Well after eight years of Republicans in the White House, we now have a Democrat at the wheel again. The pendulum always swings and that is why we have a two party system. People get upset with one, and they vote for the other one. Yes, I know we have more than one party in America, but lets face it, we would rather vote for a Hispanic woman in a wheelchair as our president before anyone from the Libertarian party. So Barrak Obama is our guy...love him or not, he's the man who will be leading us for the next four years.
And four years is all. It didn't matter who was elected this time, it would only be a one term affair given the current economic and political situation. If he manages to be elected in 2012, I will be shocked and awed that I actually made an incorrect prediction. (Authors note. I'm wrong a lot)
We are starting a pool. When will we start hearing from the media "Barack Obama, President of the United States" rather than "Barack Obama, the United States first African-American President"? My guess is July 2009.
The choice of Hillary Clinton as his Secretary of State. OK, I'm not sure how I feel about this one. But because the professional comedians haven't picked up on it, I will. After the nasty election campaign these two ran against each other, I think this was a very savvy move. First of all, it give him the appearance of letting bygones be bygones, taking the higher ground, party solidarity and all that. While at the same time, he gets call Hillary his Secretary and say things like "This is the closest you'll get to the Oval Office Baby!!" She is without question the most polarizing personality in America right now. People have very strong opinions about her one way or the other. I'm not sure what other countries feel about her, but we will see in the next four years. ALSO, this move is very VERY strategic. By placing her as secretary of State, she is now out of the presidential running in 2012. She could never run against the incumbent and current employer could she? So for this I applaud Mr. Obama. (Authors note: Hillary has never done anything to inspire my confidence as the leader of this country.)
In that same vein, I have nothing against a woman in the White House driving the ship. If the right woman comes up at the right time, and the party tides are right, I believe that her gender will not keep her out of the White House. And I'm sure she would do a fine job running the country. Hillary has wanted that job ever since we Americans learned her name when the Arkansas Governor was thinking of tossing his hat in the ring. Maybe one day she'll get the job. But my guess is that if she's running for president on the Democratic ticket, she'll be facing off against Condoleezza Rice in the red corner. THAT would bring out the voters.
So...when do you think we'll hear of Hillary short sheeting the Obama's bed? Do they play practical jokes in the White House?
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Please let me explain...
I offer a humble apology to all my loyal readers (this equates to my family, a delightful young lass named Leslie, and a strange little man named El Guapo from Erie, PA)
If you've been following, you have noticed that I have not posted an entry in a while, and the last few that I did post were while we were vacationing in Chicago from the magical Blackberry device. I have updated the pictures of the man-child, but have not written anything. So...let me offer a short (for me anyway) reasoning.
First of all, this is November. And everyone knows that November is National Novel Writing Month...or NaNoWriMo for short. www.nanowrimo.org And during November, I write a novel. It occupies most of my free time and a large chunk of my scheduled time (again, thank you magical Blackberry) The goal is to write 50,000 words in just 30 days. WOW! You might say. Well, if you ever read my 50,000 words, you would probably be under impressed. They aren't necessarily the best words, but they are words and my stories almost always make sense. I've done it the past three years and completed the task each time. At this date and hour, I am at over 38,000 words for this years undertaking; a non-fiction work about health and fitness based upon what I have learned and experienced in the past 18 months. While I am no authority, I have lost nearly 60 pounds and changed my eating habits. My journey might be inspiring to you, so maybe we can make it available somehow when it is finished.
Secondly, I am trying to finish my final class for my Christian Counseling degree. That has not taken too much time, because of my last paragraph, however, I know I need to get on the stick and make it happen.
Thirdly, we were without Internet connection for 9 days. This might not seem like a lot to you, but having been wired to the Interweb constantly for the last 15 years without interruption, this was a major setback not to mention shock to my system. It will also be the topic of a posting in the near future. As will my consideration of running for president in 2012 on the platform of declassifying all information about UFOs and the JFK assassination. It started, and no doubt will also end, as a joke.
And if I may interject a bit of seriousness, I would like to make a public call to prayer for the leaders of our country. Regardless of how you feel about either the president we have or the president we have just elected, we are told in the Bible to pray for those placed in positions of authority. So as one era comes to a close and another awaits keep both of these men in prayer that they may guide this country with inspired wisdom. If you aren't into that sort of thing, just send them warm fuzzy thoughts. I think God can hear that kind of thing too.
So, I'll leave you for now, and will post new pictures as well as more ramblings soon.
If you've been following, you have noticed that I have not posted an entry in a while, and the last few that I did post were while we were vacationing in Chicago from the magical Blackberry device. I have updated the pictures of the man-child, but have not written anything. So...let me offer a short (for me anyway) reasoning.
First of all, this is November. And everyone knows that November is National Novel Writing Month...or NaNoWriMo for short. www.nanowrimo.org And during November, I write a novel. It occupies most of my free time and a large chunk of my scheduled time (again, thank you magical Blackberry) The goal is to write 50,000 words in just 30 days. WOW! You might say. Well, if you ever read my 50,000 words, you would probably be under impressed. They aren't necessarily the best words, but they are words and my stories almost always make sense. I've done it the past three years and completed the task each time. At this date and hour, I am at over 38,000 words for this years undertaking; a non-fiction work about health and fitness based upon what I have learned and experienced in the past 18 months. While I am no authority, I have lost nearly 60 pounds and changed my eating habits. My journey might be inspiring to you, so maybe we can make it available somehow when it is finished.
Secondly, I am trying to finish my final class for my Christian Counseling degree. That has not taken too much time, because of my last paragraph, however, I know I need to get on the stick and make it happen.
Thirdly, we were without Internet connection for 9 days. This might not seem like a lot to you, but having been wired to the Interweb constantly for the last 15 years without interruption, this was a major setback not to mention shock to my system. It will also be the topic of a posting in the near future. As will my consideration of running for president in 2012 on the platform of declassifying all information about UFOs and the JFK assassination. It started, and no doubt will also end, as a joke.
And if I may interject a bit of seriousness, I would like to make a public call to prayer for the leaders of our country. Regardless of how you feel about either the president we have or the president we have just elected, we are told in the Bible to pray for those placed in positions of authority. So as one era comes to a close and another awaits keep both of these men in prayer that they may guide this country with inspired wisdom. If you aren't into that sort of thing, just send them warm fuzzy thoughts. I think God can hear that kind of thing too.
So, I'll leave you for now, and will post new pictures as well as more ramblings soon.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Value of time
What is time worth? It's easy to find out; just ask.
Value of a year: ask a student that failed final exam
Value of a month: ask a mother who gave birth to a premature baby
Value of a week: ask an editor of a weekly newspaper
Value of a day: ask a migrant worker that receives his pay everyday
Value of an hour: schedule a visit with your lawyer
Value of a minute: ask someone that just missed a bus
Value of a second: ask someone that was just in an accident
Value of a millisecond: ask someone that just won the silver medal
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Random thoughts
When the sun rises on the African plain, the antelope wake up and know they must run faster than the fastest lion or they will be killed.
Meanwhile, on another side of the plain, the lion wakes up knowing that it must run faster than the slowest antelope or the entire pride will starve.
The moral of the story: It doesn't matter where you live, or what you are, but when the sun comes up, you'd better be running!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Olympic Hangover
It's a little hard to believe that it has actually been three weeks since the close of the 2008 games. Just in time for the next three ring circus, the Presidential campaigning. But nearly a month after they've closed, we are just now starting to return to our lives as normal. Much of the news and controversies have dissipated, and everyone has gone back to their lives again, including the athletes. As with anything...I have a few thoughts to improve, or modernize the games. And if I ever become the commander of the world Olympic committee, I will push for these changes. How does that guy get his job anyway?
First of all, Michael Phelps. Six foot, four inches of muscle with hands the size of dinner plates, feet the size of scuba flippers, a long torso and relatively short legs. Oh yeah, and he's double jointed too. If he were any more perfectly designed as a swimmer, he'd have a blowhole on the top of his head. And while I don't know that I'd give him the title of greatest athlete of all time, I do admire what he's done for swimming and applaud his many many gold medals and world records.
While on the topic of world records, what was the deal with all the records being set and then not just broken, but obliterated the very next round? Did anyone measure that pool to make sure it was really the correct length? Either the athletes were stronger and faster this year, or the Chinese used some extra fast water to fill the pool.
Boxing, Judo, Tae Quan Do, Wrestling...I'm a guy, I like these things. You know what else I like? Combining them into one sport and call it Olympic Mixed Martial Arts. This would cut down on the number of events so we can actually see the events we want (more on that later) and bring the games into a new era. It can be argued that an MMA tournament would take longer than two weeks because the body cannot endure the physical drain of match after match. I didn't say it was a perfect plan, but one I'll continue to work on until I become Olympic Games Czar.
I know the Olympics will bring in new events from time to time, mostly at the request of the host country. I have an idea for a new team event and the next time it is on US soil, I say we ask for it. PAINTBALL!!!! Yes, I really did say that. Now tell me how cool that would be. The games were set up as a peaceful demonstration of athletic and fighting skills. How about paintball, there are tactics, strategies, easily created venues in either open air stadiums or in a field or wooded area. I think it's a great idea, but the first year, we'll probably hear about doping allegations.
Now, lets use our heads a little bit. Feel free to chime in on this one if you'd like because I know it is a touchy subject. I say we get rid of indoor 6 person team volleyball. Why? Because we already have beach volleyball and they wear swim suits! There is something for everyone to enjoy, be it Phil Dalhausser or Kerri Walsh. Great athletes, very talented and they look good. Hey, that's an idea, make it part fashion show too. Heaven's knows we need more drama mixed with our sports. And there just aren't enough judges involved. I'm also in favor of getting rid of international basketball and replacing it with inner city street ball. I'm tired of seeing professionals from all over the world, many of them in the NBA anyway, playing for their home countries. Lets reign it back in with something a little more accessible. Make the tryouts open to anyone, play shirts and skins with chains for nets and no referees. Now THAT would be a game to watch!
Never will I dream of denying the beauty and strength associated with gymnastics. They are all great athletes and deserve to be honored and to have an arena in which to compete. However, I do not, do NOT, DO NOT like any event that relies upon a judge for it's ranking. The NBC commentators said it themselves. The judges come from countries that are not competing in the event. This means the quality of judge is not of the same caliber as one from, say China, that is used to seeing elite gymnasts and knows how to properly score them. Why don't I like judges? The performance is up to the whim of a person, who lets face it, can be bribed. The first contestant judged will ALWAYS be at a disadvantage. Just because Shaun Johnson is quite muscular for her size and more powerful than her fellow competitors, why is it she can do a near perfect routine, but still get a low score? Because the judge doesn't think she looks graceful enough. And the king of them all, the judging requirements can change from season to season. For example, we can't do a perfect routine anymore? In fact, just ask Alicia Sacramone how perfect a vault needs to be. Apparently if you land on your knees, you win a medal, but if you land on your feet it's a deduction.
Yes, before you ask, I feel the same about diving, synchronized swimming, and any other event that doesn't have a score, time or distance associated with it. The Olympic motto has always been faster, higher, stronger. I don't see pretty in there at all. Don't get me wrong, they are all very strong talented people. Seeing a male gymnast on the rings is about the most awe inspiring thing there is. But I'm not sure I can honestly call what they do a sport if it needs someone other than the game itself to tell them how they did. Maybe make them exhibition events, or just call the World Championship good enough.
Which brings me to my promised point. Fewer events would be good. I only got to see twelve minutes of table tennis, no badminton, no triathlon, limited road cycling, no shooting, no archery, but you better believe we saw more synchronized diving than I need to see for a lifetime. It was on nearly every day. And it's cool to watch...for about three dives. Maybe the answer is that we actually have every broadcast company out there and everyone cover different sports, like they did back in 1988. Then we could get to see just about any event we wanted.
I can't wait for 2012 to see how many of my suggestions get implemented. But until that time, I guess I have to see who can dig the most dirt, and sling the most mud; McCain, or Obama.
First of all, Michael Phelps. Six foot, four inches of muscle with hands the size of dinner plates, feet the size of scuba flippers, a long torso and relatively short legs. Oh yeah, and he's double jointed too. If he were any more perfectly designed as a swimmer, he'd have a blowhole on the top of his head. And while I don't know that I'd give him the title of greatest athlete of all time, I do admire what he's done for swimming and applaud his many many gold medals and world records.
While on the topic of world records, what was the deal with all the records being set and then not just broken, but obliterated the very next round? Did anyone measure that pool to make sure it was really the correct length? Either the athletes were stronger and faster this year, or the Chinese used some extra fast water to fill the pool.
Boxing, Judo, Tae Quan Do, Wrestling...I'm a guy, I like these things. You know what else I like? Combining them into one sport and call it Olympic Mixed Martial Arts. This would cut down on the number of events so we can actually see the events we want (more on that later) and bring the games into a new era. It can be argued that an MMA tournament would take longer than two weeks because the body cannot endure the physical drain of match after match. I didn't say it was a perfect plan, but one I'll continue to work on until I become Olympic Games Czar.
I know the Olympics will bring in new events from time to time, mostly at the request of the host country. I have an idea for a new team event and the next time it is on US soil, I say we ask for it. PAINTBALL!!!! Yes, I really did say that. Now tell me how cool that would be. The games were set up as a peaceful demonstration of athletic and fighting skills. How about paintball, there are tactics, strategies, easily created venues in either open air stadiums or in a field or wooded area. I think it's a great idea, but the first year, we'll probably hear about doping allegations.
Now, lets use our heads a little bit. Feel free to chime in on this one if you'd like because I know it is a touchy subject. I say we get rid of indoor 6 person team volleyball. Why? Because we already have beach volleyball and they wear swim suits! There is something for everyone to enjoy, be it Phil Dalhausser or Kerri Walsh. Great athletes, very talented and they look good. Hey, that's an idea, make it part fashion show too. Heaven's knows we need more drama mixed with our sports. And there just aren't enough judges involved. I'm also in favor of getting rid of international basketball and replacing it with inner city street ball. I'm tired of seeing professionals from all over the world, many of them in the NBA anyway, playing for their home countries. Lets reign it back in with something a little more accessible. Make the tryouts open to anyone, play shirts and skins with chains for nets and no referees. Now THAT would be a game to watch!
Never will I dream of denying the beauty and strength associated with gymnastics. They are all great athletes and deserve to be honored and to have an arena in which to compete. However, I do not, do NOT, DO NOT like any event that relies upon a judge for it's ranking. The NBC commentators said it themselves. The judges come from countries that are not competing in the event. This means the quality of judge is not of the same caliber as one from, say China, that is used to seeing elite gymnasts and knows how to properly score them. Why don't I like judges? The performance is up to the whim of a person, who lets face it, can be bribed. The first contestant judged will ALWAYS be at a disadvantage. Just because Shaun Johnson is quite muscular for her size and more powerful than her fellow competitors, why is it she can do a near perfect routine, but still get a low score? Because the judge doesn't think she looks graceful enough. And the king of them all, the judging requirements can change from season to season. For example, we can't do a perfect routine anymore? In fact, just ask Alicia Sacramone how perfect a vault needs to be. Apparently if you land on your knees, you win a medal, but if you land on your feet it's a deduction.
Yes, before you ask, I feel the same about diving, synchronized swimming, and any other event that doesn't have a score, time or distance associated with it. The Olympic motto has always been faster, higher, stronger. I don't see pretty in there at all. Don't get me wrong, they are all very strong talented people. Seeing a male gymnast on the rings is about the most awe inspiring thing there is. But I'm not sure I can honestly call what they do a sport if it needs someone other than the game itself to tell them how they did. Maybe make them exhibition events, or just call the World Championship good enough.
Which brings me to my promised point. Fewer events would be good. I only got to see twelve minutes of table tennis, no badminton, no triathlon, limited road cycling, no shooting, no archery, but you better believe we saw more synchronized diving than I need to see for a lifetime. It was on nearly every day. And it's cool to watch...for about three dives. Maybe the answer is that we actually have every broadcast company out there and everyone cover different sports, like they did back in 1988. Then we could get to see just about any event we wanted.
I can't wait for 2012 to see how many of my suggestions get implemented. But until that time, I guess I have to see who can dig the most dirt, and sling the most mud; McCain, or Obama.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Hero for a day...or for at least 57 miles
This past weekend, I participated in the annual Young's Dairy Charity Bike Tour. Truth be told, this event was the reason I bought my bike last year. I just had a feeling this was something I should do. So I got the bike, lost about 50 pounds, started eating better and got to the point this year where I thought I could do the one day event; all 56 miles of it.
It was set to be a packed weekend, because my lovely wife was planning our son's second birthday that same weekend (on Sunday) and the bike tour was on Saturday. She had many plans to make, decorations to order, things to stress out about, meanwhile I undertook the task of collecting donations for the charity, training for the event and stressing out that I would actually survive. Since my regular training ride is between 21 and 23 miles, taking the 56 mile option seemed to be nearly impossible. My mother was helpful, she said that the typical thumb rule is that you can ride approximately three times your regular comfortable ride. That eased my mind a bit even if I couldn't find any other supporting advice. But her being my mommy, I had to trust that she knew what she was talking about. That helped a little bit, but at work, I had to contend with Dan.
Dan is the guy in the office we all love to hate. And when I say hate, I mean pick on very intensely to the point where a lesser man would want to cry. But he's not defenseless, he gives as good as he gets. And he was reminding me that 56 miles was a long way to go if I never even went half that before. I reminded him that there would be rest stops along the way and stop signs, trains, etc that would give me time to rest a bit. But he insisted that I respect the distance and my lack of experience with it. I admit that he got inside my head a bit.
The day of the event arrived and I showed up with my $532 I had raised for the four charities. After checking in, getting my map and bib number, I went back to my vehicle to watch the other riders do their thing, so I could pretend I knew what I was doing too. I met a lady that had also come to the event alone and I was trying to read the back of her shirt. She snapped her head around and said "Are you looking at my butt?" I was a little shocked, but I answered that I was just reading her shirt...honest. And which point she said, "Would you please look at it? I've never worn cycling shorts with a thick pad before, does it look like I'm wearing a diaper?" I told her that no one looks good in cycling shorts and turned around myself to show her my Lycra and chamois pad rump. We had a good laugh and discovered that it was the first bike tour for each of us. I also met a nice couple that promised to show me the ropes if I could keep up with them. I did for the most part and did learn quite a bit in that time. Thank you Donni and Jennine!
So, what does it feel like to ride 56 miles? Well, the first 14 (the distance to the first rest stop) was pretty good. Everyone was together and I got passed by a lot of people, but for the most part, we were a big peleton encouraging each other, pointing out sharp things in the road and having a blast. That first stop was at a small firehouse and I thought about turning around and heading back. I knew that no one would think less of me, and 28 miles was still longer than I had ridden before. But I decided that if I could do 28 miles, I might as well go to the second rest stop and then make the decision to quit if I needed to. Thanks to Dan for getting in my head.
The second leg was awesome! I managed to hit a top speed of 27.4 mph, and do a mile in 2:41 seconds. Those hills were a lot of fun since each one was higher than the next one. By the time I got to the second stop, I was feeling pretty rested and ready for more. So I stopped, ate a banana and some peanuts and refilled my water and sports drink. The Alzheimer's Association was sponsoring this stop and were playing Christmas music and displaying decorations all over the shelter. One lady complained about it and said she didn't like it, but I chimed in by saying these are the Alzheimer's people...maybe they forgot when Christmas was. Turns out, this was one of the better Alzheimer's jokes the staff had heard that day. After a stop by the porta-potty, I was ready to head out. There were maybe three dozen people behind me when I left that stop. Many went on to Ada, while a few of us made the return trip to Young's.
Remember those hills that were so fun to go down? Well, going up was not a pleasurable experience since, as logic would present, each hill was taller than the last. The ladies that complained about the Christmas decorations were ahead of me and I managed to pass the weaker climber at one point. Her friend stopped to wait for her a few times which allowed me to have open road and no traffic, but more hills than I knew how to handle. My speed wasn't all that fast heading back to the firehouse. I was feeling very weary and my body was complaining about every bump, jitter and headwind. Did I mention the headwind? Yeah, not only did I have to climb massive hills, I had to do it with the wind in my face most of the way. And just when I was about to stop on the side of the road for a little break, I heard it...the noon testing of the firehouse siren. It was only 11:55 by my GPS, but when I heard it, I knew that I was very close and muscled on for the next half mile until I could pull in and take a break.
This third stop was pretty much deserted. There were a few people there, but they left shortly after I arrived. The staffing was very polite and gave me more bananas, peanuts and cookies. Again, I refilled all my bottles and thought long and hard about asking them to call me in for SAG. The Christmas in July haters arrived and dismounted for a break as well. They too filled up and ate a few things and then hopped right back on for the return trip. I was 43 miles into the tour by this point. Only 13 to go. They left and I had to either ride out with them so I had someone to follow or tell the staff to radio me in. I knocked Dan off my shoulder and followed the ladies.
This final leg was quite surreal. I went past churches and cemeteries and other landmarks I remembered and couldn't believe that it had been so long that I had first gone by them. Had I really done over 40 miles since I last saw that beat up combine? I guess so! Again, the weaker climber hung back and again I passed her. Her friend had stopped to wait for her at the I-70 crossing and I passed her as well...barely. I was all alone again on the road. About mile fifty, I started to feel a cramping in my left knee. Soon, a group of ladies that had arrived at the rest stop after us caught up to me and soon that gals that stopped on I-70 caught up to us as well. I don't know how they did it, but the group of five ladies managed to talk to each other the entire route. I rode with them for a short while, but they were clearly in better condition and managed to get about 1000 feet ahead of me. By mile 52, I talked myself out of the cramp, but at mile 55, my right knee started to feel sore. I tried the same trick of drinking a lot of water and Gatorade to try and flush it down, but this wasn't a muscle cramp, it was the creaking of the joint. But it was mile 55. Only one more to go!
Well, not really. Ya see, the first rest stop had been at mile 13.75. The second pit stop was around 15 miles from there. 28.75 x 2 = 57.5 miles. With two and a half miles left to go, I was having trouble keeping my pace. I found a low gear I could turn and just did my cadence as best I could. I was slow, but I was consistent. I saw the ladies up ahead turn left and saw many fast moving cars beyond them. "Please let that be Route 68!" I said out loud. Then I took a quick glance at my map and realized that we would actually turn right on 68, not left. And then I heard the most exhilarating sound of all. The roar and fury of an F-16 fighter jet blasting through the clear sky. Young's Dairy is less than a mile away from an Air National Guard base, and the boys were taking advantage of the great weather to put in some flight time. When I realized that I was only about a half mile away from the finish, I started to pedal a little faster and with more conviction. Once I got on 68, the fighters again flew over me, and I raised my arm toward them, thanking them for the NASCAR-like greeting. They didn't know I was there, I'm sure, but I'm still going to believe the fly-over was just for me.
I pulled into the Young's parking lot at 1:17pm. Five and a quarter hours after I left in the morning. My GPS told me that I had been moving for just over four and a half hours, so that meant I stayed at each rest stop about 15 minutes. I met the young lady with the bike shorts as she was just leaving. We congratulated each other on our accomplishments and she reminded me that there was food and a place to sit my entire bottom down instead of just on a saddle. And then she reminded me of the most wonderful thing of all. FREE ICE-CREAM!!! So I bid her farewell and went on to meet up with the Christmas haters and the hen party and the few others that had pulled in right before me. Just as I was checking in, they were calling the radios to alert them to the people who were still out on the course and might need to be swept in. The route was to close at 2:00, but I had beaten that by over forty minutes.
The food was good, the water was cold and the ice cream was absolutely awesome. I thanked our hosts for a great event and started to leave. As I was walking away, one of the ladies shouted "Hey! Just so you know, you guys raised over $30,000 for the charities at check-in!". That was just at check-in! We still have a month to collect contributions and have our companies match our donations before the final number is determined. We were supporting the Alzheimer's Association, Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, Wellness Connection, and United Rehabilitation Services. To these people, and the those they support, I was a hero. With the money we raised, other were able to have a better life. Maybe steps would be made to finding cures. And without question, we were DOING something to help and not just talking about it.
What did I learn? Well, when they say 56 miles, they might mean up to 2 miles more than that. Bike trail miles are much different than country road miles. While I managed to maintain a respectable pedal spin of 63.5 cranks per minute, I really should have trained myself to spin faster using muscles that wear out slower. Eat more carbohydrates the week of the event. Ignore the negativity of your friends. When it's hot, you're tired and someone plays Christmas music...thank them for they are just trying to put a smile on your face. And it's OK to Listen for the sirens and the jets and believe they are harking your triumphant arrival!
It was set to be a packed weekend, because my lovely wife was planning our son's second birthday that same weekend (on Sunday) and the bike tour was on Saturday. She had many plans to make, decorations to order, things to stress out about, meanwhile I undertook the task of collecting donations for the charity, training for the event and stressing out that I would actually survive. Since my regular training ride is between 21 and 23 miles, taking the 56 mile option seemed to be nearly impossible. My mother was helpful, she said that the typical thumb rule is that you can ride approximately three times your regular comfortable ride. That eased my mind a bit even if I couldn't find any other supporting advice. But her being my mommy, I had to trust that she knew what she was talking about. That helped a little bit, but at work, I had to contend with Dan.
Dan is the guy in the office we all love to hate. And when I say hate, I mean pick on very intensely to the point where a lesser man would want to cry. But he's not defenseless, he gives as good as he gets. And he was reminding me that 56 miles was a long way to go if I never even went half that before. I reminded him that there would be rest stops along the way and stop signs, trains, etc that would give me time to rest a bit. But he insisted that I respect the distance and my lack of experience with it. I admit that he got inside my head a bit.
The day of the event arrived and I showed up with my $532 I had raised for the four charities. After checking in, getting my map and bib number, I went back to my vehicle to watch the other riders do their thing, so I could pretend I knew what I was doing too. I met a lady that had also come to the event alone and I was trying to read the back of her shirt. She snapped her head around and said "Are you looking at my butt?" I was a little shocked, but I answered that I was just reading her shirt...honest. And which point she said, "Would you please look at it? I've never worn cycling shorts with a thick pad before, does it look like I'm wearing a diaper?" I told her that no one looks good in cycling shorts and turned around myself to show her my Lycra and chamois pad rump. We had a good laugh and discovered that it was the first bike tour for each of us. I also met a nice couple that promised to show me the ropes if I could keep up with them. I did for the most part and did learn quite a bit in that time. Thank you Donni and Jennine!
So, what does it feel like to ride 56 miles? Well, the first 14 (the distance to the first rest stop) was pretty good. Everyone was together and I got passed by a lot of people, but for the most part, we were a big peleton encouraging each other, pointing out sharp things in the road and having a blast. That first stop was at a small firehouse and I thought about turning around and heading back. I knew that no one would think less of me, and 28 miles was still longer than I had ridden before. But I decided that if I could do 28 miles, I might as well go to the second rest stop and then make the decision to quit if I needed to. Thanks to Dan for getting in my head.
The second leg was awesome! I managed to hit a top speed of 27.4 mph, and do a mile in 2:41 seconds. Those hills were a lot of fun since each one was higher than the next one. By the time I got to the second stop, I was feeling pretty rested and ready for more. So I stopped, ate a banana and some peanuts and refilled my water and sports drink. The Alzheimer's Association was sponsoring this stop and were playing Christmas music and displaying decorations all over the shelter. One lady complained about it and said she didn't like it, but I chimed in by saying these are the Alzheimer's people...maybe they forgot when Christmas was. Turns out, this was one of the better Alzheimer's jokes the staff had heard that day. After a stop by the porta-potty, I was ready to head out. There were maybe three dozen people behind me when I left that stop. Many went on to Ada, while a few of us made the return trip to Young's.
Remember those hills that were so fun to go down? Well, going up was not a pleasurable experience since, as logic would present, each hill was taller than the last. The ladies that complained about the Christmas decorations were ahead of me and I managed to pass the weaker climber at one point. Her friend stopped to wait for her a few times which allowed me to have open road and no traffic, but more hills than I knew how to handle. My speed wasn't all that fast heading back to the firehouse. I was feeling very weary and my body was complaining about every bump, jitter and headwind. Did I mention the headwind? Yeah, not only did I have to climb massive hills, I had to do it with the wind in my face most of the way. And just when I was about to stop on the side of the road for a little break, I heard it...the noon testing of the firehouse siren. It was only 11:55 by my GPS, but when I heard it, I knew that I was very close and muscled on for the next half mile until I could pull in and take a break.
This third stop was pretty much deserted. There were a few people there, but they left shortly after I arrived. The staffing was very polite and gave me more bananas, peanuts and cookies. Again, I refilled all my bottles and thought long and hard about asking them to call me in for SAG. The Christmas in July haters arrived and dismounted for a break as well. They too filled up and ate a few things and then hopped right back on for the return trip. I was 43 miles into the tour by this point. Only 13 to go. They left and I had to either ride out with them so I had someone to follow or tell the staff to radio me in. I knocked Dan off my shoulder and followed the ladies.
This final leg was quite surreal. I went past churches and cemeteries and other landmarks I remembered and couldn't believe that it had been so long that I had first gone by them. Had I really done over 40 miles since I last saw that beat up combine? I guess so! Again, the weaker climber hung back and again I passed her. Her friend had stopped to wait for her at the I-70 crossing and I passed her as well...barely. I was all alone again on the road. About mile fifty, I started to feel a cramping in my left knee. Soon, a group of ladies that had arrived at the rest stop after us caught up to me and soon that gals that stopped on I-70 caught up to us as well. I don't know how they did it, but the group of five ladies managed to talk to each other the entire route. I rode with them for a short while, but they were clearly in better condition and managed to get about 1000 feet ahead of me. By mile 52, I talked myself out of the cramp, but at mile 55, my right knee started to feel sore. I tried the same trick of drinking a lot of water and Gatorade to try and flush it down, but this wasn't a muscle cramp, it was the creaking of the joint. But it was mile 55. Only one more to go!
Well, not really. Ya see, the first rest stop had been at mile 13.75. The second pit stop was around 15 miles from there. 28.75 x 2 = 57.5 miles. With two and a half miles left to go, I was having trouble keeping my pace. I found a low gear I could turn and just did my cadence as best I could. I was slow, but I was consistent. I saw the ladies up ahead turn left and saw many fast moving cars beyond them. "Please let that be Route 68!" I said out loud. Then I took a quick glance at my map and realized that we would actually turn right on 68, not left. And then I heard the most exhilarating sound of all. The roar and fury of an F-16 fighter jet blasting through the clear sky. Young's Dairy is less than a mile away from an Air National Guard base, and the boys were taking advantage of the great weather to put in some flight time. When I realized that I was only about a half mile away from the finish, I started to pedal a little faster and with more conviction. Once I got on 68, the fighters again flew over me, and I raised my arm toward them, thanking them for the NASCAR-like greeting. They didn't know I was there, I'm sure, but I'm still going to believe the fly-over was just for me.
I pulled into the Young's parking lot at 1:17pm. Five and a quarter hours after I left in the morning. My GPS told me that I had been moving for just over four and a half hours, so that meant I stayed at each rest stop about 15 minutes. I met the young lady with the bike shorts as she was just leaving. We congratulated each other on our accomplishments and she reminded me that there was food and a place to sit my entire bottom down instead of just on a saddle. And then she reminded me of the most wonderful thing of all. FREE ICE-CREAM!!! So I bid her farewell and went on to meet up with the Christmas haters and the hen party and the few others that had pulled in right before me. Just as I was checking in, they were calling the radios to alert them to the people who were still out on the course and might need to be swept in. The route was to close at 2:00, but I had beaten that by over forty minutes.
The food was good, the water was cold and the ice cream was absolutely awesome. I thanked our hosts for a great event and started to leave. As I was walking away, one of the ladies shouted "Hey! Just so you know, you guys raised over $30,000 for the charities at check-in!". That was just at check-in! We still have a month to collect contributions and have our companies match our donations before the final number is determined. We were supporting the Alzheimer's Association, Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, Wellness Connection, and United Rehabilitation Services. To these people, and the those they support, I was a hero. With the money we raised, other were able to have a better life. Maybe steps would be made to finding cures. And without question, we were DOING something to help and not just talking about it.
What did I learn? Well, when they say 56 miles, they might mean up to 2 miles more than that. Bike trail miles are much different than country road miles. While I managed to maintain a respectable pedal spin of 63.5 cranks per minute, I really should have trained myself to spin faster using muscles that wear out slower. Eat more carbohydrates the week of the event. Ignore the negativity of your friends. When it's hot, you're tired and someone plays Christmas music...thank them for they are just trying to put a smile on your face. And it's OK to Listen for the sirens and the jets and believe they are harking your triumphant arrival!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
4 Simple Rules
In the years before our marriage, my wife and I developed rules for coping with various situations we encountered. These rules have been very finely crafted so to cover as many problems as possible and the fact they endear to this day stands as a testimony to their power and effectiveness. Now through 5 years of marriage, a child and all the other assorted maturing we've done, the rules still work. So I share them with you. Here they are in the order they were needed and created.
Rule #1 Wear comfortable shoes. Sometimes we tend to wear shoes that look good and make us feel good about ourselves. And there is no problem at all with this philosophy...for the first 2 hours. Anything beyond that and the mood tends to shift toward the bad side of town. But if comfortable shoes are worn, you stay happy all day long. Why was this rule created? Three inch heals worn at an outdoor car show. Nuff said.
Rule #2 Eat what you like. Yes there is healthy food, and there is tasty food. However there is no reason that healthy food can't taste good. Since food is required, taste should be the most important thing. Obviously, if the choices are limited, you eat what you have, but if you have the choice, arrange the ingredients in such a way that you make those involuntary MMMMMmmmmm noises. Why was this rule created? A meal that was perfectly healthy but impossible to get past the tongue. How healthy is it really if you can't convince your body to swallow it?
Rule #3 No Freaking Out. This is pretty self explanatory. Frequently we as a society tend to complain, whine, and indulge in armchair outcries about the injustices of the world. No, things aren't fair. Yes, things should be changed. But why complain unless you are going to make a plan to fix it? Life comes at you pretty fast and you need to have the right combination of humor and situational agility. There is not enough time to lose your wits when there is a crisis. Why was this rule created? A doctors appointment where we expected to hear very scary news.
Rule #4. Rule #4 is very special to us. We are bound tightly by this rule and frequently have to remind each other when we are about to break this important and agreed upon rule for our lives. This rule was created right before our first child was born while she was still pregnant and it helped guide us through the entire delivery process. Unfortunately, as important as this rule is, neither one of us can remember what it is. We should have written it down. Maybe that's what it was? Whenever we are told we are about to break this important rule, we stop doing whatever it is that bothers the other person and life is happy again.
These rules may sound unconventional, but they consistently get us through many situations. With a small set of the correct tools, you can build and fix many wonderful things.
Rule #1 Wear comfortable shoes. Sometimes we tend to wear shoes that look good and make us feel good about ourselves. And there is no problem at all with this philosophy...for the first 2 hours. Anything beyond that and the mood tends to shift toward the bad side of town. But if comfortable shoes are worn, you stay happy all day long. Why was this rule created? Three inch heals worn at an outdoor car show. Nuff said.
Rule #2 Eat what you like. Yes there is healthy food, and there is tasty food. However there is no reason that healthy food can't taste good. Since food is required, taste should be the most important thing. Obviously, if the choices are limited, you eat what you have, but if you have the choice, arrange the ingredients in such a way that you make those involuntary MMMMMmmmmm noises. Why was this rule created? A meal that was perfectly healthy but impossible to get past the tongue. How healthy is it really if you can't convince your body to swallow it?
Rule #3 No Freaking Out. This is pretty self explanatory. Frequently we as a society tend to complain, whine, and indulge in armchair outcries about the injustices of the world. No, things aren't fair. Yes, things should be changed. But why complain unless you are going to make a plan to fix it? Life comes at you pretty fast and you need to have the right combination of humor and situational agility. There is not enough time to lose your wits when there is a crisis. Why was this rule created? A doctors appointment where we expected to hear very scary news.
Rule #4. Rule #4 is very special to us. We are bound tightly by this rule and frequently have to remind each other when we are about to break this important and agreed upon rule for our lives. This rule was created right before our first child was born while she was still pregnant and it helped guide us through the entire delivery process. Unfortunately, as important as this rule is, neither one of us can remember what it is. We should have written it down. Maybe that's what it was? Whenever we are told we are about to break this important rule, we stop doing whatever it is that bothers the other person and life is happy again.
These rules may sound unconventional, but they consistently get us through many situations. With a small set of the correct tools, you can build and fix many wonderful things.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Yep...I'm old
God makes children so cute for a reason. And those of us with kids know what that reason is.
It's amazing what we do for our kids. And now that I'm a father, I understand much of what my own father went through. I also found out how old I feel when I looking back to my own childhood and seeing how different the world has become. And all of this insight happened while I joined the fraternal society of fathers who have assembled a swing set.
First of all, the metal swing set has been around for over one hundred years. And during all that time, I don't think they have ever changed their manufacturing processes or assembly instructions. I don't know how exactly they do it, but the people that make these things seem to have a sadistic bent. I half wonder if they somehow include a video camera so they can record the assembly and laugh their evil little engineer asses off.
The holes seem to never line up, even accidentally. And if you ever do happen to force a screw into a hole to put two parts together, it isn't long enough to actually get a nut threaded. How is this solved? With the hammer the instructions recommend in the tool list. It seems to have no documented purpose, but is listed as a requirement for assembly. But even bending the metal and twisting the nut onto the one and only exposed thread, you now have a problem you could not have expected.
The bolts are straight slot screw heads. Why does this fact matter? Well, they are almost impossible to screw into the provided locking nut with a manual screwdriver. So, you reach for your trusty 18 Volt cordless right? That's what I thought too. But this happens to have more torque than the cheap bolts can handle and you wind up shredding the screw head into something that can never be removed and can reach out and cut a child wide open.
So the hardware will need to be replaced with hex head bolts, and the lock nuts replaced with lock washers and regular nuts. The places you had to bang with a hammer will need to be sanded and painted to avoid surface rusting. And then to top it off, we need to figure out a way to anchor the thing to the ground? Why does it need anchored? Well, it just makes good sense. And this brings us around to how much things have changed.
My metal swing set that I had as a kid was never anchored down. That just added to the thrill of it when I was finally able to make it rock while I was swinging. Also, my swing set had a metal slide. And the steel wasn't rolled tight in places so I managed to cut my hands sometimes when I griped the sides on the way down. And if it happened to be sunny and I was wearing shorts, that metal slide got very hot on the thighs. Not much of a chance in that happening with the plastic one on my boy's swing set.
The slides on the playground were different back then too. First of all, they were metal, so they had the same skillet effect on the sunny days. Secondly, they were about 10 feet tall with a ladder going up the whole way without a fall cage. And the final proof that adults in the '70s were trying to kill us, the playground was not built upon deep sand and mulch or those snazzy rubber pellets made from recycled tires. No, the ground was covered with rocks. Not smooth ones either, but the hardest, pointiest and sharpest ones they could find. If we got cut or skinned on the rocks or griddle marks from the slide, the nurse would give us a squirt of Bacctine and an Aspirin and tell us to walk it off. Today, that would be a lawsuit.
Yep, things are different now, and the moment you have thoughts about how much things have changed, you are officially old. Things may be safer now, but I wonder if we are also doing our children a disservice by making them pawns in a legal chess match. Our kids are precious and should be protected. But should they also learn that life brings lessons in the form of skinned knees? Were we shaped by our playground? Without question. Now we are more careful on the monkey bars, pour water down a metal slide and don't put our feet on the bar of the teeter totter. I wonder what new lessons our 'green' and safety friendly playgrounds will show my kids.
It's amazing what we do for our kids. And now that I'm a father, I understand much of what my own father went through. I also found out how old I feel when I looking back to my own childhood and seeing how different the world has become. And all of this insight happened while I joined the fraternal society of fathers who have assembled a swing set.
First of all, the metal swing set has been around for over one hundred years. And during all that time, I don't think they have ever changed their manufacturing processes or assembly instructions. I don't know how exactly they do it, but the people that make these things seem to have a sadistic bent. I half wonder if they somehow include a video camera so they can record the assembly and laugh their evil little engineer asses off.
The holes seem to never line up, even accidentally. And if you ever do happen to force a screw into a hole to put two parts together, it isn't long enough to actually get a nut threaded. How is this solved? With the hammer the instructions recommend in the tool list. It seems to have no documented purpose, but is listed as a requirement for assembly. But even bending the metal and twisting the nut onto the one and only exposed thread, you now have a problem you could not have expected.
The bolts are straight slot screw heads. Why does this fact matter? Well, they are almost impossible to screw into the provided locking nut with a manual screwdriver. So, you reach for your trusty 18 Volt cordless right? That's what I thought too. But this happens to have more torque than the cheap bolts can handle and you wind up shredding the screw head into something that can never be removed and can reach out and cut a child wide open.
So the hardware will need to be replaced with hex head bolts, and the lock nuts replaced with lock washers and regular nuts. The places you had to bang with a hammer will need to be sanded and painted to avoid surface rusting. And then to top it off, we need to figure out a way to anchor the thing to the ground? Why does it need anchored? Well, it just makes good sense. And this brings us around to how much things have changed.
My metal swing set that I had as a kid was never anchored down. That just added to the thrill of it when I was finally able to make it rock while I was swinging. Also, my swing set had a metal slide. And the steel wasn't rolled tight in places so I managed to cut my hands sometimes when I griped the sides on the way down. And if it happened to be sunny and I was wearing shorts, that metal slide got very hot on the thighs. Not much of a chance in that happening with the plastic one on my boy's swing set.
The slides on the playground were different back then too. First of all, they were metal, so they had the same skillet effect on the sunny days. Secondly, they were about 10 feet tall with a ladder going up the whole way without a fall cage. And the final proof that adults in the '70s were trying to kill us, the playground was not built upon deep sand and mulch or those snazzy rubber pellets made from recycled tires. No, the ground was covered with rocks. Not smooth ones either, but the hardest, pointiest and sharpest ones they could find. If we got cut or skinned on the rocks or griddle marks from the slide, the nurse would give us a squirt of Bacctine and an Aspirin and tell us to walk it off. Today, that would be a lawsuit.
Yep, things are different now, and the moment you have thoughts about how much things have changed, you are officially old. Things may be safer now, but I wonder if we are also doing our children a disservice by making them pawns in a legal chess match. Our kids are precious and should be protected. But should they also learn that life brings lessons in the form of skinned knees? Were we shaped by our playground? Without question. Now we are more careful on the monkey bars, pour water down a metal slide and don't put our feet on the bar of the teeter totter. I wonder what new lessons our 'green' and safety friendly playgrounds will show my kids.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Why I hate Todd Oliver
Why do I take risks? Why do I try as many things as I can? Do I have some super human ability to laugh in the face of failure rather than fear it? No. I fear failure, just like everyone else. Do I fear the lack of effort? No, I rather enjoy my time spent scratching my potato chip littered belly while watching television. No, I fear Todd Oliver.
I've known him my whole life. He's been there every step of the way. Pushing me on, urging me to do and try and become as many things as possible. And through it all, he's been the instigator and camera man of every stupid thing I've ever done in my life. He's always had a macabre control over me that defies explanation. He tells me that he has a secret that he'll tell everyone if I don't do the things he tells me. I'm not sure what that could be.
We all have secrets, I'm smart enough to know that. We've all cheated, lied, stolen and left a rotting carcase where once a friend stood. We've all not been what we claim and resisted our moment to stand up for what we believe. But we all have that one secret that if revealed could shake our credibility, cost our friends if not our jobs and throw us into a life of misery. There are a few people that know all my secrets. But Todd Oliver claims to know one that hasn't been shared yet. He won't tell me what it is, but I believe him. Maybe there is something in there that I've not admitted to.
He tells me to do things that could embarrass or hurt me. I resist...but only for a moment. Then I give in to his whim. Meanwhile he laughs that sadistic chuckle and wiggles his fingers like a puppet master. I do whatever it is he suggests. Sometimes I succeed and laugh in that little twerp's face. But quite often I fail. It was in my last failure, running a 5K race in under 45 minutes where I realized that he liked it when I failed. Oddly enough, he liked it when I succeeded too. He was always eager to tell everyone of my conquest and tell my story to anyone that cared to tune in. But when I fail, he loves it! Those are the moments he lives for, and I finally know why.
I have a knack. When I fail, I fail with panache. I don't fear the failure, I fear the lack of style when I do. Sure, an octogenarian out ran me. But to her credit, she looked and acted much younger than her drivers license said. And when I crossed that line, I crossed it with gusto, running as fast as I could and pumping my fist in the air. The real failure was in not being with my wife while she struggled. And that was something that hit me like a ton of bricks. And that is what I mean about failing with style. Sure, I completed the race. But I wasn't available when I was needed.
The worst failure is the one you don't see coming. You think you win, but you really lose. I hate Todd Oliver. That little brat reminds me of every single minute failure, and how I did it in the most grandious fashion imaginable. Todd Oliver is a sadistic, mean spirited, tool of a man. I hate him. But he is my muse. It is at his urging that I write his very words. One day Todd Oliver...one day, your words are going to make me famous.
I've known him my whole life. He's been there every step of the way. Pushing me on, urging me to do and try and become as many things as possible. And through it all, he's been the instigator and camera man of every stupid thing I've ever done in my life. He's always had a macabre control over me that defies explanation. He tells me that he has a secret that he'll tell everyone if I don't do the things he tells me. I'm not sure what that could be.
We all have secrets, I'm smart enough to know that. We've all cheated, lied, stolen and left a rotting carcase where once a friend stood. We've all not been what we claim and resisted our moment to stand up for what we believe. But we all have that one secret that if revealed could shake our credibility, cost our friends if not our jobs and throw us into a life of misery. There are a few people that know all my secrets. But Todd Oliver claims to know one that hasn't been shared yet. He won't tell me what it is, but I believe him. Maybe there is something in there that I've not admitted to.
He tells me to do things that could embarrass or hurt me. I resist...but only for a moment. Then I give in to his whim. Meanwhile he laughs that sadistic chuckle and wiggles his fingers like a puppet master. I do whatever it is he suggests. Sometimes I succeed and laugh in that little twerp's face. But quite often I fail. It was in my last failure, running a 5K race in under 45 minutes where I realized that he liked it when I failed. Oddly enough, he liked it when I succeeded too. He was always eager to tell everyone of my conquest and tell my story to anyone that cared to tune in. But when I fail, he loves it! Those are the moments he lives for, and I finally know why.
I have a knack. When I fail, I fail with panache. I don't fear the failure, I fear the lack of style when I do. Sure, an octogenarian out ran me. But to her credit, she looked and acted much younger than her drivers license said. And when I crossed that line, I crossed it with gusto, running as fast as I could and pumping my fist in the air. The real failure was in not being with my wife while she struggled. And that was something that hit me like a ton of bricks. And that is what I mean about failing with style. Sure, I completed the race. But I wasn't available when I was needed.
The worst failure is the one you don't see coming. You think you win, but you really lose. I hate Todd Oliver. That little brat reminds me of every single minute failure, and how I did it in the most grandious fashion imaginable. Todd Oliver is a sadistic, mean spirited, tool of a man. I hate him. But he is my muse. It is at his urging that I write his very words. One day Todd Oliver...one day, your words are going to make me famous.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
My first 5K
Well gang, I finally did it. I ran a 5K. Some of you might know that I've been training to lose weight and participate in some charity bike rides. But I was challenged by someone at work, to whom the cause (colon cancer), was quite important. Being the supportive friend I am, I eagerly accepted the offer. In fact, my father also joined in on the fun. Shirley and Naiden were there too, but didn't have near as much fun. More on that later.
The air was a little brisk and the wind was a little more so than anyone in this house expected. It was in the low to mid 40s, but the wind...the wind would not be denied. So we dressed our little guy appropriately, or so we thought and headed to the course. We got there early so we could register, but found ourselves with a lot of free time while waiting for things to happen. And they finally did. The gun went off, and we launched out on our first 5K.
Things were actually going very well. I was walking beside Shirley who was pushing the stroller with Naiden, his diaper bag and a few bottles of water and some snacks. We are not big time walkers, but we have put on many miles before and 5K, while something we've never done as an event was a distance we had covered in the past quite handily. Thinking that all was well, Shirley gave me the go ahead to jog ahead if I'd like. So I did. Shortly after that, her problems began.
The course map for the event listed it as being a residential neighborhood with a few slight hills. What it did not say was that was only the first half mile. Breaking away from my wife and son, I was the first of us to see what would become a major problem: the first big hill. It was tough, but I did manage to walk up it, and I was sure that Shirley and Naiden would manage it as well. And they did. However, remember the wind and the cold I mentioned? Well, about the time they got to that hill, both became a little too much for Naiden. Even though we had a blanket wrapped around him in the stroller, we had thought winter was over and forgot to bring his mittens. He was getting cold and restless in the stroller. So Shirley did the only thing she could and that was spring him from the stroller and let him walk behind. That worked until he wanted picked up. So she was carrying him and trying to push the stroller at the same time. Me, being the bad husband I am, was probably a quarter mile away and didn't know anything about her plight.
After the race, Dad and I went back to find Shirley and she was even behind the trailing vehicle. Crying and carrying a fussy toddler, she promised she would never do this again. So we got everyone back to the shelter and had some food. She never officially finished the race, since she didn't cross the line, but after some time to cool down, we made some ground rules. 1) She would only do another 5K if it was flat. 2) If a course map was not available, we would drive around the area to determine if she wanted to do the race. 3) I would stay with her if she was pushing the stroller. (truth be told, I probably would have finished in about the same time if we had stuck together) In the end, she didn't hate the 5K, or me, it was more a function of the cold, the wind and the slightly flat course we had to navigate that soured her first experience. The weather, combined with our lack of preparation and the shifting temperament of a 20 month old made for a bad first race, but now we know the kinds of things that can go wrong and have built another checklist for the next time.
How did we do? Well, my time was 46:12. Not bad for my first 5K and doing no training outside of cycling. My friend that got me into this mess in the first place was 15 minutes ahead of me at 31:28. Father was only 2 minutes ahead of my at 44:10. And the 86 year old lady was only 45 seconds faster than me! I came in 145/213 overall and 6/9 in my age group.
I was sore the next day...and the day after that....and even into the next day. The pounding of the road, even with brand new running shoes was something this old body hadn't felt in a long time. So I've incorporated running into my workouts in hopes to build my endurance for the long bike tour as well as compete in a few more 5Ks throughout the year. Besides, maybe it will help me lose some of that back fat.
The air was a little brisk and the wind was a little more so than anyone in this house expected. It was in the low to mid 40s, but the wind...the wind would not be denied. So we dressed our little guy appropriately, or so we thought and headed to the course. We got there early so we could register, but found ourselves with a lot of free time while waiting for things to happen. And they finally did. The gun went off, and we launched out on our first 5K.
Things were actually going very well. I was walking beside Shirley who was pushing the stroller with Naiden, his diaper bag and a few bottles of water and some snacks. We are not big time walkers, but we have put on many miles before and 5K, while something we've never done as an event was a distance we had covered in the past quite handily. Thinking that all was well, Shirley gave me the go ahead to jog ahead if I'd like. So I did. Shortly after that, her problems began.
The course map for the event listed it as being a residential neighborhood with a few slight hills. What it did not say was that was only the first half mile. Breaking away from my wife and son, I was the first of us to see what would become a major problem: the first big hill. It was tough, but I did manage to walk up it, and I was sure that Shirley and Naiden would manage it as well. And they did. However, remember the wind and the cold I mentioned? Well, about the time they got to that hill, both became a little too much for Naiden. Even though we had a blanket wrapped around him in the stroller, we had thought winter was over and forgot to bring his mittens. He was getting cold and restless in the stroller. So Shirley did the only thing she could and that was spring him from the stroller and let him walk behind. That worked until he wanted picked up. So she was carrying him and trying to push the stroller at the same time. Me, being the bad husband I am, was probably a quarter mile away and didn't know anything about her plight.
After the race, Dad and I went back to find Shirley and she was even behind the trailing vehicle. Crying and carrying a fussy toddler, she promised she would never do this again. So we got everyone back to the shelter and had some food. She never officially finished the race, since she didn't cross the line, but after some time to cool down, we made some ground rules. 1) She would only do another 5K if it was flat. 2) If a course map was not available, we would drive around the area to determine if she wanted to do the race. 3) I would stay with her if she was pushing the stroller. (truth be told, I probably would have finished in about the same time if we had stuck together) In the end, she didn't hate the 5K, or me, it was more a function of the cold, the wind and the slightly flat course we had to navigate that soured her first experience. The weather, combined with our lack of preparation and the shifting temperament of a 20 month old made for a bad first race, but now we know the kinds of things that can go wrong and have built another checklist for the next time.
How did we do? Well, my time was 46:12. Not bad for my first 5K and doing no training outside of cycling. My friend that got me into this mess in the first place was 15 minutes ahead of me at 31:28. Father was only 2 minutes ahead of my at 44:10. And the 86 year old lady was only 45 seconds faster than me! I came in 145/213 overall and 6/9 in my age group.
I was sore the next day...and the day after that....and even into the next day. The pounding of the road, even with brand new running shoes was something this old body hadn't felt in a long time. So I've incorporated running into my workouts in hopes to build my endurance for the long bike tour as well as compete in a few more 5Ks throughout the year. Besides, maybe it will help me lose some of that back fat.
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