Pierce: (1) To cut or pass through with or as if with a sharp instrument; stab or penetrate. (2) To make a hole or opening in; perforate.
Do you ever feel like the universe is laughing up it's sleeve at you?
I was ready to bike commute today. Bike, Check. Stuff for Work, Check. Lunch, Check. I got everything put together including mega amounts of food. (Cause if you're a teacher, working on site before the students return, they don't feed you.) I drove to the park and ride lot. So far, everything is peachy keen.
Got the bike out, pumped up the tires, got the backpack I'm ready to go.
About a mile into the ride the back tire goes flat. (Note: Why is it always the back tire that goes flat when you are in a hurry?) Uh oh. Didn't give myself enough time for a flat on the way there. Ok. I will fix it and just ride back to the park and ride lot and then drive the rest of the way. Otherwise, I'll be late, which would be Very Very Bad.
I get the tire off, and there is a huge stick stuck through the tire. (Note: It wasn't THAT big, but man, when it's stuck through your tire and you cannot, damn it, get it OUT! it starts to assume the proportions of a small tree.) Took me forever to remove the stick from the tire. A few bike people happen by and ask if I need help, but no, I have everything I need, I just need a pair of industrial pliers to get this stupid piece of wood OUT of my tire.
In the meantime an Ancient Chinese Guru comes by and hangs around for a while just to offer "helpful" comments.
Ancient Chinese Guru: Confucius say - Skinny tires - bad, not sturdy! (Thumps gently on my front tire, which is just FINE thank you.)
Me: Look at him, and go back to absorbing task of removing stick from rear tire.
Ancient Chinese Guru: Confucius say - Get a fat tire bike. Strong, like ox.
Me: Nod while thinking - Would you kindly just go back to your fortune cookie, or wherever you came from, and leave me alone?
Ancient Chinese Guru: I have fat tire bike, never a problem!
Me: Oh.
Ancient Chinese Guru: Gives up on me and walks down the path.
Finally, finally, I have the tube on, the tire on, and the CO2 and I am ready to pump up the tire. Pump it up, get on, pedal twice, and the tire goes flat AGAIN! Why me? That's ALL I want to know. I'm ready to get off and walk back to my car, really fast, as I don't want to damage my rim, but coming back towards me, who do I see? That's right. Very Helpful Chinese Guru Guy. So. I pedal by him, as if I don't have a care in the world. As soon as I get around the corner, I get off and start hoofing it back to the car.
As I'm walking, Helpful Bike Guy comes along. Asks me if I need a tube, I say No, cause I'm almost there. Then in a display of brilliant obviousness tells me that my tire isn't on the rim. Duh. I know my tire is half off, that is because my tire is Flatter Than a Pancake. All right? Just go away.
Make it back to my car, after about a million years, put my bike in the car, put myself in the drivers seat, and stress out all the rest of the way to work about being late.
I arrive at 7:56 am, race to my room, change my clothes at the speed of light and arrive at the meeting at 7:59 am.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
Bike Commuting
Fiasco: A complete failure.
I WAS going to bike-commute today. I swear I was. First of all to save on gas, which is becoming a major expense. Pretty soon now they are going to start asking for blood along with the money. "That'll be an ounce of blood per gallon please." Besides the fact that I am a cheapskate and do not feel like supporting the oil refineries, the second and more noble motive is to keep me in shape.
The universe conspired against me today though.
I got all my stuff ready last night and set the alarm, which faithfully went off at oh-dark-30. After I remembered, that yes, I HAD done that on purpose, I got up, got into my Cool Bike Clothing (T-shirt and shorts) and prepared to take off.
Then, I got out the information sheet just to make sure that everything was as it should be. As I started reading, it looked like Greek. Oh, that's because it's upside down. Ok, ummm.... it still looks like Greek.
Should start at 8:30 - why does this say 7:30?
Should be at Very Convenient to Bike Path Location - why does this say it's Not There, You Fool. It's Way to Hell and Gone Out There.
Read it again just to make sure, and again. What happened here? My theory is someone came in and switched it on me, out of pure maliciousness. Things like this happen to me all the time.
Luckily, I had arisen Very Early. So, I did the Superman clothing trick, where you walk into a phone booth and walk out 10 seconds later as a completely different person. In my case, I transformed from Bike Goddess to Serious Educator, and then walked out the door. Only an hour in my car later, I arrived, 5 minutes early, at 7:25.
I was really thinking that I could bike-commute tomorrow, but no, because we have to appear at Ridiculous Location for the morning, and then at lunch (i.e. commute while eating) we have to go to our school site for the afternoon session.
However, I WILL Bike Commute sometime this week. No Matter What.
I WAS going to bike-commute today. I swear I was. First of all to save on gas, which is becoming a major expense. Pretty soon now they are going to start asking for blood along with the money. "That'll be an ounce of blood per gallon please." Besides the fact that I am a cheapskate and do not feel like supporting the oil refineries, the second and more noble motive is to keep me in shape.
The universe conspired against me today though.
I got all my stuff ready last night and set the alarm, which faithfully went off at oh-dark-30. After I remembered, that yes, I HAD done that on purpose, I got up, got into my Cool Bike Clothing (T-shirt and shorts) and prepared to take off.
Then, I got out the information sheet just to make sure that everything was as it should be. As I started reading, it looked like Greek. Oh, that's because it's upside down. Ok, ummm.... it still looks like Greek.
Should start at 8:30 - why does this say 7:30?
Should be at Very Convenient to Bike Path Location - why does this say it's Not There, You Fool. It's Way to Hell and Gone Out There.
Read it again just to make sure, and again. What happened here? My theory is someone came in and switched it on me, out of pure maliciousness. Things like this happen to me all the time.
Luckily, I had arisen Very Early. So, I did the Superman clothing trick, where you walk into a phone booth and walk out 10 seconds later as a completely different person. In my case, I transformed from Bike Goddess to Serious Educator, and then walked out the door. Only an hour in my car later, I arrived, 5 minutes early, at 7:25.
I was really thinking that I could bike-commute tomorrow, but no, because we have to appear at Ridiculous Location for the morning, and then at lunch (i.e. commute while eating) we have to go to our school site for the afternoon session.
However, I WILL Bike Commute sometime this week. No Matter What.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Skinny Feet
Lean: Not fleshy or fat; thin.
I have skinny feet again. Like the first sign of spring, my ankles and feet are the first part of me that are showing signs of athleticism.
I remember last year, at this same time, I felt like my feet had betrayed me. They were fat, and they were old. You know what I mean. Those feet and ankles that have to be squished into shoes and that you look at and hope, really hope, that your feet never end up looking that way.
Well, mine did look that way. But, I've come to realize that my feet did not betray me, rather, I betrayed them. I did not eat right, I did not exercise, I did not drink enough water. How could I expect my feet to stay skinny?
Well, now that I've been doing all that stuff, my feet are back with the program. They love me, and I love them. No more puffy ankles. No more lines from my shoes.
So, I must keep working out, if only to keep my skinny feet.
I have skinny feet again. Like the first sign of spring, my ankles and feet are the first part of me that are showing signs of athleticism.
I remember last year, at this same time, I felt like my feet had betrayed me. They were fat, and they were old. You know what I mean. Those feet and ankles that have to be squished into shoes and that you look at and hope, really hope, that your feet never end up looking that way.
Well, mine did look that way. But, I've come to realize that my feet did not betray me, rather, I betrayed them. I did not eat right, I did not exercise, I did not drink enough water. How could I expect my feet to stay skinny?
Well, now that I've been doing all that stuff, my feet are back with the program. They love me, and I love them. No more puffy ankles. No more lines from my shoes.
So, I must keep working out, if only to keep my skinny feet.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Swimming
I love swimming. I love the feeling of weightlessness that the water brings me. I don't feel fat, or heavy, or anything else. Swimming doesn't have weight limitations like other sports do.
Try running. If you're overweight, it's going to slow you down dramatically. Same with biking. Downhills are nice, but those uphills, those are killer if you're dragging extra poundage around with you.
But swimming doesn't feel that way - it's just me and the water, and I can forget about the fact that I'm fat for a while. Until I get out. Then I have to return to earth and reassume my heavy form, and feel gravity dragging me down.
___________________
Today, we did a fast set. Swimming fast is so much different than gliding through the water. The water becomes your enemy, something to be tamed.
5 100's. 50 kick, 50 swim on 3 minute intervals.
All of us kick off together. Kicking as hard as we can, breathing hard too. Get to the end, turn, damn board is in the way, and kick back, hanging on for dear life. Throw the board up on the side and go, go, go. Swimming as fast as you can, even faster if you can make it. It's only 50 but you feel like you're going to die.
2:08
Rest - heart beating, breath pounding in and out. Maybe I'll stop here. Maybe I'll just rest. I'm going again. Not thinking about it, just kicking, kicking, kicking. Turn, trying to make it faster this time. kick back, faster, faster. Toss the board and start to swim. My legs are dead. They feel like they're not going to move again for the next million years. That's ok - hit the wall, flip turn, gasp for breath as my head breaks the water. Swim back, turning over my arms as fast as possible, breathing in with every stroke.
2:10
Damn- I was slower that time. Lie back on the water, let it cradle me into it's embrace as every fiber tries to reset itself from this insult I've pushed upon it. Get ready to go - 3rd one, we're in the middle now. Kick again. Fast, fast. I feel the tiredness creeping up my legs, but I ignore it and only think about kicking faster, faster. Hit the wall, throw the board, hear the coach yelling "Go, go!" and I go. Swimming like a shark is after me. Flip turn at the wall, I know I'm going to die from oxygen deprivation from the flip turn, and head back. Realize that I just barely have to turn my head to the side to breathe because of the wake my head is creating in the water. Think about this for a second, as I swim as fast as I can into the wall as the coach is calling out times.
2:07
2:07? 2 seconds faster than the first one, and I feel like I've won some kind of record, as I pant, and pant, trying to regain my breath. Only 2 to go. Kicking again, and my legs are really tired now, but I ignore them and kick as hard and fast as I can. I'm going to keep the same time. I feel like I'm going faster, just a bit. Hit the wall - toss the board and swim. My legs really are dead this time, but my arms are strong. I see the water splashing all around me, this isn't any smooth glide I'm doing here but I've got turnover. Try to bounce off the far end as fast as I can, just because I need to BREATHE! Come up with a huge gasp while my arms continue to churn like windmills and I make my legs help out.
2:09
I don't even care what the time was. I just want to rest. Float on my back hearing my heart beat pounding in my ears. 1 more. Only one. I can do it, it's only one more. At least this is what I tell myself as I line up once again on the wall. And we're off, and I'm not even thinking now, I'm just kicking for all I'm worth. My legs don't like this, but I tell them to shut up, cause they're going to do it whether they like it or not. Hit the wall, toss the board, and go. Trying to get the turnaround faster, faster. I'm breathing like a bellows now, and I can feel the tiredness in my shoulders, my back, my arms. But it's only 50. I can do it for 50. I flip at the wall, dragging in a huge breath as I surface, and head back. All I know is that I'm almost done. I'm trying to finish strong but my tired arms and legs are holding me back. Finally I'm there, and as I grab for the wall the coach says
2:08
Now I can feel the muscle tiredness through my whole body, but I turn and do some more laps, I know I need to work this out so that I feel good tomorrow.
As I get out of the pool, the coach says "Good job, you were really pushing there."
Effort forgotten, I float off.
Try running. If you're overweight, it's going to slow you down dramatically. Same with biking. Downhills are nice, but those uphills, those are killer if you're dragging extra poundage around with you.
But swimming doesn't feel that way - it's just me and the water, and I can forget about the fact that I'm fat for a while. Until I get out. Then I have to return to earth and reassume my heavy form, and feel gravity dragging me down.
___________________
Today, we did a fast set. Swimming fast is so much different than gliding through the water. The water becomes your enemy, something to be tamed.
5 100's. 50 kick, 50 swim on 3 minute intervals.
All of us kick off together. Kicking as hard as we can, breathing hard too. Get to the end, turn, damn board is in the way, and kick back, hanging on for dear life. Throw the board up on the side and go, go, go. Swimming as fast as you can, even faster if you can make it. It's only 50 but you feel like you're going to die.
2:08
Rest - heart beating, breath pounding in and out. Maybe I'll stop here. Maybe I'll just rest. I'm going again. Not thinking about it, just kicking, kicking, kicking. Turn, trying to make it faster this time. kick back, faster, faster. Toss the board and start to swim. My legs are dead. They feel like they're not going to move again for the next million years. That's ok - hit the wall, flip turn, gasp for breath as my head breaks the water. Swim back, turning over my arms as fast as possible, breathing in with every stroke.
2:10
Damn- I was slower that time. Lie back on the water, let it cradle me into it's embrace as every fiber tries to reset itself from this insult I've pushed upon it. Get ready to go - 3rd one, we're in the middle now. Kick again. Fast, fast. I feel the tiredness creeping up my legs, but I ignore it and only think about kicking faster, faster. Hit the wall, throw the board, hear the coach yelling "Go, go!" and I go. Swimming like a shark is after me. Flip turn at the wall, I know I'm going to die from oxygen deprivation from the flip turn, and head back. Realize that I just barely have to turn my head to the side to breathe because of the wake my head is creating in the water. Think about this for a second, as I swim as fast as I can into the wall as the coach is calling out times.
2:07
2:07? 2 seconds faster than the first one, and I feel like I've won some kind of record, as I pant, and pant, trying to regain my breath. Only 2 to go. Kicking again, and my legs are really tired now, but I ignore them and kick as hard and fast as I can. I'm going to keep the same time. I feel like I'm going faster, just a bit. Hit the wall - toss the board and swim. My legs really are dead this time, but my arms are strong. I see the water splashing all around me, this isn't any smooth glide I'm doing here but I've got turnover. Try to bounce off the far end as fast as I can, just because I need to BREATHE! Come up with a huge gasp while my arms continue to churn like windmills and I make my legs help out.
2:09
I don't even care what the time was. I just want to rest. Float on my back hearing my heart beat pounding in my ears. 1 more. Only one. I can do it, it's only one more. At least this is what I tell myself as I line up once again on the wall. And we're off, and I'm not even thinking now, I'm just kicking for all I'm worth. My legs don't like this, but I tell them to shut up, cause they're going to do it whether they like it or not. Hit the wall, toss the board, and go. Trying to get the turnaround faster, faster. I'm breathing like a bellows now, and I can feel the tiredness in my shoulders, my back, my arms. But it's only 50. I can do it for 50. I flip at the wall, dragging in a huge breath as I surface, and head back. All I know is that I'm almost done. I'm trying to finish strong but my tired arms and legs are holding me back. Finally I'm there, and as I grab for the wall the coach says
2:08
Now I can feel the muscle tiredness through my whole body, but I turn and do some more laps, I know I need to work this out so that I feel good tomorrow.
As I get out of the pool, the coach says "Good job, you were really pushing there."
Effort forgotten, I float off.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
What makes a runner?
I just finished a book called To The Edge by Kirk Johnson. This book is about a man who becomes a runner and decides to complete one of the toughest ultramarathons out there, Badwater.
Badwater is held in Death Valley. In July. It starts at about 7:00 AM and you run from Badwater (the lowest point in the US) to Mt. Whitney (the highest point in the US.) In July. The race starts in the daytime, so that you get to experience the heat of Death Valley at the hottest part of the year and the race is 135 miles, yes, I said miles, long. It's one of the toughest extreme sports races in the world.
This book was very interesting and I recommend it strongly if you want to understand what makes endurance sports tick. Any endurance sport. As the author says, it's just about refusing to quit and so you go on.
But another point that interested me was how much of this ultramarathon the competitors did not actually RUN but WALKED. They walked when it got to hot to run, or if their feet hurt to much, or if the road was to steep. Yeah, they ran part of it, but not all of it. The average mile time you must hit in order to complete this race in the time cutoff is around 26 minutes. This is ultra slow (maybe that's why they call it an ultramarathon.)
Think about that for a minute. A really good mile time is under 4 minutes. If we're talking about a marathon, 26.2 miles, a world class time would be under 2:10, or almost 5 minutes a mile. At Badwater, the record is about 24 hours 36 minutes, or about a 11 minute per mile pace.
So, the question is, what makes someone a runner? It's not that they run the whole darn way. Cause some of them don't. And, it's not that they are necessarily faster than other runners, cause we have fast runners and slow runners. And, it's not a certain distance, because whether you're busting your guts running a mile, or doing a 100 mile run, we still call both of those people runners.
So, my opinion is that a runner is someone who thinks that they are. In other words, if you ask a runner what they did, they'll say that they ran x amount of distance. Not that they walked it, not that they jogged it. That they RAN.
That self-declaration is what makes someone a runner. Or not.
Badwater is held in Death Valley. In July. It starts at about 7:00 AM and you run from Badwater (the lowest point in the US) to Mt. Whitney (the highest point in the US.) In July. The race starts in the daytime, so that you get to experience the heat of Death Valley at the hottest part of the year and the race is 135 miles, yes, I said miles, long. It's one of the toughest extreme sports races in the world.
This book was very interesting and I recommend it strongly if you want to understand what makes endurance sports tick. Any endurance sport. As the author says, it's just about refusing to quit and so you go on.
But another point that interested me was how much of this ultramarathon the competitors did not actually RUN but WALKED. They walked when it got to hot to run, or if their feet hurt to much, or if the road was to steep. Yeah, they ran part of it, but not all of it. The average mile time you must hit in order to complete this race in the time cutoff is around 26 minutes. This is ultra slow (maybe that's why they call it an ultramarathon.)
Think about that for a minute. A really good mile time is under 4 minutes. If we're talking about a marathon, 26.2 miles, a world class time would be under 2:10, or almost 5 minutes a mile. At Badwater, the record is about 24 hours 36 minutes, or about a 11 minute per mile pace.
So, the question is, what makes someone a runner? It's not that they run the whole darn way. Cause some of them don't. And, it's not that they are necessarily faster than other runners, cause we have fast runners and slow runners. And, it's not a certain distance, because whether you're busting your guts running a mile, or doing a 100 mile run, we still call both of those people runners.
So, my opinion is that a runner is someone who thinks that they are. In other words, if you ask a runner what they did, they'll say that they ran x amount of distance. Not that they walked it, not that they jogged it. That they RAN.
That self-declaration is what makes someone a runner. Or not.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Relationships
I've had a few of these. Some good, some not so good. I try to look at all of them as learning experiences. What would I do again? What would I avoid like the plague?
I guess I'm thinking about this right now, because I finally feel ready to jump back into the sea of "single and looking."
I really haven't dated at all for over a year. Some of that was very bad personal stuff going on that threw me for a loop. The rest was the fact that a relationship, which meant a lot to me, ended. Or, I accepted that it was over.
The problem was that this guy was, I thought, The Guy. You know. The One. The Only One. In some ways, I felt like he was a reward for all of the weird crap that I'd gone through while dating. Finally, I'd found someone that was not only normal but who I could actually see being in my life for the very long term. Someone who I would actually share closet space with. Someone who would listen to me if I needed to talk. Someone who I could see growing old with, and telling stories about "Do you remember when..."
Have you ever been with someone who you can say anything at all to, and they will never say, "What do you mean?" The thing is, I could say the most elliptical statement and he would pick up on it. And I could do the same for him. This was not just a one-sided affair.
I totally fell for him. Head over heels into love. Not "If I'm not with you I'll die" obsessiveness, but "Wow, you're great and I'd really like to spend the rest of my life with you." The more time I spent with him, the more time I wanted to spend with him. Something as simple as going to the grocery store became a better experience because he was with me.
Then it ended.
The problem was that these feelings I had for him, did not just disappear. They were still there and as strong as ever. The problem was that the dates I tried to go on, I would compare the date guy to my old flame guy and date guy just couldn't cut it. Not because date guy was so bad, but for the reason that he wasn't my old flame.
I talked to my old flame the other day and I realized, with something close to relief, that while I will always care for him and wish him well, I am no longer "in love." I have some distance. Finally.
He sure was a great guy though. My hope is that if I could find him, that there's got to be someone else out there. Someone else who could be The One for me, and I can be The One for him.
I guess I'm thinking about this right now, because I finally feel ready to jump back into the sea of "single and looking."
I really haven't dated at all for over a year. Some of that was very bad personal stuff going on that threw me for a loop. The rest was the fact that a relationship, which meant a lot to me, ended. Or, I accepted that it was over.
The problem was that this guy was, I thought, The Guy. You know. The One. The Only One. In some ways, I felt like he was a reward for all of the weird crap that I'd gone through while dating. Finally, I'd found someone that was not only normal but who I could actually see being in my life for the very long term. Someone who I would actually share closet space with. Someone who would listen to me if I needed to talk. Someone who I could see growing old with, and telling stories about "Do you remember when..."
Have you ever been with someone who you can say anything at all to, and they will never say, "What do you mean?" The thing is, I could say the most elliptical statement and he would pick up on it. And I could do the same for him. This was not just a one-sided affair.
I totally fell for him. Head over heels into love. Not "If I'm not with you I'll die" obsessiveness, but "Wow, you're great and I'd really like to spend the rest of my life with you." The more time I spent with him, the more time I wanted to spend with him. Something as simple as going to the grocery store became a better experience because he was with me.
Then it ended.
The problem was that these feelings I had for him, did not just disappear. They were still there and as strong as ever. The problem was that the dates I tried to go on, I would compare the date guy to my old flame guy and date guy just couldn't cut it. Not because date guy was so bad, but for the reason that he wasn't my old flame.
I talked to my old flame the other day and I realized, with something close to relief, that while I will always care for him and wish him well, I am no longer "in love." I have some distance. Finally.
He sure was a great guy though. My hope is that if I could find him, that there's got to be someone else out there. Someone else who could be The One for me, and I can be The One for him.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Riding a Bike
There's something about riding a bike. You are immediately more aware of your surroundings than you are in a car. You notice things. You hear things.
The breathtaking beauty of a lake and the contrast between the trees, the water, and the sky.
The velvet brown look of the hills dotted with dark green trees.
The small sound of running water as you ride alongside a mountain stream.
The rush of the wind and the beat of your heart as you race down a hill.
A perfect group of tall flowers standing proudly by the roadside.
The taste, smell and texture of the food you eat.
On a bike, you soak these things in. You fully experience them in a way that you never will when you are riding, insulated from the world, in a car.
The breathtaking beauty of a lake and the contrast between the trees, the water, and the sky.
The velvet brown look of the hills dotted with dark green trees.
The small sound of running water as you ride alongside a mountain stream.
The rush of the wind and the beat of your heart as you race down a hill.
A perfect group of tall flowers standing proudly by the roadside.
The taste, smell and texture of the food you eat.
On a bike, you soak these things in. You fully experience them in a way that you never will when you are riding, insulated from the world, in a car.
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