 2008 our team has a new partnership with the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance (SCCA) where Rose received much support and treatment. Our team plans to do a lot of outreach with the SCCA because many of us feel that there is so much more to racing that just collecting points and striving to crush the competition. A kit is more than just flashy sponsorship. We want it to echo "I make a difference in a cancer patient's life," whether it's fundraising or taking them for a ride around Greenlake. Sometimes having the sun rise in the morning is more than another day to be stronger, sometimes it's a gift from heaven.
Much love to our teammate during this time and to sweet Rose for making us better people.
Spent a week over New Year's with good friends and a cute boy up at Kicking Horse ski area in Golden, BC. Not nearly as much dumpage as the Cascades have been getting, but it was a fantastically huge mountain with lots of terrain (i.e. lots of green runs for gumbies like myself). Most of all it was a great chance to put in many hours on my tele skis to see if I could improve any.
Good news: I can now make a real left tele-turn! No more just turning to the right for me. There were a few marvelous epiphanies about weight distribution and positioning that made my turns actually work really well. Zack took some footage of me looking somewhat competent going down the slope, albeit in slo-freakin'-motion. Someone speed me up! One of these days I'll be able to stop worrying about going too fast and work with the skis and the terrain rather than have them work me.
Bad news: All this bending and turning and working against the skis so much has left my right knee most unpleased with this new activity and it swelled up after a few days, leaving me in too much pain for any more turns. Time to finally have someone check out what's been happening in there since my last reconstructive surgery 15 years ago. Hopefully just a mess of scar tissue that can be broken down in a few physical therapy appointments (right?). Nothing like another nagging injury to have lined up in the queue.
Otherwise it was a wonderful break from anything work related and I'm stoked to get back on the bike (something I can do well!!) and start training my ass off. It feels like I've been off the bike for years. Now if it would let up raining......
Whew. Made it back to my home planet after spending 3 days on the distant rock where my parents live. It's always very difficult living among them and their people, even for a few days. I am treated like an alien who 1) looks weird (socks have to match? they just keep me warm), 2) eats weird food ("Does anyone want to try her GLOO-ten free pancakes? They taste just like real pancakes."), 3) participates in strange activities (plays in mnts, travels, bike commutes), and 4) does not associate with their native past times (digital television's 500 tv stations, afternoons watching football, wanting to put all prisoners on Alcatraz so they can kill each other and we won't have to pay for their containment, etc.).
I tried to get my faithful rocket ship ready for an emergency early departure, but there were some technical difficulties so I had to wait it out and blast off at the assigned hour.
Highlights: My mom loved her recycled glass tile plant stand that I made her. My dad loved his trove of Smartwool cycling socks. Watching how ridiculously happy dogs are with stuffed toys that squeak. It was sunny. Finally reading Steinbeck's book on King Arthur and his Knights.
(imagination = salvation)
This is one of the stranger collections I've had at one time:
- Sheep's milk feta
- Whole Foods gluten-free pizza crust
- Organic canned tomatoes (yes there is a pattern)
- Phytogen supplements
- Vitamin D supplements
- Bumble & Bumble Creme de Coco shampoo
- An orange
- A grout application stick thingee
- Bottle of silicon grout sealer (aha another pattern)
- 1 Superfeet shoe insole (I couldn't find the other)
- Unused gym clothes because I never got there today
- Lavender oil so I don't stink so bad after (not) going to the gym
- Bike pump
- Flat tire accessories
- 3 vials of drugs that need to be refilled
- Patch from the Gulf of the Farallones
- ID badge from the spill
- Lunch-time tupperware
I'm finally out of work before 8 p.m. so I'm off to fill it up some more with Xmas goodies for a cute boy that I love.
I spent not ONE, but TWO days skiing in major dumpage powder fluff this weekend. On Saturday Zack, Denny, Sketchy, Eric, and I went to Stevens Pass for the season's inagural gear shakedown. The lifts were still closed, but we skinned up a bunch, came down through big poofy batches of powder, and fell a few times in between. It was so silly fun and felt even better to be outside playing in the snow while the rest of the western WA metropolis was drenched in rain, sleet, and even a little snow. YUCK! Rumor is that my team spent the morning riding their bikes on trainers in a parking garage!! WTF??? HELLO! The Great Outdoors are calling!
After such fun Saturday, Zack and I needed more so we drove all the way to Mt. Baker for even more heavy POWage, but this time with the aid of mechanical lifts. It dumped all day during the many runs, and ended with 100 mph winds that shut the lifts down a little early. I was in the lodge by then, my legs wondering what the hell I was doing with them this weekend. Do squats while bouncing along on two planks? Are you NUTS?!?! Have you heard of this invention called a COUCH?
Big props go out to all the adept snowboarders and skiers at Baker who are skilled enough to give a gumby tele-skier like myself a wide, wide berth.
And even bigger thanks to my boyfriend who, despite all the faceplants and uncontrolled left turns I do, continues to be seen with me.
YUM!!
We're going to play in the snow this weekend and I am SO excited to get the heck out of dodge and away from anything with 2 wheels. Funny that I'm already burned out on bikes and I didn't really even have a season, but I find that the mental anguish of being sick doles out its own helping of frustrations and disappointments, especially when you're trying to come back and no where near the level you should be. This winter I promise to be more balanced in my activities to prevent the kind of burnout that comes from focusing so hard on one activity that you forget everything else that has the potential to make you happy: skiing all day in the fresh, clean air; snowshoeing under quiet, gray-cloaked skies; rubbing snow angels into the earth; warm mountain cabins; and building smiling snowmen with mossy beards to greet other hikers along the way.
So tonight I dusted off my favorite tele book to brush up on my skills and visualize smooth, bouncy tele turns and snowy bliss with my fuzzy mountain man. With the newly dumping snow comes a newly rejuvenated me.
mmmmmm.....PIE!!! That's what motivated 7 of us to set off on our bikes under super sunny skies Thanksgiving Day to ride from Seattle to Fall City. I had just arrived from San Francisco that morning and had enough time to eat one of Zack's wonderful omlettes, chug some coffee, and pack my gear for the rest of the day's adventure. Unlike the previous two years' cold rain, this ride was far too easy....dry pavement....brilliant sunshine....until we dropped down Novelty Hill, through a thermocline, and into the Carnation Valley. The late afternoon temperature easily dropped 10 degrees and the frost covering the ground indicated we were in for a bone chilling evening. By the time we hit the Nestle Farms the sun had set, the moon was lighting the valley, and feet and hands were already completely numb. With about 10 miles to go we could only think of mass amounts of pie and a warm fireplace. Onward we rode, increasing our pace to get to the finish faster, but damned by the wind chill that mocked our efforts.
The moon and stars were striking as we made it to Janna's around 5:30 p.m. We thawed out in front of her fireplace and devoured the first pumpkin pie and a few rounds of beer and mulled wine. We later moved on to strawberry/rhubarb, then pecan, then more berry cobbler......mmmm.......can a tradition of riding 48 miles and eating tons of wonderful food get any better?
Today there was more brilliant sunshine, so while Zack hiked up Granite with Denny and Ash, I opted to be the only person to ride all the way back to Seattle. I quickly found out that riding back is way harder, not only because you're tired and loaded down by pecan pie, but because it's a longer grade getting out of the Carnation Valley and it never...ever....ends. Woodinville-Duvall Road? SUCKS. The Burke was a welcome relief as I knew every bump and waypoint, but the last stretch after Matthew's Beach....SUCKS. I swear my body always knows that it's almost done and throws in the towel a little early despite being 10 miles out. I finally pulled into home as the sun was setting, my feet and hands not quite frozen, but my heavy Messquerade sweatshirt never felt so good.
One week of sitting on my butt at an oil spill, the next 2 days riding ~100 miles under beautiful fall skies and getting some color back on my face. Thanksgiving? You bet.
"Cinelli have become the bicycle equivalent of a middle-aged divorcee in a Versace dress who drinks too much and starts hanging all over you in a hotel bar."
OUCH. Glad I finally ditched my Cinelli bars and Cinelli-specific stem last year. Wouldn't want to be seen hanging around with a hag like that. But they do still make a damn fine cork tape.
Today was by far the most cush since I got here 4 days ago. I've been so busy or tired working on the response that I haven't been able to go to a restaurant to sit down for real food for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I've just been snacking on what I stocked up on at Whole Foods Friday night or not eating at all (they don't call it the Oil Spill Diet for nothing). But today, I actually went out to eat with locals, Jesse and Shawna, at a cute little Italian place up the hill from Crissy Field. I was so excited to be sitting down for normal conversation, with non-work people, eating hot food and drinking a glass of wine, that I actually broke my diet and had a piece of chocolate mouse cake. YUM!!!!
Afterwards, I moved into my new hotel at Fisherman's Wharf. Now that the week-long Oracle conference was over, rooms had finally opened in the city close to the command post and we wouldn't have to make the arduous commute from Oakland anymore. I opened the door to my room and - it didn't smell!!! Finally....my clothes wouldn't reek of the stench of a 20-year old smoking room. Instead, my beds were decorated like a fancy, multi-layered cake. I had more pillows than I knew what to do with. Were they like utensils at a fancy dinner party? Do I start with the outside pillow and move in? I wanted to jump up and down on my new, clean beds to break them in and make sure I wasn't dreaming.
I still have some work to finish up, but I can do it in my jammies while watching the flat-screen tv on my cushy down bed. Sad, no TBS or VH-1. The best thing about hotels is the sugar-coated cable tv shows.
My peeps go in front of the congressional hearing tomorrow morning to give testimony about the spill. The public, media, and Belt-Way suits want heads to roll, but it's not going to be our group. We're a fine-tuned, scientific response machine. We kick ass and I'm honored to be part of such an amazing team.
I have my spill responder hat on this week down at the oil spill in San Francisco Bay. I'm making all sorts of maps for the responders and scientists assessing the damage to the shorelines and natural resources. Eelgrass, rocky shorelines, sandy beaches, birds, fish, invertebrates, marine mammals, and even historical and cultural resources are all being accounted for and assessed on a daily basis by all the top people. Most of them have been working 14 hour days for over a week and they're pretty whipped. I'm fresh meat, which is a welcome dose of energy to the tired troops. Nothing beats huge welcoming hugs and arms held high in signs of hallelujah from my coworkers and people that I've worked with at other responses.
Not sure how long I'll be down here, probably through TDay, which means I'll miss the 3rd Annual Ride for the Pies. Serious bummer! I also only brought 4 pairs of undies since I got caught off guard coming down here and most of my supply was in the hamper. I figure I can make do with the hotel sink, but in my experience underoos don't dry very well in a hotel room. I needed some new ones anyway so this will be good incentive to go shopping.
I'm officially a Kenny-bot now. I signed up to have Kenny Williams hold my leash for the next year to keep me healthy and out of trouble as I ramp up for my first full season in...how long? Oh, 2 years. Jane will be my faithful sidekick as we roll our eyes at yoga and Zone 2 all winter long, then puke over the rail after our Pain Locker track workouts this spring and summer. I have a few specific track racing goals in mind, but for now I told Kenny that my primary goal is to have a full season and to be smart about my training and racing. So I've handed over the leash. So far I'm digging all the wisdom he's shared. He did a fantastic job bringing Jane back after she got sick, and he's dealing with another hot racer with EBV, so the guy has been broken in well. Stay tuned.
The day I sprained my wrist, Zack and I had planned a day trip to Goldmyer Hot Springs, which would include riding our bikes in 4 miles from the closed gate. Never one to let a silly injury interfere with a hot soak, I used his fabulous K2 suspension mountain bike to negotiate the muddy and gravely road.
My revelations after returning to the car after dark:
1) What's better than coasting? GEARS!!
2) If I can't see what's in front of me, going faster makes it better!
3) Suspension bikes are like riding a bed!!
Last night Zack and I enjoyed dinner and bevs at Brouwers, a chance encounter with 2 teammates, then a trip down the trail to the Ballard Market. On the way I caught a glimpse in my light of something green, black, and woolen on the trail. We circled back and found a pretty sparkly green and black woolen hat alone and lost on the wet trail. Booty!! Once we collected our foodstuff at the store, we came out to find rain and a guy sitting on the hottest DIY bike: an old blue Peugeot frame with an 18" wheel on the back, a 24" wheel on the front, and ape bars about 4' high. He was super nice and from Michigan. He'd lost his old bike and this one came into his life for free. It was such a cute pairing it totally made my night.
Over the Ballard Bridge in the rain. We were heading down the ramp to Fisherman's Terminal when suddenly Zack stopped cold in front of me and all I could do was slam on the brakes, which were useless coated in fresh rain on slick pavement. I swerved around him so not to slam into his rear, but on the other side was met with one of Fisherman's Terminal's finest - a spaced-out bum on a rickety bike going uphill. As I hurled towards him knowing there was no chance of stopping, I prepared myself and thought, "This is gonna hurt."
I plowed into the bum and knocked us around. We ricocheted off each other and the railings on either side that kept us from bouncing into the street. After my abrupt stop, he started apologizing and Zack started scolding him for not looking up or paying attention to who else was on the trail. I didn't really hear what they were saying because I was staring at my left arm, which was quickly seizing up and beginning to throb. The old guy smelled of really bad cologne. I poked at Zack to move him along, away from this useless argument. I walked down the rest of the hill and mounted my bike for the one-handed ride up the other hill home.
After a night of icing and a morning of teammates playing Mom, I went to the Ballard Swedish ER (the ONLY ER you should ever let anyone go to) to get some x-rays. Only an hour later, the doc said it was a bad sprain, but that there was bone and ligament damage from old injuries that would require attention (Oh, you mean from the 2 other times I've fucked up this wrist?). So now I have to see an ortho specialist who may suggest that I have surgery to repair some bone and ligaments, but I really have no interest in this. This wrist has gotten pretty banged up before and it's a matter of letting the swelling go down, taping it up, and wincing a bit when I have to brake hard (enter the fixed gear!!).
For now it's a bag of frozen peas on my arm and a few days of vacation. And being extra wary of bums emanating from Fisherman's Terminal.
There's a big oil spill down in San Francisco Bay, which many of my coworkers are responding to. A huge container ship hit the Oakland Bay Bridge and tore a 100' gash in its side, which also spilled ~58,000 gallons of IFO 380 (that's the heavy black goo) into the Bay. We just had a huge drill down there last year simulating the response to a similar spill, so the silver lining is that the best possible people are down there doing some very stressful, time-crunching work. As for the public's perception that the Coasties' response was delayed and this spill could have been minimized or contained sooner, BACK OFF. There are issues in determining how much oil a ship has lost when it has a 100' hole in it and when there is a layer of dense fog over the Bay preventing overflights. If you want to bitch, give it to the Responsible Party. The Coasties and everyone else I know who's down there are the best in the business. Our coastlines are in good hands. Now shut up, get in your SUV, drive to the store, and get me a beer.
Photo: Sea star and persistent tar balls at Muir Beach
If you're hip to bad cycling movies, you'll know this is a line from one of my favorites, "American Flyers". I introduced my team to the classic one weekend when we were staying up in Sequim for the Tour de Dung series. The tale of the little brother David and nasty skanky Muzzin racing the Coors Classic gave us oodles of props for the next day. "Enough of this Sunday ride, let's hurt a little!"
But today's ying yang has more to do with last week's enormous Full Moon - now waning - wrecking havoc on many people around me, including myself:
- Seattle Int'l Randonneur - Shot with a bb gun on his commute home by some people in a car. Two bullets lodged in his lung and diaphram. In great spirits and doing well.
- Teammate Alyson - Broken elbow, just had surgery, pins in elbow, out for an indeterminate time
- Coworker/officemate/friend - Fired in a big time, 3 day showdown at work. It sucked. I'm still trying to clean her area. It will take a few days. It's mentally exhausting. We're all worried that she's ok, but I don't think we'll hear from her again.
- Friend Randall - T-boned in car by idiot SUV driver running a red light while yapping on a cell phone. Car totaled. Luckily he's ok. Lots of witnesses to pin the bimbo's ass.
- Me - Took an offer to ride Charles' precious, new, 0.38mm thin Columbus steel, Marinoni frame only to accidentally bang and dent the top tube on some pannier racks when trying to put it back. If there is one person in the local cycling scene that you do not want to piss off, it's Charles. If there is one person in the local cycling scene whose precious, new, beloved bike you don't want to fuck up, it's Charles. One word: SUCKSTOBEME
On the good side:
- I'm healthy and doing well
- Everyone else I know is healthy and doing well (get well Alyson!!)
- Due to bullet #3 above, I have some undeniable job security
- I woke up this morning to Momo rolling in a pile of catnip covering my kitchen floor. Little punk had found the bag and had a catnip orgy all night long. Nippers Anonymous arrived by afternoon for an intervention.
- I've lost 5# the past month thanks to eliminating all the major food allergens and all-around bad stuff: wheat, gluten, sugar, soy, corn, potatoes, and dairy. Shooting for another 15 more by March.
- I'm trying to get set up with a great coach to assist in my comeback. If he'd call me back.
Hopefully next Friday's New Moon will set us up for more fortunate events and no more setbacks as the moon waxes towards full. If you can, stay at home in your footie pajamas with some books and a sun lamp and don't come out until next weekend.
25 teams went in, only 1 finished first. I may not have raced much officially this year, but I can end 2007 knowing that our Alice in Wonderland team was crowned this year's Messman's Messquerade winners, the 2nd team to finish in time, and the 1st team to have the most completed 28 (yes that's a hellofalot) checkpoints. Riding home from the after party at 2 a.m. with Zack and Raz, I was still in a haze that it happened at all. Seeing Alice chasing the White Rabbit down Broadway on bikes was one of the best moments ever. Hearing Raz recount his phone call to the wrong number, priceless: "We're golden. I have a bone. [pause]. We're golden! I have a bone!!"
I don't know what was most exciting about the whole weekend:
- Our team's warmup ride and costume shakedown Friday night. Critical Mass took the entire Viaduct from the stadium, went through the Battery Street Tunnel, up 99, then over the Aurora Bridge and into Wallingford. I'm not a huge fan of pissing off motorists, but this was one for the record books. They should shut down the Viaduct one night a month and let everyone walk or bike on it, watch the sun set over the Olympics, and listen to how quiet it is. An experience like that might persuade one or two people to ditch their cars to help make the world a little more quiet. Also, 500 car-free people echoing through the Battery Street tunnel is a beautiful piece of music.
- Well, the race. That we won.
Every year a bunch of us do Messmann's Messquerade race, whereupon a bunch of people adorn Halloweenie costumes, consume much libation, and ride around the city filling out a manifest and racing to the finish. One year extra points were awarded for video of anyone riding the mechanical bull at Cowgirls (check), and last year there were extra points for anyone who brought a real pumpkin to the finish line (check). Two years ago I got the most extra points of anyone because that's where I really met Zack (awwwwwww). That same year I also got to bed around 2 a.m. only to get up 4 hours later to pick up Jane for the Ft. Steilacoom CX race. Completely devoid of sleep and utterly hung over, I still rocked the course on my singlespeed, came back home and passed out, then got a sweet phone call that night from my masked man seeing how I was after 2 races in 12 hours.
This year looks to live up to the same reputation. Seven of us are going as Team Alice in Wonderland. We have Alice (complete with hairy legs, 5 o'clock shadow, and real long blond hair), Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee on a tandem, the Mad Hatter, maybe a Cheshire Cat, the Queen of Hearts (yielding a light saber, yo!), and the fastest White Rabbit in town.
I don't have Ft. Steilacoom on the agenda for the next day, just picking up Jane at the airport and waving obnoxious signs to welcome her back to the States after her stellar rookie appearance at Master's World Track Championships in Sydney. I might wear my costume then, too.
That's the only way to describe how I feel about today's first team ride. Yay!!! We did 41 miles around Everett and Monroe and Snohomish (how we tied that together I have no idea) and I felt absolutely awesome the whole time. Granted, I wasn't one of the amazons who pulled into the wind for 5 miles, but I rode strong and zippy and never felt like I couldn't keep the pace with the other girls. The curse is broken!! I'm so tempted to go to my favorite CX course, Kelly Creek, tomorrow, but we're going to spend the day riding with our friend who is leaving Seattle for good and riding his bike to Austin, TX. So we'll ride out to Fall City together for one last round of fun, then he's off on the John Wayne Trail headed east and then south into Oregon and other adventures. [edit: Departure postponed a few days. We didn't ride to Fall City to get pie. Long Sunday rides were made for eating pie, dangit.]
I also got a call from Jane last night. She's down in Sydney, Australia, at the Masters World Track Championships. She's talking funny already and having the time of her life. I've never heard someone so utterly happy before. Besides making new friends in the international racing scene, she's already set a PR in the 200 and 500 meter races, and even came in 6th overall in the 500!! Being an unknown has its advantages, like being able to power around 2 Aussies who have completely underestimated your awesomeness. Now it's on to the Scratch and Points races and more kickassness, then some relaxation at the Great Barrier Reef. Eventually, we hope, she'll come back home and share more stories.
2008 is going to be a fantastical season!
I was going to journey out to Marymoor tonight for the Wed night CX training, but October Storm 2007 rolled in a bit early so my carpoolees and I decided to call it a wash. A night of driving rain and plummeting temperatures while rolling around jarring divots of grass was not high on our list. Plus I've learned that I need to lean towards being conservative when it comes to exposing myself to immune-challenging elements, so I resigned my self to a night on the trainer while watching America's Next Top Model (dude it's my show!).
I was so jazzed all day to get on my cross bike and see how my fitness is doing. I watched a few YouTube videos at work of Pros gliding over barriers like they don't even exist. I visualized my dismounts and remounts, my off-camber lack-of-ability, and general fun playing with my friends. The World's Greatest Boyfriend even helped me prep my bike last night when he noticed how tired I was and couldn't think straight. He put on my smaller chainring, took some links out of the chain, and even fixed my squeaky front brake so I wouldn't be a total gomer at practice. He is a real prince to put up with a frustrated, tired, grumpy girl at 11 o'clock at night.
But the stupid weather intervened and postponed my excitement. It's been raining since...oh I dunno......LAST JUNE. Snow up in the hills though. This rain must be good for something besides salmon. Time to think of the 2-planking kind.
Heather and I owe the bike goddesses many bouquets of flowers because yesterday we did the Kitsap Color Classic fun ride despite tales of rainy armageddon from local weathermen. Turns out that we only got a slight misting in one section and counted 1...2..3..4...5(!) rainbows! It was a really fun day when it felt so good riding just for the heck of it and not worrying about keeping up with anyone. After the first 2 miles of weaving through the phreds, we found ourselves on our own with just the colorful trees, random cows and horses, and spectacularly formed gray clouds above. There were plenty of big hills that felt REALLY good to power up. Yes - power up. I find myself getting my power back slowly but steadily. We did about 38 miles, which was the furthest I've ridden since my last race at Tour de Dung on April 1. Today I think I can say, "I'm coming back."
With that going through my veins, I'm checking out all the pictures from cross races this past weekend. Down in Portland it was their first Cross Crusade race with over 1000 racers! I am jonsin' so hard to do a race that my foot is tap-tap-tappin' away at the thought. Now I'm thinking it could be quite possible to sneak a few in at the end of the season. Drive and determination can take you so far!
A few of my favorite snaps from yesterday's Cross Crusade, from BikePortland.org:
Yup that pretty much sums up why I love cross so much.
I've found that having a slight meltdown on the phone with both of your doctors will do wonders in having them jump and find the answers the quell your fear. When I first talked to Peter he said not to pay attention to the high lab numbers and "it could be worse", which is the LAST THING to tell a patient when she thinks she'll be relegated to the couch for the rest of her life. I faxed him the labs and he passed them around the office. He called 2 hours later with the CDC website in front on him explaining what everything meant. Essentially, 3 of the lab numbers have gone down, which is good, and I can ignore the number that went up because the CDC says to ignore it (and I paid for this test because????). My numbers are so high because I've had such a severe case and they actually are evidence that something happened in the past, not right now, and it could take years for the numbers to go down to normal. Peter likened it to dead soldiers on a battlefield. Just because they're all around doesn't mean the fight is still on. He managed to talk me off the cliff with that one.
In the meantime I had left a panicked message with my other doctor. It took her almost 30 hours to get back to me, in which time I figured she realized I'm a kook and had her number changed. Finally her assistant called and put me at ease by saying she had good news and was going to make me feel better. She had the same message as Peter, that the numbers were actually good and not an indication of a current infection. My body was doing very well and healing.
So with this info I'm slightly more encouraged to order our new kit for 2008, although I'm skeptical of how the designs will turn out. Polka dots? Oh please kill me! Some of us will never be climbers, dude. Give me solid black wool and I'll be happy. A skinsuit out of black wool? Ok maybe not. Just give me something to make me look fast.
I got my labs back from my latest EBV tests. I was expecting my numbers to continue their positive trend south, which would be a expected with all the dragon poo I've been drinking and sitting on my ass the past 6 months. But no. My Nuclear Ab numbers went UP. I was 647 in June and now I'm at 1001. Normals are <100. My highest last year was 1736 when I was really on my ass. I was shooting for sub-300 so I'm a little numb with shock and a fair dose of denial. I'll call Dr. Peter tomorrow and see what he says, but I think his bag of tricks is pretty empty. I've been feeling rather excellent and have begun the arduous phase of getting my cardio back, but if my numbers are so screwed I'll never know if I'm getting sick again until it's too late. If you can't count on data to tell you how your health is then what is there?
I had started a cleansing diet this week to try and reboot my system after all the crap it's been through the past 6 months, esp in anticipation of my new "better" numbers. But now those bottles of wine are looking mighty tasty.
Stupid dumb body health stuff. Leave me alone!!!!!!!!
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Ok after a short pity party, I found some inspiring information about athletes with chronic fatigue syndrome. It turns out that US Women's Soccer Team star Michele Akers has suffered with it for years, but managed to control it enough to stay at her elite level before retiring. Says she:
"It's taken me three years to get back. When I first decided to take six months off and tried training again, I was in the weight room, like, 15 minutes, and then I could go on a five-minute walk/ jog. It's taken me three years to get my body back.....I never know who is going to show up on the field, who I'm going to be from day to day. So to hear my coach say today that he's so proud of me, that they need me on the field to win, was good. I disappoint myself so much because I know what kind of player I can be. But I've learned I can contribute in spite of [limitations on] my playing ability."
Maybe all is not lost. Rest, recouperate, moderation, keep playing. I can do that.
When I read about this group I thought it was some offshoot from the Superfriends Hall of Justice. Whether they wear capes or not, they've cleared the way for me to have cute little goat friends at my home in Seattle. Just like the GJL's president, I could have half a gallon of fresh goat milk every day and make goat cheese while all the little buggers care about is eating negligent landscaping.
Now if I could just get out of my condo and into a residential address I'd be all set. Seattle Tilth is planning goat husbandry classes so I'll take this one step at a time. Goat cheese and wine party coming soon!!
My words of the day: "Not being able to race BLOWS." We went to watch Starcrossed last night and my muscles started to quiver and my legs wanted to chase people down, but I was in Keens and jeans so that wasn't going to happen. It also sucked to hear stories from fellow racers who have moved up to Cat 3 this year, racers that I was easily beating before on a singlespeed. It's like being in school and being held back. The class you were supposed to graduate with is proceeding as usual and you're hanging with the slow kids who pick their nose. I've toyed with the idea of building my base back up for a few months and then doing a few cross races at the end of the season (when everyone else is tired! brilliant tactic!), but in Reality Land that's just a day dreaming fantasy and not terribly smart. But hell, who doesn't want to be part of a racing community that's all about mud, cold, rain, beer, and utter insanity? That in itself is reason to get out of bed on a Sunday morning and challenge everything safe and normal.
Otherwise, it's freakin' cold out there, summer has officially checked out and it smells even more like snow is in the air. Hopefully that's on tap because Zack just got his second pair of tele skis in a week so the boy needs something to ride them on. I'm eager to take out my pretty blue tele skis again after a year off (note: never ever lose track of other interests in racing's off season). My goal this year is to deftly negotiate blue runs without feeling like I'm jumping off a skyscraper.
Our team is looking mighty fine for the 2008 season. We've snagged one girl from another team and recruited two magnanimous ladies who have never raced before, but have their own stellar athletic backgrounds. Little things like, oh I dunno, mountain climbing and Olympic-class rowing. And best of all they smile like the sun and laugh a lot, which goes a long way when the season has such huge ups and downs and it's all about having fun on bikes, right? The girls on our Sick & Injured List are almost done licking their wounds and laying down plans for winter training to show up in the spring to make up for a long, lost season. That in itself will add 5 of us to the lineup! That's half of our 2007 team!
I'm off to pull on my wool knickers and go for a ride. One day closer to charging out of the gate.
I want everyone to get along.
I want everyone to be nice to each other.
I want people to smile more.
I want kids to be able to ride their bicycles anywhere in town without fear.
I want people to live a wonderful life full of stories and adventure and die of old age.
I don't want to see anger.
I don't want to see hate.
I don't want to see death at a young age.
I don't want to see sadness.
Somewhere not long ago, I caught sight of a small bumper sticker that said in simple block lettering, "Love Wins", when I needed to see it most. I still want to believe that it does win through all the grief that permeates most days.
But it starts with one person, and I think today it starts with me.
And tomorrow it will start with you.
Burning Man was a most awesome event and I can't recommend it more highly enough. I was pretty amazed by how much there is to do no matter who you are or what your interests are. I thought that I'd be overwhelmed by living so closely with 40k people (and the portapotties to support them), but the desert can swallow up their cacophony pretty well and leave you with plenty of solace. Best of all, bikes are everywhere and the only real way to get around. You ride your bike to the loo, to the playa, to go dancing, to get ice, to check out other camps, and to get away from it all. The bikes are decorated in the silliest of outfits, like Halloween for a whole week. If only the outside world would adopt such traditions it would make the day-to-day doldrums pretty fun.
I fell in love with a few pieces of art, such as Crude Awakening, a large sculpture with metal figures giving praise to a full-scale oil derrick. On Saturday night they blew the derrick up in what was figured to be the largest non-military propane explosion (blowing shit up is BIG fun down there), then let it burn to the ground. Most people left the exhibition at that, but the next morning as I ventured out on my bike I saw a sight across the playa that literally brought tears to my eyes: among the ashes of the derrick the artists were placing a 50ft living sequoia tree. The humanoid sculptures, black and scarred from the previous night's explosion, were now praying to the tree. Just brilliant to see.
We drove through central Oregon to get down there, which is one of the most scenic places I've ever seen. On the way home we stayed one night at the Summer Lake hot springs where we enjoyed our first real cleanse and slept under the stars, free of rambling art cars playing techno and sand encrusting your pillow. As the sun began to lighten the sky we woke up to coyotes howling and it was one of those moments when you take a picture with your mind and hold on to it forever.
Most of all, I took back memories of a community where there are none of society's class structure, where everyone is equal and helps each other succeed and to enjoy their experience. You walk down the street and everyone says Hi, or you're welcomed to drop into someone's camp and just strike up a conversation. I met more scientists, intellectuals, and thinkers this week than in 30some years of riding my bike around and not really talking to anyone. The good news is that they're infiltrating much of the outside world and once you've been to the desert you can't help but want to bring its influences back with you.
Damn. After I finish the Dragon Poo Tea in 2 weeks I'd have less than 3 months to make sure this kryptonite has left my body, lose 10#, and train enough to be able to withstand 45 minutes of deathly exertion on a singlespeed bike in the mud, rain, and cold of November.
Doable? Anything is doable if you're stubborn enough.
Do I have any base training to back me up? hahahahahahaaaaaaa......
Would my body forgive me? Not likely.
Do I tell Dr. Peter what I did when I have yet another relapse? Hell no.
Neil has totally turned me on to the Pacific Fabrics stores to hunt and gather fabric for our group's end-of-the-next-month adventure. I keep coming home with yards of new colorful, fuzzy, satiny, fun stuff, and I have no idea what to do with them. All I know is that in my head I'll come out looking awfully sexy and cute. In reality.....well we'll see what kind of emergency costume help I can get to fit that active imagination of mine.
But for now all I'll say is: pink fuzzballs and green satin. HEAVEN!!
I played hookie Friday and drove out to the coast for a brief trip into the surf. Brief because the waves were a lot bigger and faster than I anticipated and I found myself out farther than I'm comfortable. Imagining myself being swept out 15 miles offshore before the Coasties could find me, I meekly made my way back in and played in the white water, working on basics and regaining that muscle memory. Calling it a day, I made my way back into the jungle of traffic and to the city for the rest of the action-packed weekend.
The rest of Friday and Saturday I spent with the local homegirls who were racing at the FSA Grand Prix track races at Marymoor. The organizers did a great job bringing in scores of world and national talent to the event. I'm sure if all the medalists wore their bling around their necks that it could all be seen from space.
Nevertheless, our local girls signed on for a bevy of sprint and endurance races, such as the keirin and match sprints. Everyone pretty much knew they were in it for the experience, the kind you can't get riding with the same ladies every Wed night. Jane, Lara, and Gwen (fresh off the plane from Minneapolis!) came out of their keirin races Friday night with the most joyous and exuberant smiles I've seen in a long time. Jane declared this her new favorite event, esp when Tamara told her that it's totally legit to body-check and even head-butt others in the race. Later that night we watched Lara stick it out in the 5x8 Points race, going Mach 10 with all these national champions for 40 loooooong laps and staying in the pack the whole way.
Saturday morning was the qualifying events for the sprint match races. Out of 19 women, they were only letting 12 into the sprints. Jane was bummed that she didn't make the cut, but HELLO, she did a damn fine job nixing a full second off her times from last year, and this was after battling EBV for nearly 3 months earlier this summer. With a full month til Masters Nationals she'll have plenty of time to buff up for her next big competition. Gwen made it into the sprints and did a great job holding her own against the orange she-beast from Alpenrose, then in the repechage to play cat and mouse with other world champs.
Later in the day we hooked up with some other team members for dinner and margaritas at Agua Verde, then another last trip back to Marymoor for the women's Miss n' Out and more insane men's mass start races. I made it home completely exhausted from two full days and I didn't even ride! I think it was from answering "Why aren't you racing?" about a hundred times and trying to explain the nature of my illness. Next year, next year....
In 2 weeks I get this back:
No more dragging my chains around like a restless spirit caught between two worlds. I'm holding on and not letting go as we set off on the next stage of adventure.
- 8:30ish a.m. The crosswalk sign dings at the intersection of 25th and the Burke. A nice old lady on her hybrid bike and yellow reflective vest starts to pedal through the CROSSWALK as a stupid co-ed driver proceeds to take her cherished right hand turn and plow through the intersection without regard for anyone in the crosswalk. Out of habit I don't enter any crosswalk until I'm sure that all cars have stopped and see the pedestrians or cyclists going through. The little old lady didn't have this instinct however and was about to get mowed down. I yell out to her, "Look out!!! Look out!!!". The little old lady finally stops just as the stupid coed realizes she is doing a very bad thing. I ride in front of the coed's car sternly informing the driver that she almost killed someone in a CROSSWALK. She mouths that she was sorry, like I am chastising her for bringing home the wrong kind of breakfast cereal.
- Ten minutes later. I stop at the intersection of 65th and the Burke. A nice woman driver stops in front of the crosswalk to let me proceed. Barreling down 65th behind her is some jackass in a run-down pizza delivery car. He finally sees that there is a stopped vehicle 30 feet in front of him and he slams on the brakes. A cloud of smoke, dust, and road debris shoot up from under his car. This is all as I'm riding in front of the nice lady driver through the crosswalk. If he hadn't woken up so quickly he would have plowed into the back of her car, then she would have gone right into me.
- The ride home. Crossing Blakeley and the Burke in front of TiCycles. A nice man in an SUV stops on the far side of the crosswalk to let me through. As I proceed, a jackass comes zooming up the small hill wailing his horn at me like I'm a total impediment to the rest of his day. He's not slowing down for me in the CROSSWALK, so I hurry it up and across, mumbling to myself that I had the right of way.
- Finally make it to the Ballard Bridge. I make the turn to get onto the pedestrian/bike sidewalk and a phreddy bike commuter riding a hybrid in yet another yellow reflective vest is standing there with his bike waving me to pass around him. "Go ahead," I say with a smile. He says nervously, "Well ok. I've had 2 beers..." like riding his bike across this bridge with a buzz was about to be the boldest thing he's done since he was 21. I tell him that I'll make sure he doesn't end up in the water. I watch from a safe distance behind as he wavers back and forth along the sidewalk. I think about all the times I've been a pinball on the side of this bridge with far more than 2 beers in me. The guy makes it across the bridge and down to Fisherman's Terminal. I look away for a second and look back to see him sprawled on the sidewalk, the bike relieved to be free. I stop to ask him if he's ok and he is, a little embarrassed. He still has to ride all the way to West Seattle. God speed, man. I hope you make it home ok.
I saw Dr. Peter today. I've been in denial the past month about having a relapse with my health. "I'll get better next week" has been my motto ever since trying those track races the beginning of June. But after being exhausted week after week and not having the energy to do more than sit at work or only an easy commute on the bike....here we go again. He asked if I felt the same as back in April when this fatigue came back and I had to admit that I did, which was pretty hard to say. It's not easy to admit that you're sick and can't make yourself better. As a doctor, Peter is frustrated too, but he said I have a really stubborn virus here and it was bound to happen with the "super numbers" that my antibodies have been recording.
So today we met for the plan. He'll bump up the prescription in the herbal extract tea and put me on it for 22 days to really nuke the virus once and for all. I'm all for nuking this thing regardless of the, well, unpleasant side effects he says may accompany this stronger formula. I've missed most of the fun of summer and don't want to miss all the fun of....winter. Gads no.
So next week I'll start my Super Magical Dragon Poo tea regimen with lots of doses of surfing and sleeping mixed in.
It's the hottest day of the year and Seattlites' ample, white bellies are melting along the banks of shorelines everywhere. No one in the great Northwest knows what to do when it hits 95F except sit on the couch with 10 fans blowing and watch "Danger Jim" Foreman fry an egg on the hood of a car while imploring citizens to drink plenty of water and take it easy. Thanks Jim.
I got a fine enough breeze riding my bike to work today. Even better, I had plans to meet Karah at Agua Verde after work for icy margaritas and yummy food. Cruising down the Burke in the hot afternoon sun en route to my destination I felt something pelt my helmet and knock my head back a bit. Suddenly there was white goop dripping from the front of my helmet and a foul stench (non-sweat related) emanating from above. I quickly stopped to assess and confirmed that I'd just been nailed by some bird during liftoff. The white crap hit the vents on my helmet, oozed over the edge of my sunglasses and onto my cheek, then splattered onto my shoulder and left leg. Of all the most DISGUSTING things to happen to me. Thank god it was the hottest day of the year and I had a water bottle with me that I could wash the shit off my face and most everything else. I managed to get to it before it solidified and washed away the stench too.
When I met Karah I told her of the incident and she excitedly told me that in Mexican cultures being shit upon by a bird is considered good luck so something good will be coming my way. Well I guess I can't argue with that.
Splat.
My alarm went off at 4:45 a.m. and Momo was elated that I would choose to feed him so much earlier than normal. No, this wasn't a time to get a cat conditioned for earlier feedings, this was a time to get ready to go surfing! I packed up the salmon, cheese, and juice in the cooler, threw all the neoprene I owned into the plastic tub, and coaxed my big longboard into its cozy bag for the 3 hour trip out to the coast.
I pulled up to Perry's house at the anointed hour of 6 a.m., but after 15 minutes it was apparent no one in the house was stirring, except for a few hushed doggie "woofs" that quickly lost interest. I had sad thoughts of this trip not happening and my one chance to finally go to Pt. Grenville lost. I finally called Perry and he realized he'd slept through his alarm. The occupants of the house began to move and the ball finally started rolling. We threw our gear and two humongous longboards into the back of his Ford Excursion (ok maybe megaSUVs come in handy) and took off to see what the day would bring.
Turns out that Perry is quite the PNW outdoorsman. I know him from racing and training at the track, and a few people, including Zack and Jane, know him as their favorite dentist. Aside from those well known activities, he's also an avid hunter, fisherman, skier, budding triathlete, and father of 3 equally active adult daughters. Along the drive he narrated stories tied to local towns or rivers that we'd drive by: good fishing spots, the best local cheesemaker, where the cops always have speed traps, worthy restaurants, when this stand of trees had been cut down, etc. He's the real deal when it comes to Washington natives. In Hoquium we stopped at the local grocery store where he knew they make donuts fresh Sunday mornings. We got a few and yes, they were delicious. "NOW we can go surfing!" he exclaimed.
Up to the Quinault reservation we met his old friend, Cliff, who is a tribal elder. Perry and Cliff go hunting in Montana every year to bag elk, and fishing for steelhead and salmon in Washington rivers. They know each other's families and enjoyed catching up. Soon we were back in the big rig and down to the beach to see what the ocean would serve us. Cliff would follow behind and hang out at the beach watching us bob in the water.
It was low tide and was easy to drive the big rig out onto the beach and up to the northern edges where the waves would wrap around the Point and hopefully bring in some good waves. A survey with the binoculars showed there wasn't much swell (marine forecast of 3ft) and anything bigger coming in was totally closing out. Not letting an initial negative report deter us, we suited up and headed out. The wind had been coming from the NW the past few days, which brought in a lot of colder water from Alaska. Naive me never pays attention to such details and left her 5mm neoprene gloves and hat in the car. It only took a few minutes for my hands to be completely numb and without any sun to warm them up I finally went in for relief.
Back out, some decent medium-sized sets were coming in, but otherwise it was larger close-out sets followed by double-over-ankles sets. And with a gray sky the light was really flat and hard to judge what was coming in, so by the time you realized you should turn around and paddle, the waves were almost on top of you. I hadn't done a popup in ages so I took a few turns playing in the white water to get the muscle memory back. It helped a lot and later I managed to catch a few good waves. Perry had a great morning too and rode his wooden board in great style.
Even if the waves weren't epic and my years off the board weren't making me as sharp as before, just being in the water was an instant reprieve from all the other bullshit that's been preoccupying my life. Bobbing out in the water or ducking freezing waves, there is no Epstein-Barr, there is no heavy disappointment in not being able to race for a second season, there is no frustration in my body not bouncing back like it should, there is no overwhelming unfairness when I see all the other cyclists buff and tan and challenging themselves, there is no uncomfortable pause of lingering skepticism when I explain to others what's wrong we me and why I can't race or go play, there are no cars trying to kill me on my commute or drivers flipping me attitude, basically there is nothing in the water wanting anything from me. It's just me, my board, and the ocean....being.
After about 3 hours the salmon in the car started calling me so I went in for some lunch. Perry followed and we had a nice lunch on the beach with Cliff. Perry was concerned about all the holiday traffic going back to Seattle, so we wisely packed up and headed back to the city. It was a good time to end the session. We'd had good waves and as we drove off the tide continued out further and diminished any other swell trying to make its way in.
On the drive back home I endlessly daydreamed about how I need to get surfing back into my routine. It was something that I loved to do on a regular basis until I got detoured with this bike racing thing. Getting to know Perry more showed how possible it is to balance so many aspects of your life. That's a good goal to work on in one's life: balance.
