Today was not my day. I really think that Murphy guy must've been onto something when he said that "If something can go wrong, it will". Today has been a model example of Murphy's Law. I'll preface this story by saying that this post will not be particularly cheery, although I'll be trying to counterpoint most of the negatives with a positive.
We'll start with a positive and follow it with the first of the negatives of the week/day. So on Sunday I biked up Reddish Knob again, this time with a few riders I didn't know too well. It was beautiful and difficult, as Reddish tends to be. I started up front, but as usual fell back during the climb. It was a slow plod, but it was perfect. My knee started hurting a bit around mile six of the climb, but more on that later. Suffice it to say, the ride ended in the best way possible: at an all you can eat buffet. I'll just come out and say it... EVERY SINGLE LONG BIKE RIDE SHOULD END AT A BUFFET. Totally perfect afternoon/evening. But onto the crux of this post, the sad-clown stuff.
So, to begin, I'm currently injured. Sometime during or shortly after Shamrock, I developed Patellar Tendonitis and Runner's Knee. Not particularly serious injuries, but irritating. My right knee hurts quite a bit and gets fairly stiff when I do any significant exercise. Running is the worst for it, but even when I cycle it gets a bit sore. Anyway, I wasn't certain what was wrong with it until yesterday's ortho appointment. I was relieved to hear that it wouldn't incapacitate me, and that I could continue exercising as long as I used a brace, took a prescription anti-inflamatory, and perform some stretching exercises to strengthen supporting muscles and relieve inflamation. I did my first run in two weeks, four or five miles, yesterday. It was phenomenal. Slow, but phenomenal. I don't intend to go so long without running ever again. Not running was torture. Sadly, I might have to go without biking for a little bit.
Today started off pleasantly enough. It was a balmy forty something, probably closer to fifty in the sunshine, this morning. Hardly a cloud in the sky, and no wind. Perfect riding weather in my opinion. When I got to my instructor's house, there was hardly anyone there. Apparantly Tim is at a conference somewhere and just asked us to ride on our own, to keep in shape. I was a bit disappointed, because I'd wanted to talk with him about the pros and cons of touring with paniers versus hitching a trailer on back. Ohh yeah. So I bought my ticket to Vancouver last night! C2M is on, baby! But anyway; not having Tim there meant making up our own route, which was something most of us were uncomfortable doing, so I led.
That was all well and good, until we went over like four sets of train tracks. Didn't beef or anything, but the bike got really jostled. Somewhere down the line, my chain jumped and for some reason it jumped at a very severe angle. Maybe I was cross chaining when the chain dropped, but in any case, it got jammed. Bad. Like beyond my ability to fix on the road. Essentially, the chain is jammed between my smallest chainring and my right seat stay. It's twisted and bent, and I'm pretty sure it's dead. At least nothing's wrong with the frame. In either case, Jonas has been locked up on a ligh post downtown. With the way things are going, I'm really worried that he's gonna get stolen or something. Even though he basically can't even be wheeled away, and certainly not ridden away, because of the chain.
Hopefully a bike shop can perform some much needed surgery, and it won't cost too much!
Peace out, Hombres!
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Sham Rock On!
I have a shoe attatched to one of my bike pedals right now. I have a special pair of shoes that does that, and it all works very nicely when I am also attached to my shoes. Clipless pedal systems are great for power transfer and efficiency, not so great when they won't clip out. Which is precisely what happened this morning when I tried to get off my bike after riding to class. In retrospect, I had been having trouble clipping out on my right for a while; I fell at the top of Port Republic on Friday. It was pretty funny. Having to take off my shoe and leave it on the bike when I locked it up was not such a side-splitter though. I'm glad that road cycling tomorrow is in the shop, so I can have Tim show me how to fix it. Anyway, this past weekend was a fairly eventful one, both in terms of fitness and also in general good times.
The Shamrock Half was on Sunday, and it was everything that I'd hoped it would be. Jared and I headed out for a full blown race weekend experience on Friday afternoon. Prior to heading out at 4:30, Chris and I hit the road for a thirty mile ride; it began fairly chilly, just barely fifty degrees. Still, after a little sprint through campus the only things that were feeling the cold were our fingertips and ears. It was gorgeous out, with little less than a light headwind to slow us down. The route took us through the town of Dayton, down Dry River Road, and finally back to Harrisonburg via Route 33. The ride was very organic, with no planning at all; we just rode. Serendipitously, Sacha appeared in our parking lot and accompanied us to a post-ride carbo load at Vietopia. It was heaven.
The drive down to the coast with Jared had very few bumps, aside from one missed exit and a little backtracking we ended up at Cliff's house essentially on time. We were greeted at the door by my fairly inebriated friend and led to the kitchen table, three more drunken faces, and several bottles of wine. I think Jared was a little taken aback by the ease in which we were treated like part of the family, but it took all of two seconds before we were both grinning ear to ear. It was definitely a portent of the good times that were to come over the next seventy-twoish hours. We polished off a few glasses and got acquainted before the oldsters got to bed and we headed out the door to give Jared his first taste of gay nightlife.
I'd built up the first encouter probably a little bit too much for Jared prior to getting there. He's a pretty churchy guy, definitely conservative, but I think he figured out that I wasn't going to take "no" for an answer and agreed to a night out on the town. It's good, because we would've dragged him out kicking and screaming if he'd said no. Anyway, Virginia Beach doesn't have much of a gay scene. We hit two bars, one of which was exceedingly sketchy and whose name escapes me. I'll just call it "The Manhole" for fun. The other was much more congenial and had a very fun atmosphere, and was called "The Rainbow Cactus".
For one reason or another, both bars had Western themes. The Manhole was definitely more of a bar, with a crumby little dancing stage with a few erratic go-go types. One was most certainly a drag queen minus the drag, the other seemed to have an affinity for flailing around and calling that dancing. Probably a meth queen. Of course, no seedy gay bar is complete without a quiet, sixty year old man staring out from a dimly lit corner. It was absolute heaven! We had a few drinks and waxed philosophic (read: judged everyone who walked in the door) while I did my best to break Jared out of his stupor. But for one or two instances of two men dancing together, we could have been at any crappy bar. Not the case with "The Rainbow Cactus".
Following a brief sojurn out to CVS to get some cash, as well as my brief stint in public urination (still haven't been arrested whooooooo!), we made our way to bar #2. Definitely had a good feel to it, many more young people there, most of them infinitely more attractive than the patrons at the previous establishment. Ohhh. And there were drag queens. I'm not exactly a patron of drag, but damn if that wasn't a really good show. I'm probably just biased though, because the second song out on the dance floor was "Single Ladies". Coupled with my slight buzz...let's just say "Dance Machine" doesn't even do it justice. A few other highlights from the night include the group of senior citizens sitting squarely next to the dance floor, and mine and Cliff's subsequent rescue of two drunken old ladies who fell out of their seats. Sadly, Jared never joined us on the dance floor. Epic fail. Ohh well, baby steps right?
Woke up the latest of the bunch at 9:30 on Saturday morning with a slight headache and got to fumble with a strangely complicated shower. Once in a blue moon I find a shower aparatus that stumps me for a good two or three minutes, generally ending with my near scalding/hypothermia. Afterwards it was gravy. Jared, who had never been to Virginia Beach, and I decided to head out to the beach and take in some sights, as well as picking up our packets from the convention center. Afterwards, we took something like a three hour lunch at a nifty hole in the wall bar with one cook. The jury's still out on the clam chowder. Of course, the crowning achievement of the day was the twenty five mile bike tour of the city and surrounding suburbs, hitting various historical landmarks from Cliff's life and childhood. We got lost a bit, and ended up doing some pretty hairy urban riding, but all in all definitely an adventure. Tied for best part of the ride was the sweet national park we rode through, or the extremely bitchy woman we met outside the food lion. Or the fact that all twenty five miles were completed on a shiny red cruiser with a forty pound frame.
Our day ended like all good days should end, with good food and good drink and an open fire. I slept like a rock, which was good since we had to be up at 5:00 AM the next morning for the half. Surprisingly, I woke up the spryest of the young guys, with Jared moaning about how he had to do this all the time student teaching (and yet still had trouble doing it), and Cliff taking his sweet time as usual crawling out of bed. I downed some fruit, granola, and oatmeal with brown sugar before pinning on my bib and hopping out into the cold air. A short ride to the boardwalk, and we scattered off to our different corrals. Ohh, so a short explanation of the race.
Runners are seperated into corrals, which really are exactly like you'd think: holding pens for all of us until the race starts. There are five corrals in total, segregated by our estimated race time. I was the only one in the first corral, with a race time of around 1 hour 45 minutes. Jared was in the second, Cliff and his dad Rex were in the fifth. Since most of our group had already scattered, Cliff, Jared, and I agreed upon a rendevouz point and headed off to the start.
My corral was populated by all the elite runners. Most of them were tricked out in full marathon regalia like belts and ironman jerseys and such. I began feeling a little out of my depth, but excited. The air practically buzzed. There really is nothing like the exhale before the start of a race. I soon saw that I really did belong in the front after a few miles had gone by and I realized that I wasn't breathing anything like the other runners around me. In fact, I never really went beyond a little deep breathing for the entire race. The course was absolutely beautiful, beginning in the city and taking us through a pine forest and eventually rouding into Fort Story and putting us abreast the coast. As usual, the last few miles of the race really seemed to crawl. To call them exceptionally difficult wouldn't have been true. I hurt a bit, sure, but I distinctly remembered hurting more from much shorter runs in the past. I could tell that I had trained correctly for the race. I ended strong near the front of the pack, well in front of everyone else in our group.
Jared finished about twelve minutes after me, with Rex pulling a surprising 2 hour finish time. Cliff rounded it off at 2 hours fifteen, impressive considering he'd never done more than eight miles and hadn't run for almost a month. After we collected ourselves at the beach, we headed into the tent for some food, and of course, beer. A lot of strangers gave us their beer tickets, so I ended up downing eight pints or so before we left the beach. Drinking after a long run is a funny thing; with your blood volume so low afterwards, a few drinks can be all it takes to bring you down. Let's just say I was pretty happy when I poured myself into the car afterwards. We ended up at an authentic Irish bar for one last drink, before heading back to the Hamaker's for one last small gathering. Food was epic, company was epic.
I'd like to close off an incredibly long, and probably quite dull, post with a declaration of thanks for our hosts. Thanks Rex and Lisa for letting us into your home and feeding us and entertaining us, and most of all for making us feel like family. I will most certainly be taking you up on your offer of a return visit sometime in the future. As for you Cliff, I can't fit enough "thank you'"s on this blog, but trust and believe, I'll be returning the favor.
Peace out, Hombres!
The Shamrock Half was on Sunday, and it was everything that I'd hoped it would be. Jared and I headed out for a full blown race weekend experience on Friday afternoon. Prior to heading out at 4:30, Chris and I hit the road for a thirty mile ride; it began fairly chilly, just barely fifty degrees. Still, after a little sprint through campus the only things that were feeling the cold were our fingertips and ears. It was gorgeous out, with little less than a light headwind to slow us down. The route took us through the town of Dayton, down Dry River Road, and finally back to Harrisonburg via Route 33. The ride was very organic, with no planning at all; we just rode. Serendipitously, Sacha appeared in our parking lot and accompanied us to a post-ride carbo load at Vietopia. It was heaven.
The drive down to the coast with Jared had very few bumps, aside from one missed exit and a little backtracking we ended up at Cliff's house essentially on time. We were greeted at the door by my fairly inebriated friend and led to the kitchen table, three more drunken faces, and several bottles of wine. I think Jared was a little taken aback by the ease in which we were treated like part of the family, but it took all of two seconds before we were both grinning ear to ear. It was definitely a portent of the good times that were to come over the next seventy-twoish hours. We polished off a few glasses and got acquainted before the oldsters got to bed and we headed out the door to give Jared his first taste of gay nightlife.
I'd built up the first encouter probably a little bit too much for Jared prior to getting there. He's a pretty churchy guy, definitely conservative, but I think he figured out that I wasn't going to take "no" for an answer and agreed to a night out on the town. It's good, because we would've dragged him out kicking and screaming if he'd said no. Anyway, Virginia Beach doesn't have much of a gay scene. We hit two bars, one of which was exceedingly sketchy and whose name escapes me. I'll just call it "The Manhole" for fun. The other was much more congenial and had a very fun atmosphere, and was called "The Rainbow Cactus".
For one reason or another, both bars had Western themes. The Manhole was definitely more of a bar, with a crumby little dancing stage with a few erratic go-go types. One was most certainly a drag queen minus the drag, the other seemed to have an affinity for flailing around and calling that dancing. Probably a meth queen. Of course, no seedy gay bar is complete without a quiet, sixty year old man staring out from a dimly lit corner. It was absolute heaven! We had a few drinks and waxed philosophic (read: judged everyone who walked in the door) while I did my best to break Jared out of his stupor. But for one or two instances of two men dancing together, we could have been at any crappy bar. Not the case with "The Rainbow Cactus".
Following a brief sojurn out to CVS to get some cash, as well as my brief stint in public urination (still haven't been arrested whooooooo!), we made our way to bar #2. Definitely had a good feel to it, many more young people there, most of them infinitely more attractive than the patrons at the previous establishment. Ohhh. And there were drag queens. I'm not exactly a patron of drag, but damn if that wasn't a really good show. I'm probably just biased though, because the second song out on the dance floor was "Single Ladies". Coupled with my slight buzz...let's just say "Dance Machine" doesn't even do it justice. A few other highlights from the night include the group of senior citizens sitting squarely next to the dance floor, and mine and Cliff's subsequent rescue of two drunken old ladies who fell out of their seats. Sadly, Jared never joined us on the dance floor. Epic fail. Ohh well, baby steps right?
Woke up the latest of the bunch at 9:30 on Saturday morning with a slight headache and got to fumble with a strangely complicated shower. Once in a blue moon I find a shower aparatus that stumps me for a good two or three minutes, generally ending with my near scalding/hypothermia. Afterwards it was gravy. Jared, who had never been to Virginia Beach, and I decided to head out to the beach and take in some sights, as well as picking up our packets from the convention center. Afterwards, we took something like a three hour lunch at a nifty hole in the wall bar with one cook. The jury's still out on the clam chowder. Of course, the crowning achievement of the day was the twenty five mile bike tour of the city and surrounding suburbs, hitting various historical landmarks from Cliff's life and childhood. We got lost a bit, and ended up doing some pretty hairy urban riding, but all in all definitely an adventure. Tied for best part of the ride was the sweet national park we rode through, or the extremely bitchy woman we met outside the food lion. Or the fact that all twenty five miles were completed on a shiny red cruiser with a forty pound frame.
Our day ended like all good days should end, with good food and good drink and an open fire. I slept like a rock, which was good since we had to be up at 5:00 AM the next morning for the half. Surprisingly, I woke up the spryest of the young guys, with Jared moaning about how he had to do this all the time student teaching (and yet still had trouble doing it), and Cliff taking his sweet time as usual crawling out of bed. I downed some fruit, granola, and oatmeal with brown sugar before pinning on my bib and hopping out into the cold air. A short ride to the boardwalk, and we scattered off to our different corrals. Ohh, so a short explanation of the race.
Runners are seperated into corrals, which really are exactly like you'd think: holding pens for all of us until the race starts. There are five corrals in total, segregated by our estimated race time. I was the only one in the first corral, with a race time of around 1 hour 45 minutes. Jared was in the second, Cliff and his dad Rex were in the fifth. Since most of our group had already scattered, Cliff, Jared, and I agreed upon a rendevouz point and headed off to the start.
My corral was populated by all the elite runners. Most of them were tricked out in full marathon regalia like belts and ironman jerseys and such. I began feeling a little out of my depth, but excited. The air practically buzzed. There really is nothing like the exhale before the start of a race. I soon saw that I really did belong in the front after a few miles had gone by and I realized that I wasn't breathing anything like the other runners around me. In fact, I never really went beyond a little deep breathing for the entire race. The course was absolutely beautiful, beginning in the city and taking us through a pine forest and eventually rouding into Fort Story and putting us abreast the coast. As usual, the last few miles of the race really seemed to crawl. To call them exceptionally difficult wouldn't have been true. I hurt a bit, sure, but I distinctly remembered hurting more from much shorter runs in the past. I could tell that I had trained correctly for the race. I ended strong near the front of the pack, well in front of everyone else in our group.
Jared finished about twelve minutes after me, with Rex pulling a surprising 2 hour finish time. Cliff rounded it off at 2 hours fifteen, impressive considering he'd never done more than eight miles and hadn't run for almost a month. After we collected ourselves at the beach, we headed into the tent for some food, and of course, beer. A lot of strangers gave us their beer tickets, so I ended up downing eight pints or so before we left the beach. Drinking after a long run is a funny thing; with your blood volume so low afterwards, a few drinks can be all it takes to bring you down. Let's just say I was pretty happy when I poured myself into the car afterwards. We ended up at an authentic Irish bar for one last drink, before heading back to the Hamaker's for one last small gathering. Food was epic, company was epic.
I'd like to close off an incredibly long, and probably quite dull, post with a declaration of thanks for our hosts. Thanks Rex and Lisa for letting us into your home and feeding us and entertaining us, and most of all for making us feel like family. I will most certainly be taking you up on your offer of a return visit sometime in the future. As for you Cliff, I can't fit enough "thank you'"s on this blog, but trust and believe, I'll be returning the favor.
Peace out, Hombres!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Some Housekeeping
The day is fast approaching when I get to see just how out of riding shape I and my bike are. Today I had my first day of Road Cycling; the class was consigned to a quick run down of the syllabus, a questions sesh, and a brief meet and greet. Pretty standard. The class is big, considerably bigger than mountain biking, with about twenty people in attendance. I'm looking forward to some group riding, and the inevitable mishaps that occur because of them. Hopefully there's no gnarly road rash in any of our futures, or worse. I have to admit that I spent the start of the class sizing everyone up and comparing myself to them. It's hard to gauge everyone's ability or experience, but I sincerely doubt I'll be the fastest person. I hope I'm not, anyway. The men are all powerfully built, athletic looking sorts, so assuming they're on actual roadbikes and not mountain or hybrids, they'll all probably be good contenders. A few of the women seem to have some significant experience, or at least the right equipment. It'll be nice not being the only one in span and chams. We all love to dress the part, but techy clothing does not a good cyclist make, afterall.
My legs have been bothering me a bit recently. I suspect that running on the beach did that, although I couldn't say for sure. In either case, they haven't hindered my running much but I worry about whether they'll be able to crank out the watts in a pinch. My bike's as big a problem. I've been meaning to give it some love for a long time now, what with the rear hub rattling in protest everytime I take it out. The chain also likes to scream at me every so often, and doubtless the crank and casette should've been replaced about a thousand miles ago. If my bike were my boyfriend, I'd definitely get in some serious trouble for domestic abuse or neglect. It's with a blend of reverence, apathy, and lack of free time and money that I've rationalized not taking the bike to a shop.
I really can't believe I'm still riding Jonas at all; I feel like I should have him bronzed and hung up on a wall. A loving caption beneath reading, "The Bike I Conquered The Country On", or something to that effect. He's a year old, maybe, and he has six thousand miles on him. Six thousand... God. More than some-many-people will bike in their lifetime, more than some people have traveled, by car even. And it's funny; some people, a lot of people, will think that this makes me a good cyclist. Maybe I am. All I know is that I love it, a lot. The fact is, I'll probably get dropped by guys and girls who've ridden a fraction as much. And I cannot wait; good things on the horizon, not the least of which is Shamrock Half on Sunday.
We're heading out towards VA Beach first thing...well, as soon as Jared gets out of school and gets back to Harrisonburg. From there, it's just a few measley hours 'till we're on the coast and heading towards what I'm told is the crappiest gay bar in the world. I'm looking forward to judging it against what are considered good ones. I've never really warmed to the experience, since I am a terrible dancer and have on at least one ocassion been kicked out of a bar. A word of caution to any of you reading: don't dance with a drag queen when she's putting on a show. They don't like it. That said, it's fun to make out with the ocassional stranger that you usually can't see very well while you're trying not to step on him. It's also going to be really fun putting Jared into that environment. I've let him know that he's going, like it or not.
Ohh yeah, and the running should prove to be lots of fun as well. If I were to make a guess as to what the ranking will be... Jared will beat me by virtue of his longer stride, I will beat Cliff by virtue of my better fitness, and Cliff will maybe not even finish by virtue of the fact that he hasn't trained propperly. In any case, we're going to eat really well. Hopefully Jackie will also join us for the evening, and we can spend the remainder of our Sunday cheering her and Zach on. And getting wasted. I love it when your blood volume is so low that you're slammed after a few beers.
Well, there you go. Life is good and the cotton is high, baby. Now all I've gotta do is make it to graduation. Peace out, hombres!
My legs have been bothering me a bit recently. I suspect that running on the beach did that, although I couldn't say for sure. In either case, they haven't hindered my running much but I worry about whether they'll be able to crank out the watts in a pinch. My bike's as big a problem. I've been meaning to give it some love for a long time now, what with the rear hub rattling in protest everytime I take it out. The chain also likes to scream at me every so often, and doubtless the crank and casette should've been replaced about a thousand miles ago. If my bike were my boyfriend, I'd definitely get in some serious trouble for domestic abuse or neglect. It's with a blend of reverence, apathy, and lack of free time and money that I've rationalized not taking the bike to a shop.
I really can't believe I'm still riding Jonas at all; I feel like I should have him bronzed and hung up on a wall. A loving caption beneath reading, "The Bike I Conquered The Country On", or something to that effect. He's a year old, maybe, and he has six thousand miles on him. Six thousand... God. More than some-many-people will bike in their lifetime, more than some people have traveled, by car even. And it's funny; some people, a lot of people, will think that this makes me a good cyclist. Maybe I am. All I know is that I love it, a lot. The fact is, I'll probably get dropped by guys and girls who've ridden a fraction as much. And I cannot wait; good things on the horizon, not the least of which is Shamrock Half on Sunday.
We're heading out towards VA Beach first thing...well, as soon as Jared gets out of school and gets back to Harrisonburg. From there, it's just a few measley hours 'till we're on the coast and heading towards what I'm told is the crappiest gay bar in the world. I'm looking forward to judging it against what are considered good ones. I've never really warmed to the experience, since I am a terrible dancer and have on at least one ocassion been kicked out of a bar. A word of caution to any of you reading: don't dance with a drag queen when she's putting on a show. They don't like it. That said, it's fun to make out with the ocassional stranger that you usually can't see very well while you're trying not to step on him. It's also going to be really fun putting Jared into that environment. I've let him know that he's going, like it or not.
Ohh yeah, and the running should prove to be lots of fun as well. If I were to make a guess as to what the ranking will be... Jared will beat me by virtue of his longer stride, I will beat Cliff by virtue of my better fitness, and Cliff will maybe not even finish by virtue of the fact that he hasn't trained propperly. In any case, we're going to eat really well. Hopefully Jackie will also join us for the evening, and we can spend the remainder of our Sunday cheering her and Zach on. And getting wasted. I love it when your blood volume is so low that you're slammed after a few beers.
Well, there you go. Life is good and the cotton is high, baby. Now all I've gotta do is make it to graduation. Peace out, hombres!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Mid-Atlantic Climate is Stupid
Still cold here, sadly. I have to admit one of the reasons I'm looking forward to getting out of Virginia is that I really, really don't like its climate in the winter. And yes, anyone from the Northeast will remind me that winters are in fact very mild here. I'm aware. Despite this fact, I cannot stand the fickleness of the weather during the months of February and March. Temperatures like to ricochet between 15 and 70 degrees, usually with only a day between those two extremes. And that's all well and good, but I am frail. I get sick a lot, and alternating temperature extremes do nothing to help me in that fact. Plus, it's just such a tease. If winter could kindly stay winter and spring could stay springy, I'd be really happy. Besides that, I think I'm just over seasons in general. I'll take the eternal summer/springtime of California, please!
That rant aside, a fair amount of developments since January's post. I've gone and gotten myself employed after graduation. Well, the word employed should have quotation marks around it; I wouldn't go so far as to call it a career. I've been hired to lead an adventure trip in the pacific northwest with a few other outdoor enthusiasts. We're hitting British Columbia, Washington, and Oregon over the course of five weeks. We'll be doing a number of different activities, kayaaking and mountain biking and lots of backpacking among them, and I'll be getting two thousand dollars. I also think the experience will serve me well for a future in the outdoor adventure industry. More importantly, the job begins fairly late in the summer and allows me time to complete my Canada to Mexico tour with Katharine. In my opinion, it's the best of both worlds.
Besides that five week stint, I'm looking into an apprenticeship with a company based in Virginia that would greatly increase my job marketability in the outdoor rec industry. It's a pretty sweet gig, and would occupy me from the end of my August job until mid November. The major failing is that it would place me back in Virginia, the very state I am doing my best to escape. It's not that I have a serious hatred for VA, but I feel as though I need to stretch my legs in some new scenery. The fact remains, there are better places to break into the outdoor industry. I'm fairly certain that those will be the jobs I'm pursuing for at least a few years after graduation. But who knows?
That said, with the excitement of the future, the present has somewhat been reduced to a holding station until graduation. Wintertime as usual has curtailed my cycling, and training in general, considerably. Those few freakishly warm days were spent on the back of a bicycle, and there have of course been plenty of hours logged in on the yellow stationaries in UREC. I've been intermittently devoting myself to running, as I have a half marathon coming up later in March. It's been hard, however; constant running is taxing on the body and the mind, and I really enjoy running! We won't even talk about swimming...let's just say I probably won't drown. Probably.
By 8:30 tonight, I will have completed my outdoor ed course. We culminated the whole experience last weekend with a three day, two night backpacking and backcountry camping trip. I found the experience much like I find every little forray into the wilderness: cathartic, relaxing, educational. I loved every second of it, even while I was huddled in my zero degree sleeping bag in the snow. I'm convinced that every person alive, no matter how sheltered or cosmopolitan, should spend a few days out in the woods. Nothing will help you better to make sense of the chaos of your everyday life, or help you realize how trivial the majority of your problems are. Nothing makes the creaure comforts sweeter, either. I learned so much about myself and others, and I am a little sad to see the experience over with. But the end is the beginning is the end, you know?
I'll be finishing up the second half of the semester in Road Cycling. A number of friends I made during Mountain Biking last semester will be taking the road course, many of them rank novices in the sport. I'm really looking forward to the inevitable falls from clipless pedal failure, and of course fine tuning my routes in the valley. I'm also curious to see if there's anything in regards to repair and technique that I can pick up during those eight weeks. In either case, it will be an extremely good time, and exactly the way that I'd like to leave my college experience behind.
Thanks everyone, for reading! I'm not sure when the next big moment in my life will come around. For certain, you can expect some poorly shot photos of the northwest coastline to get up here sometime, either when I start my job or during the Canada to Mexico trip. Summer 2009 will be one to remember, of that I'm quite certain!
Cheers, and Peace Out Hombres,
Mark
That rant aside, a fair amount of developments since January's post. I've gone and gotten myself employed after graduation. Well, the word employed should have quotation marks around it; I wouldn't go so far as to call it a career. I've been hired to lead an adventure trip in the pacific northwest with a few other outdoor enthusiasts. We're hitting British Columbia, Washington, and Oregon over the course of five weeks. We'll be doing a number of different activities, kayaaking and mountain biking and lots of backpacking among them, and I'll be getting two thousand dollars. I also think the experience will serve me well for a future in the outdoor adventure industry. More importantly, the job begins fairly late in the summer and allows me time to complete my Canada to Mexico tour with Katharine. In my opinion, it's the best of both worlds.
Besides that five week stint, I'm looking into an apprenticeship with a company based in Virginia that would greatly increase my job marketability in the outdoor rec industry. It's a pretty sweet gig, and would occupy me from the end of my August job until mid November. The major failing is that it would place me back in Virginia, the very state I am doing my best to escape. It's not that I have a serious hatred for VA, but I feel as though I need to stretch my legs in some new scenery. The fact remains, there are better places to break into the outdoor industry. I'm fairly certain that those will be the jobs I'm pursuing for at least a few years after graduation. But who knows?
That said, with the excitement of the future, the present has somewhat been reduced to a holding station until graduation. Wintertime as usual has curtailed my cycling, and training in general, considerably. Those few freakishly warm days were spent on the back of a bicycle, and there have of course been plenty of hours logged in on the yellow stationaries in UREC. I've been intermittently devoting myself to running, as I have a half marathon coming up later in March. It's been hard, however; constant running is taxing on the body and the mind, and I really enjoy running! We won't even talk about swimming...let's just say I probably won't drown. Probably.
By 8:30 tonight, I will have completed my outdoor ed course. We culminated the whole experience last weekend with a three day, two night backpacking and backcountry camping trip. I found the experience much like I find every little forray into the wilderness: cathartic, relaxing, educational. I loved every second of it, even while I was huddled in my zero degree sleeping bag in the snow. I'm convinced that every person alive, no matter how sheltered or cosmopolitan, should spend a few days out in the woods. Nothing will help you better to make sense of the chaos of your everyday life, or help you realize how trivial the majority of your problems are. Nothing makes the creaure comforts sweeter, either. I learned so much about myself and others, and I am a little sad to see the experience over with. But the end is the beginning is the end, you know?
I'll be finishing up the second half of the semester in Road Cycling. A number of friends I made during Mountain Biking last semester will be taking the road course, many of them rank novices in the sport. I'm really looking forward to the inevitable falls from clipless pedal failure, and of course fine tuning my routes in the valley. I'm also curious to see if there's anything in regards to repair and technique that I can pick up during those eight weeks. In either case, it will be an extremely good time, and exactly the way that I'd like to leave my college experience behind.
Thanks everyone, for reading! I'm not sure when the next big moment in my life will come around. For certain, you can expect some poorly shot photos of the northwest coastline to get up here sometime, either when I start my job or during the Canada to Mexico trip. Summer 2009 will be one to remember, of that I'm quite certain!
Cheers, and Peace Out Hombres,
Mark
Monday, January 12, 2009
CWM and Beyond!
So, the first class of my last semester is set to begin in about thirty minutes. I'll try to fit everything possible that needs to be here, I'm way past due for an update! To begin, the Chris Webber Memorial Ride. Epic, amazing. In every way it is a bike and build trip, only it's nicely compacted into a week rather than eight or nine. We rode from Orlando to Ft. Lauderdale, had amazing weather the entire time, and had a blast every single night. Despite the brevity of the ride, I have to admit that the emotional impact of the trip was equal to P2S. I added another twenty nine brothers and sisters to my already large bike and build family, and finally got to meet the Webber family. It was a moving event, to say the least, and I fully intend on continuing to do the ride year after year for as long as I can.
I got in a few shortish runs (four or five miles) during the ride. Admittedly, it was hard getting used to the humidity and heat after running in the winter; the fact that I had ridden about seventy miles on my bike earlier those days also probably had an effect. I don't think that I drank enough, and I didn't bring water with me on the runs. But they were all succesful with no bonking, although I did get lost while we were staying in Cocoa. My navigational skills have always been lacking. My runs got a bit curtailed by the end of the trip since, in true Mark fashion, I got sick. I'm still sort of getting over that infection, whatever it was. I consider myself lucky since one of the fellows on the ride, Travis, contracted bacterial pneumonia on the second day. He handle it a lot better than I would have, certainly.
So I left Florida very much in better spirits than I had entered into it. Bike touring, I'm convinced, is good for the soul; my soul, at least, loves it. Or perhaps it's just bike and build? Whatever the case, though I still had a fever and a cough, I came back to Virginia grinning and that grin really hasn't left my face since. I've ridden my feel good high into a new chapter in my life as well, because in only a few short months I will be GRADUATING! I've never been so excited and despite the state of the economy I'm not at all scared. I've got a new lease on life, because I'm doing another tour this summer!
Katharine had approached me some time ago about making a trip down the west coast. Specifically, she wanted to ride from British Columbia to Mexico. Sounds crazy? Nah, we're old pros at this point. It sort of developed from there, and she's written up a tentative itenerary from Victoria to San Fran, where the two of us will probably be stopping for a while to take a wilderness EMT training course in Yosemite. But there's a little not so secret secret about this tour. It's not just a "for fun" bike ride. Nope, get ready boys and girls because it's Big Reveal time. Drumroll... I probably will end up staying there when we're done! Yeah, I'm moving out of Virginia in a very big, and novel, way! It's gonna be awesome, and I'll be telling everyone about all the details as they emerge. So open up your knowledge baskets and get set!
I got in a few shortish runs (four or five miles) during the ride. Admittedly, it was hard getting used to the humidity and heat after running in the winter; the fact that I had ridden about seventy miles on my bike earlier those days also probably had an effect. I don't think that I drank enough, and I didn't bring water with me on the runs. But they were all succesful with no bonking, although I did get lost while we were staying in Cocoa. My navigational skills have always been lacking. My runs got a bit curtailed by the end of the trip since, in true Mark fashion, I got sick. I'm still sort of getting over that infection, whatever it was. I consider myself lucky since one of the fellows on the ride, Travis, contracted bacterial pneumonia on the second day. He handle it a lot better than I would have, certainly.
So I left Florida very much in better spirits than I had entered into it. Bike touring, I'm convinced, is good for the soul; my soul, at least, loves it. Or perhaps it's just bike and build? Whatever the case, though I still had a fever and a cough, I came back to Virginia grinning and that grin really hasn't left my face since. I've ridden my feel good high into a new chapter in my life as well, because in only a few short months I will be GRADUATING! I've never been so excited and despite the state of the economy I'm not at all scared. I've got a new lease on life, because I'm doing another tour this summer!
Katharine had approached me some time ago about making a trip down the west coast. Specifically, she wanted to ride from British Columbia to Mexico. Sounds crazy? Nah, we're old pros at this point. It sort of developed from there, and she's written up a tentative itenerary from Victoria to San Fran, where the two of us will probably be stopping for a while to take a wilderness EMT training course in Yosemite. But there's a little not so secret secret about this tour. It's not just a "for fun" bike ride. Nope, get ready boys and girls because it's Big Reveal time. Drumroll... I probably will end up staying there when we're done! Yeah, I'm moving out of Virginia in a very big, and novel, way! It's gonna be awesome, and I'll be telling everyone about all the details as they emerge. So open up your knowledge baskets and get set!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Ahhhh, Rejuvenation!
Sometimes it happens in the least likely of places. The dead of winter, for example. But we have been having freakishly mild weather as of late. A few things have happened that I am very, very excited about. But before I go on listing exactly what they are (don't worry, it's a short list), I'll do a little bit of pontificating about myself, and some peculiarities of mine.
I find my remedy for boredom, or just staleness in my life, has usually run to the physical. Around this time last year, it was discovering Bike and Build and starting this blog. A year has passed since I began that journey-phew, I really can't believe it- and a lot has changed. I have a new definition of myself, what I'm physically capable of. I have an intimate connection to seven or eight states that I've ridden through now, and a bond with a group of people that I don't think I'd be able to fully dissolve even if I tried. My soul is healthier, I think, for having seen so many sights and felt so many emotions. I treasure every mountain pass and every moment I can look back on a freak out (read: Shira screaming at Peter in Nebraska) and not stiffle the laugh. We suffered a lot and learned a lot and it was ecstasy, every moment of it. I have, and will always, enjoy reminiscing about it but it is time to look forward once again!
I've decided to tack another lofty goal onto the "things to do" list for the year. I plan on completing at least a half Ironman and possibly a full by the end of the 2009 calendar year. There's a half in Montauk that looks promising, and if I get my way I'll compete in the Wisconsin or Maryland Full Ironman. I've been playing with the idea of competing in one for a long time now, and I am just so excited to be taking my first steps again on another road. It keeps one focused for certain. For those of you who don't know much about the Ironman, it's considered by many to be the golden fleece of athletic achievement. I'd have to agree, when it comes to endurance anyway. By the numbers, a standard Ironman is a 2.4 mile open water swim, a 112 mile bike, and a marathon to be completed within 17 hours. Each leg is an achievement onto itself.
I come into this knowing full well the likelihood that I will not complete this race. It does not discourage me, and it is not an excuse to not try. I feel that, as Shira once told me, "the process is the goal". I think that, whether or not I achieve the concrete goal here, I'll discover things about myself and enact meaningful change within my own life. That is worth far more to me than nabbing that finisher's medal; nonetheless, I shall work hard, I am already working hard. If my personal experience and transformation doing this is anything like it was biking across country, I know I won't be disappointed whatever the outcome.
So then this blog, too, will be a part of achieving the goal. I'll be writing periodically about my training and my progress. The races I'm competing in this semester will all be a part of that training as well. I am freshly returned from a nine mile run, training for the Shamrock Half Marathon in March. I'll be doing plenty of running while it's still cold out. Probably more of that than either of the other two disciplines, although I also want to focus a lot on my swimming as well. So if any of you are still watching this blog, please continue! Bookmark it even. It's bound to be a bumpy ride along the way, and I'll try to capture all of those feelings here.
Goals keep us focused, I think give us a sense of purpose where there might not otherwise feel like there was. I am very much relieved to have decided upon a new one! Remember, a goal without a plan is just a wish! In the meantime, I hope everyone has an excellent holiday season. I'll be spending the tail end of mine with some Bike and Builders in the Florida sun. And I cannot wait.
Peace out, Hombres!
I find my remedy for boredom, or just staleness in my life, has usually run to the physical. Around this time last year, it was discovering Bike and Build and starting this blog. A year has passed since I began that journey-phew, I really can't believe it- and a lot has changed. I have a new definition of myself, what I'm physically capable of. I have an intimate connection to seven or eight states that I've ridden through now, and a bond with a group of people that I don't think I'd be able to fully dissolve even if I tried. My soul is healthier, I think, for having seen so many sights and felt so many emotions. I treasure every mountain pass and every moment I can look back on a freak out (read: Shira screaming at Peter in Nebraska) and not stiffle the laugh. We suffered a lot and learned a lot and it was ecstasy, every moment of it. I have, and will always, enjoy reminiscing about it but it is time to look forward once again!
I've decided to tack another lofty goal onto the "things to do" list for the year. I plan on completing at least a half Ironman and possibly a full by the end of the 2009 calendar year. There's a half in Montauk that looks promising, and if I get my way I'll compete in the Wisconsin or Maryland Full Ironman. I've been playing with the idea of competing in one for a long time now, and I am just so excited to be taking my first steps again on another road. It keeps one focused for certain. For those of you who don't know much about the Ironman, it's considered by many to be the golden fleece of athletic achievement. I'd have to agree, when it comes to endurance anyway. By the numbers, a standard Ironman is a 2.4 mile open water swim, a 112 mile bike, and a marathon to be completed within 17 hours. Each leg is an achievement onto itself.
I come into this knowing full well the likelihood that I will not complete this race. It does not discourage me, and it is not an excuse to not try. I feel that, as Shira once told me, "the process is the goal". I think that, whether or not I achieve the concrete goal here, I'll discover things about myself and enact meaningful change within my own life. That is worth far more to me than nabbing that finisher's medal; nonetheless, I shall work hard, I am already working hard. If my personal experience and transformation doing this is anything like it was biking across country, I know I won't be disappointed whatever the outcome.
So then this blog, too, will be a part of achieving the goal. I'll be writing periodically about my training and my progress. The races I'm competing in this semester will all be a part of that training as well. I am freshly returned from a nine mile run, training for the Shamrock Half Marathon in March. I'll be doing plenty of running while it's still cold out. Probably more of that than either of the other two disciplines, although I also want to focus a lot on my swimming as well. So if any of you are still watching this blog, please continue! Bookmark it even. It's bound to be a bumpy ride along the way, and I'll try to capture all of those feelings here.
Goals keep us focused, I think give us a sense of purpose where there might not otherwise feel like there was. I am very much relieved to have decided upon a new one! Remember, a goal without a plan is just a wish! In the meantime, I hope everyone has an excellent holiday season. I'll be spending the tail end of mine with some Bike and Builders in the Florida sun. And I cannot wait.
Peace out, Hombres!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Winter Sucks
I need to buy a trainer... ugh. Don't get me wrong, I really love the winter. Once you reach Thanksgiving, it's pretty much a clear shot to Christmas and New Years; all three are excellent holidays. But the weather just isn't fun for cycling, or exercise in general. Sure, there are plenty of people who are willing to wrap up in wool jersies and gloves and ride to their heart's content out in blustery winter gusts. But not me. I think it's safe to say, my days of regular exercise are over.
On the positive end, I'm finally updating this blog, right? There's a few little hiccups to mention since last post. For starters, I made it onto the Chris Webber Memorial Ride Roster (quite a mouthful, eh?)! I am super duper excited to get on that, especially because Jake and Marty are both doing the ride too. I've been racking my brain recently for inside jokes with which to relive my past experience and simaltaneously alienate everyone that's not Jake or Marty. A few that come to mind are Peter's pterodactyll cry and yelling "I'm not sweep!" while passing people, and something about food hoarding. Actually, a lot of these are about Peter. Heh heh...so yeah.
Moving on to other news, Barbara had some excellent bits of her own! She is now a leader for the Central US trip this summer; I'm wicked jealous, and intend on somehow hopping on for an hour or day or week. I'll also be pressuring some friends of mine who are contemplating doing a trip to sign up for CUS. There's only a few spots left on any of the trips, people! She's got a lot of work ahead of her, no doubt, and I'll marvel at her ability to complete her pre-trip responsibilities and hold a job, but hey, she's up to it.
Thanksgiving was a good one this year, on multiple fronts. It's pretty much my favorite holiday ever because we travel to Kentucky and stay at my aunt's very beautiful and very rustic home. And they're hippies who love extreme sports and physical activity and good beer. And my god the food. So, I ate a lot, and sat in front of the fire a lot, and watched my little second cousins be absolute terrors and wonder fondly if I was really that bad when I was their age. I'm sure I was worse, in fact. But as usual, it's always a lot of fun to see that part of the family, and watch it grow. And then there was the mountain biking and trail running on their property. Totally freaking awesome. And it gave me justification to stuff my face.
So yeah, I'm back at school now and putting off writing two papers, due tuesday and thursday respectively. It's gonna be a hairy week, but I think I can pull through. Until then, send me bike related presents or money! Because I need both!
On the positive end, I'm finally updating this blog, right? There's a few little hiccups to mention since last post. For starters, I made it onto the Chris Webber Memorial Ride Roster (quite a mouthful, eh?)! I am super duper excited to get on that, especially because Jake and Marty are both doing the ride too. I've been racking my brain recently for inside jokes with which to relive my past experience and simaltaneously alienate everyone that's not Jake or Marty. A few that come to mind are Peter's pterodactyll cry and yelling "I'm not sweep!" while passing people, and something about food hoarding. Actually, a lot of these are about Peter. Heh heh...so yeah.
Moving on to other news, Barbara had some excellent bits of her own! She is now a leader for the Central US trip this summer; I'm wicked jealous, and intend on somehow hopping on for an hour or day or week. I'll also be pressuring some friends of mine who are contemplating doing a trip to sign up for CUS. There's only a few spots left on any of the trips, people! She's got a lot of work ahead of her, no doubt, and I'll marvel at her ability to complete her pre-trip responsibilities and hold a job, but hey, she's up to it.
Thanksgiving was a good one this year, on multiple fronts. It's pretty much my favorite holiday ever because we travel to Kentucky and stay at my aunt's very beautiful and very rustic home. And they're hippies who love extreme sports and physical activity and good beer. And my god the food. So, I ate a lot, and sat in front of the fire a lot, and watched my little second cousins be absolute terrors and wonder fondly if I was really that bad when I was their age. I'm sure I was worse, in fact. But as usual, it's always a lot of fun to see that part of the family, and watch it grow. And then there was the mountain biking and trail running on their property. Totally freaking awesome. And it gave me justification to stuff my face.
So yeah, I'm back at school now and putting off writing two papers, due tuesday and thursday respectively. It's gonna be a hairy week, but I think I can pull through. Until then, send me bike related presents or money! Because I need both!
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