"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.
