drawing paralells

Last weekend I went on a group ride that’s sponsored by a local shop. It was the first time I had been on the road since the Cherry Blossom. One of the ride leaders asked me if the crashes had messed with my mind. He asked this as if he almost knew that the answer would be “Yes.”

Granted, my hand was still hurting, but there was another reason why I was on a group ride and my teammate was racing. It’s funny how one bad event can somehow make you forget the countless good events that preceded it.

In a way, that’s something that I am also struggling with in my personal life. One individual who violated my trust has made it extremely difficult for me to trust people again. Even though it was the only time I've had that experience.

Somehow, I’m finding it much easier to trust that wheel in front of me while we’re riding at 28mph... which just goes to show that mentally (and physically), we heal much quicker than we do emotionally.

from the archives: balance

A long time ago there was a social networking service called "Myspace" which allowed the user to create blog entries. Most of my old posts have been transferred over to blogger. Here is one from March 2006.

I woke up a few weekends ago after a night of intense partying and realized that something needed to change. This word had been stuck in my head for a few months now and I was desperately trying to do something with it.

Moments like these serve as a reminder of the importance of having balance in your life, of investing your time and energy into things that make you happy, things that are healthy not only physically, but emotionally as well. People tend to forget about this somewhere in between working 60 hour weeks, abusing their bodies, staying in unhealthy situations because they think people will change, because they feel trapped, because they feel like this is as good as it gets.

There is a recurring theme in my life, that I tend to over extend myself to people who don't appreciate it and it lends itself to friendships that become one sided. I am not sure what quality it is within me that seeks these types of bonds or if it is with any intent at all. Maybe I feel as though I can conquer these people. Maybe I think that if I show them just enough love or attention or whatever that they will reciprocate.

So yeah, I guess what I'm saying is that I am going to try to make some better decisions in the future regarding the people and activities I invest myself into.

21 Days

I just received news that the husband of an old family friend passed away. In my small hometown, word gets around quickly, so I was even more surprised because I didn’t even know he was sick. It happened that fast.

Three weeks. 21 days. 504 hours. Cancer doesn’t discriminate.

Where was I on April 5th? Where am I now? Where will I be on May 17th?

This is the type of event that prompts me to ask these types of questions. It jolts me just enough to let go of some of the things that I’ve been holding on to. And, while I’ll most likely carry on as usual after a few days, it doesn’t hurt to think about whether or not I am living life to the fullest.

twelve dollars an hour

On Friday, a sales manager who works for the personal training company that operates out of the gym accosted me. I was a bit ticked off by her blatant disregard for the fact that I was in the middle of a set. I heard her out, but when I started talking about fast and slow twitch muscles, there was a blank look on her face. “Listen” I said, “I could probably work for you.” Then she asked me if I wanted a job. The regional sales manager, who does all of the hiring, was visiting for the day and gave me an interview on the spot. I passed with flying colors!

He told me that the hourly rate to start was twelve dollars. Then he went on to say that rate would increase with additional certifications and more experience. I said that twelve dollars an hour was fine and that I would be happy making that. I told him that I was able to live on about $10,000 a year. He was puzzled. “Ten thousand dollars? How do you live? I mean, what do you do?” He went on to add that when he made $50,000 a year, his next goal was to make $75,000 and then it was $100,000. He was always chasing. For him, success directly translated into how much money he made each year and obviously, it was never enough.

I have heard about people like this. I’ve talked, in theory, about people who are never satisfied. This was the first time that I actually got to interact with someone like this and to engage in a dialogue about it. There was an obvious disconnect when I informed him that my car was paid for, most of the things I enjoy doing (like being outside) are free and that my biggest monthly expense is my cell phone bill which is about $50. His tone and demeanor toward me were condescending. It was almost as if he couldn’t believe that I would choose to live this way and that he felt sorry for me. Little did he know, how sorry I felt for him. 

navigating though life’s awkward moments

The gym is my second home...

I frequently see this woman in the morning. When I enter the locker room she is usually getting ready for work. We’ll say hello and have a brief conversation before I begin my workout.

Yesterday, the first thing I saw when I walked into the locker room was this woman, naked (except for a pair of flip flops) drying her hair. Do I say hello to her and pretend like she isn’t naked? Do I act like I don’t see her?

Looking down as much as possible, I stashed my bag in a locker and made a quick exit. Today, I saw her again. This time she was wearing her work clothes. I said hello and she made a comment about her shoes...much better.

There is another woman who I frequently see in the evening...mid-forties, pale white, short shorts, headband with glasses...my friend refers to her as “the gazelle” because of her graceful nature on the elliptical machine.

And so...from time to time, the gym will give away trial sizes of various products. Last week there was a huge display of Tampax sport tampons on the bathroom counter. After my workout I went to wash my hands and there was the gazelle, standing there with her bag open, totally hoarding boxes of tampons.

It was awkward for two reasons...first, I don’t think she was expecting to see me (or anyone for that matter) and second, because (as gross as this sounds) I really didn’t need associate her with anything that has to do with menstruation.

lessons in forgiveness

I am one of the most forgiving people you’ll ever encounter. Some of my friends argue that I am too forgiving. My belief is that people deserve another chance. We are not the same people we were yesterday, nor who we will be tomorrow.

Forgiveness is a two way street. Somewhere down the road I lost sight of this, most likely because of my involvement with someone who was very unforgiving. It got to the point where I was afraid to say that I was sorry because it wouldn’t make difference. Mistakes were carefully held onto and inventoried for future reference.

In September, my path crossed with an old friend. We had not spoken in several years, but it’s the type of friendship where that doesn’t make a difference. The biggest barrier is the miles between us, which means that most of our communication is technology based. Sometimes I forget that it requires a little more awareness, which has recently caused a rift between us (and she let me know about it). After sitting with my thoughts for several days, I decided to take a chance and told her that I was sorry. She forgave me without hesitation.

I am learning again, how to ask for forgiveness. I am learning that the people in my life who are worth having around will stay there, even if I make a mistake. I am thankful for my friend who has taught me this lesson.

shit that birds say

Lately, I’ve been going to bed pretty early because the birds have been waking me up in the morning.

The bird I’ve heard most frequently this spring is the “Cheeseburger Bird” however, that’s not to say that I haven’t heard a fair share from the “I need you Bird” and the “Cheater Bird.”

Last night I was in the yard with the dog. This time of year allows you to get a better look at these birds because many of the trees are without leaves. Germany Germany Chirpidee...yes, it was none other than the “German Chirpidee Bird.” It took a few minutes to locate where the sound was coming from. I looked up, studied the bird and hopped online to determine what it was.

To my surprise, I discovered that, not only is it a fairly common bird (Carolina Wren) but also, that it makes just about all of the other sounds I’ve been hearing. It turns out that it’s not so much what the bird says as the number of times they say it. In this case, it is multiples of three (cheeseburger cheeseburger cheeseburger).

Personally, I think that kinda takes the fun out of it so I will continue to identify them creatively, by what they say.

Readington ITT

The Readington Time Trial is 9km. After crashing out of my first two races, I figured that it might be a good idea to cross the finish line in one piece for a change and a Time Trial would give me that opportunity.

By Thursday, my right hand was working well enough to shift gears so I decided to give it go. I’d been on my bike about three hours in the past two weeks so my expectations weren’t too high. The biggest problem was going to be the two, large open cuts on each elbow, which were in the spot where I needed to bear weight on the arm rests.

I warmed up on my road bike, then headed to the start line. Taking off, my right knee (which is a big open sore from the Ronde Van Mullica crash) caught the edge of the arm rest and I knew that wasn’t going to be pretty. Aside from my knee throbbing and my lungs feeling like they were bleeding, it pretty much sucked. I rode as hard as I could for 9km, cooled down for about 15 minutes and waited an eternity for the results. I passed one rider and no one passed me so I was fairly confident that I didn’t come in last...and I didn’t.

When I started this journey in November I was told that this season would be a learning experience. Today I learned that I do not enjoy time trials.

blind faith

My recent misfortunes during road races have landed me in the waiting room of a few doctors’ offices. And when I say waiting, I mean waiting...so of course I took advantage of the opportunity to observe those around me. They were old and young, with crutches, braces, walking boots, many clutching onto large envelopes that I can only assume were some type (MRI, X-ray, etc.) of images.

We put our faith in these doctors during times of injury and illness because...Because why? Because they have studied the books and passed the exams? Because they know our bodies better than we know our bodies? Obviously, there are times when medical attention is a necessity, but do we rely on modern medicine to our own detriment?

I thought about the experience I had a few years ago with anemia. I had an endoscopy, and a colonoscopy. I saw a hematologist, gastroenterologist, a general practitioner and an orthopedic doctor. I had blood draws and blood tests every other week. This all resulted in absolutely nothing. The cause of my anemia was never determined.

The problem resolved itself on its own...or did it...maybe it was just a matter of me paying better attention to my body...resting when I felt tired, eating the right things at the right time, not allowing stress to build up, letting go of anger...maybe it was just a matter of being outside more, doing the things that I love.

Sometimes, it seems like technology acts as a blinder. This tunnel vision doesn’t allow us to see the whole picture, the whole person and so; we end up only treating a part.

Keeping healthy comes down to how we help ourselves. The best way to do this is to stay in touch with our bodies and how they work and engaging in life’s simple pleasures.

The Great Gazoo

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day about the space alien that randomly appeared on The Flintstones. It didn’t seem to make much sense to me and I found him to be rather annoying.

Thankfully, someone beat me to the punch on this one...

But then, sometime in the show’s final season, the producers came up with the stultifyingly absurd idea to write in a large-headed, floating green space alien with magical powers. The Great Gazoo is a banished alien who lands on Earth. The Great Gazoo is weird enough, but putting him in the Stone Age pushes on the membrane of surreality. He would smugly assert his superiority over the cavemen creeps he found himself amongst, and then vanish.

What? What the Hell? A green space alien, banished from his home, sent to Earth to mock cavemen, give them brontosaurus racing tips, and swan about, lording his superior powers over people who are barely smart enough to get about town? Even if your fevered mind can come up with some sort of mildly reasonable explanation for his presence on this show, one surely cannot get past his croony smugness.

Take two

My first road race last Sunday ended half a mile short of the finish line with a VIP escort to the ER. So, naturally, it only made sense to wake up at 4am this morning and drive to Newark, NJ for the Cherry Blossom. It made sense because well, what were the odds of crashing again?

There were considerably more riders in this race than I had anticipated. Thankfully, the road was wide and I found a comfortable spot on the outside, which provided me with an escape route in the event of a crash.

In the first lap I heard a crash behind me. In the second lap I heard a crash behind me.

The third crash took place in the final mile of the race. It was the worst sound I have ever heard...until the bodies hit the pavement...and then, THAT was the worst sound I have ever heard. Thankfully, I had enough time to react and hopped the curb. My front tired flatted, I went over the handlebars and landed on my left side in the dirt.

I got back up and walked my bike to the finish line. 35 Riders started the race, 12 crossed the line on their bikes, 3 of us walked there.

It was slightly after 9am. I had been up for five hours, raced my bike about 14 miles, crashed and the only thing I had to look forward to was the long ride back home.

Two hours was way too much time to allow all of what has transpired over the past week to settle in. Last Sunday was disappointing. The crash played on repeat every night. I barely slept. All I thought about was my second chance this weekend. That opportunity came and passed me by. All I have to show for it are more bruises, aches and pains.

This time, it’s difficult to keep it all...the sights, the sounds and most importantly the feelings...from getting into my head.

The Tumbleweave Diaries

A Rather Rude Introduction to Road Racing

It was 11pm and I was still wide-awake. I had promised myself sleep much sooner than this. Dozing off, a loud popping noise got my full attention. I wondered what it was, but was too tired to care.

My alarm clock has the “alarm” setting but I prefer to wake to music and by music, I mean the Spanish station, obnoxiously loud, so that it wakes me up and scares the shit out of me at the same time. No snooze for this guy.

It’s 5 AM and the coffee is brewing. I put my kit on, only to find a hole by one of the seams. I look at my bike and the front tire is flat. That explains the popping noise I heard last night. So, this is how it’s going to be on the day of my first race, I thought to myself...hole in my kit, flat tire...what else? Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked that question.

I arrived at the course and my teammate Lauren pulled in next to me. We warmed up on the trainer for about half an hour, then made our way to the starting line.

As a new Cat 4 racer, I wasn’t sure what to expect, especially because it was a field mixed with more experienced racers. Would they try to break away? Would the pace be too fast for me to hang on? We had barely started and my heart rate was already through the roof. It was nerves. Eventually, I settled down and found the “safe wheel” I was instructed to follow. Aside from a few minor hiccups, I stayed on that wheel for most of the race.

We made the final turn and I knew there were only about two and half miles to go. My legs felt great and my heart rate was low. I was thinking that I had a pretty good chance to be the top Cat 4 finisher and then...I was on the ground and in a daze. My head hurt and my vision was blurry. I was instructed to lie down and stay still until the ambulance arrived. They placed me on a wooden board with a brace around my neck.

On the way to the hospital I could see blood soaking through the sheets in several places so I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. Every article of clothing I was wearing, with the exception of my socks, was destroyed. My helmet did its job and has a nice crack to show for it.

The doctor wanted to perform a CT Scan to make sure there were no broken bones in my face. At that point I hadn't seen myself, but the inability to see out of my right eye was enough for me to know there was some pretty significant trauma to my face.

While we were waiting for the test results (which were negative), I started talking to Lauren about next week’s race “I’m gonna do the Cherry Blossom. I already registered for it.” Today, I feel more like I should feel after going down at 26mph, but no doubt; I’ll be out there Saturday morning...when you fall down, you gotta pick yourself back up and keep on going.