MyDogParty

humor is a panacea

2012-01-16T17:56:00.000-08:00

What is this? Week three of 2012 - mid January? Already, I've slid on back down the sides of that dumpster I've been dwelling in for the last two months. Those sides, it appears, are oily, thick with black goo, slick and greasy. Sliding back down them into my patterns of laziness and "I'll start tomorrow" was so, so easy. It would take far more effort to climb out, get the stench off (and out) and start over again.

In case you have no clue what the hell I'm talking about, I'm metaphorizing my attempts at getting my cycling back up and rolling and my fitness on track for the new year. I have big plans in 2012, ones I'm determined to keep, but I can't do so if I don't kick start my training once and for all. And from one week to the next, the momentum coughed, choked and died.

Part of it (most of it) is in my head. I over think and can't see past the end of my nose let alone the bigger picture. Two Saturdays ago, I rode with Bob on a route that was tough for sure, but I endured and impressed myself. Then, last week, Monday through Friday, when I promised myself I'd work out every day and eat healthy, my efforts puttered out within two days. Mostly, I walked for exercise, only reporting to the gym one day, and that workout was middling at best. There are all sorts of reasons (excuses) as to why this happened, but none of them are worth sharing.

Then, this past Saturday, I had a ride planned. First, it was a solo 50 mile route on my mountain bike. That changed when GT emailed me, asking if I wanted to ride up Stunt Road with him. Two days later, he had to cancel (for very good reasons). With my heart set on Stunt, I lost the desire to ride on dirt all by myself (not to mention that Nellie needs a tune-up desperately).

In the past when ride plans/partners changed, my inner cyclist would kick me hard in the ribs repeatedly, forcing me to ride whatever route on which my heart was set. But at present, she has no kick left in her. I can't blame the poor girl. She's been horribly neglected, at times completely ignored, and sits somewhere within me eating Cheetos, drinking PBR and playing video games on the Xbox. Frightening but true, she couldn't give a shit anymore if I get out on my bike, and this in turn has depressed me terribly (not that I don't deserve it!).

So, instead of riding this past Saturday, I went hiking. Nothing wrong with that except that it isn't in keeping with my goal to get my cycling fitness back. Plus, I had a meltdown (actually before the hike). I realized that I haven't ridden up Mt. Baldy in two years and this just about sent me jumping off the ledge (from my kitchen window and down to the parking lot below would likely only result in a broken ankle, so I wasn't all that serious). Not only was I distressed to not have ridden it, I was downright hysterical over the hard, cold fact that I couldn't ride up that mountain at present even if someone rode alongside me with a cow prod. Yes...I'm that out of cycling shape.

my riding partners beneath a gorgeous So Cal sky...

it just got prettier...

the palm trees never get old...

Flash forward to yesterday, when I rode with Bob and his friend, Fred. I was graciously invited along on their two-man torture fest from Sherman Oaks, out along Ventura, up Mulholland, down Nichols Canyon, back up, out to Sepulveda Blvd. and home. It's only 26 miles but, good Lord, is it painful! I've ridden it before (at least three years ago) and not in its entirety (no Nichols Canyon before), so I thought it would be tough but not that tough. Were I in some form of riding shape that was somewhere near fit, it likely would not have been. But now? It damned near killed me.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Bob parked in my driveway and we took off into the bone-chilling morning air to meet Fred just down the street. Fred is a tall, lean cyclist...with long legs. The moment I saw him, I knew I was in trouble. Bob had already told me that Fred had a time constraint. Translated from male vocabulary, he meant "you'd better move your ass." Sadly, the ass I had on me yesterday was not easy to move. My legs, the primary ass-movers, were in no mood and, quite literally, quit on me once I'd chased the men down (and slightly up) Ventura to where Mulholland begins.

barely hanging on their back wheels...

heading toward Universal City...

Those skies!...

no, really...

The climb up Mulholland from Barham sucks it. I'm not kidding, either. It's stupid steep, wears out its welcome quickly, and for this out-of-shape cyclist, was just cruel. Bob and Fred flew up it, dropping me like a...(oh, you know). I pedaled in my granny panties, sweating in the cold, wheezing and miserable. I stopped briefly at one point to pull off my full-fingered gloves. Hot fingers are beyond annoying! I also needed that brief break to catch my breath. It was here that I began sobbing.

Likely, I should never admit on here when I cry for no damn good reason. But my sense of humor is one that allows me to take my most pathetic moments and expose them like overly-lit porn. Only then do I revel in my gracelessness enough to somewhat make up for it...somewhat. Yesterday, on Mulholland, I was a mess. Crying never does me any good in these instances, especially when I'm already full of snot, and when it's cold enough outside to freeze that snot to the inside of my nostrils. I'm sure I looked a pitiful mess when I finally caught up to the guys at the top.

almost to Barham and Mulholland...

Up Mulholland..
Ouch...is all...

"Heyyyyyy," Bob said, smiling his usual bright smile, not looking as if he'd suffered at all up that hill even though he'd ran nearly 13 miles the day before. "Ready for Nichols?"

I grimaced back, hoping it would be interpreted as a smile. "I'm going to skip Nichols Canyon," I panted. "You boys go ahead and I'll wait for you here."

"No. You're going down it and back up it." Bob smiled again, just as brightly as he had before.

Bob, whom I have gotten to know over the last year, love and respect and am so grateful to have as a friend and loyal riding buddy, has yet to deal with my nasty, Irish temper. I'm not sure I will ever unleash it on him, because he is just too easy-going and mellow to bring it out of me. But standing on Mulholland with him and Fred staring at me expectantly, I felt my blood beginning to boil. It was "quit there and ride home to lick my wounds" or "HTFU and STFU and ride your damn bike." Which do you think I did?

Nichols Canyon, by the way, is lovely. It goes way, way down to Hollywood Blvd. at the bottom. We stopped just before that, turned around and began the climb back up. It was here that the sniveling sad sack disappeared. I can't say my inner cyclist appeared (she didn't) but I do believe I got her attention long enough to get her to turn off the Xbox.

Nichols Canyon...

Can you spot Bob? (snicker)...

there he is!...

At the top of Nichols is a very steep section to climb (note here, the road is not called Nichols at the top, but I can't remember the name). I tacked it mostly but didn't necessarily suffer, and the best part is that I wasn't that far behind the men. This helped me regain my composure.

"I loved that canyon, thank you, Fred!"

"Oh, you're welcome," he replied. "It's a good one."

"Have you ever ridden Stunt Road?" I asked him. Leave it to me to throw out a tough ride I've ridden to somehow divert attention from my lackadaisical efforts! I can only imagine that Bob had to have snickered at this, but I never turned to see.

The rest of our journey was on Mulholland. If you've not ridden that, you should (assuming you ride). It's so beautiful up there, and yesterday in particular, the skies were amazing. Lots of riders were up there, including the La Grange crowd. Many of those riders are courteous and fantastic, but some are a-holes! I saw a huge group completely fly through a red light that they should not have. And they did it brazenly!

There was a "La-hooser" moment when I pulled up to the stoplight at Laurel Canyon. Bob and Fred had already crossed and were waiting on me when I stopped behind a very nice group of male cyclists (not sure if they were La Grange or not). As the light turned yellow on the other side, I pulled over into the right hand turn lane to take off immediately when the light changed to green so as to pull to the right of the male cyclists. The light never turned green, so I stopped, confused, in the turn lane.

As luck would have it, a car pulled up and honked at me to move out of the turn lane. So, I moved to the left to let the car turn. Then, a motorist in an SUV turning left on Mulholland scolded me ("Duh! That's a turn lane, you know?"). I stood there with a group of men on my left and two men waiting on me (and witnessing all of this) embarrassed.

"Hey, guys?" I asked the group of cyclists. "Doesn't this light turn green for us?"

"Did you push the button?" was the reply I received.

I had to laugh at this. Any other time, I'd likely have lost my temper, but not yesterday. I already felt like such a loser for my pitiful efforts and making the men wait. Here I was, stopped at a red light, half-way in the turn lane, being honked at, scolded and spoken to as if I was just downright dense - when in fact, those dumbasses were there a good 15-20 seconds before I was! Why the hell didn't one of them push the button?! (smacking forehead)

the valley beneath those skies from heaven...

more climbing on Mulholland...

final stretch back...

Humor is a panacea for sure - and yesterday, I finally got my attitude in check by simply laughing at it all. It's just a ride, for God's sake! - and a good one at that! I was dying on the last few miles back. Fred had to bid us farewell early (look forward to riding with that sweet man again), but Bob and I finished the route in its entirety. My legs are still shot today! I hiked (yes, again) this morning and could feel the climbing punishment left in them. Secretly, I dug it. After all, I need it!

Next week, rain is in the forecast. Bob has already managed my expectations but encouraging me to ride my trainer if we can't ride outdoors. Lucky am I to have such a good (and patient) friend to rely on in the next few months. I know myself well and this weekend's melodrama will likely be repeated at least one more time this year. That's okay. As long as I keep working toward that ride up Baldy, the rest will come. I must just remember to keep laughing at it all between now and then.

think of the beer

2012-01-08T16:59:00.000-08:00

Slothhood is officially over, I'm happy to report. It took to the end of the first week of January to do it, but at least I'm in under the wire (some folks still have their holiday lights up in their yards and around their houses and continue turning them on at night; so I figure I, too, am in the "ushering in the New Year with all its many promises" transition). Whatever...yesterday, I rode my first real ride of 2012 with Bob after not riding anything over 40 miles in nearly a month.

We were thinking of riding the Santa Clarita route that Bob has mapped, the ride that is fast becoming a myth given that we keep postponing it. I'm sure it's really there and eventually we'll get to it. But where Bob lives (Swankville) high winds are a daily occurrence. Riding in them from his driveway to Santa Clarita would just be sadomasochistic torture. Thus, the postponement. That's okay. Yesterday, Bob came up with an idea for another route, one just as good.

We rode the Simi Ride in reverse. From his house and back (with a trek around Westlake Lake), the route is 63 miles with 3,500 feet of climbing going the regular direction. In reverse (minus the trek around the lake), is 57 miles with 3,100 ft of climbing. I prefer the reverse now that I've ridden it, although it could be argued that it's a tad harder given that one must climb Santa Susana Pass from Simi Vally at mile 50ish. And, really...who the hell wants to do that?

my fearless leader...

and in profile...

But I should back track here and state that I was expecting only 47 - 50 miles when we took off yesterday morning. For starters, I was late arriving (not a good way to start the New Year - bad manners!). Then, I kept stalling. Bob saw right through it.

"If you want, we have a bail out," He said to me as I put my arm warmers on and squinted at him through the morning sun. "We can ride to the lake, around it and back the same way; an out and back instead of a loop. But this is only if..."

"Yeah, let's do that." I grinned, grateful to have been given an out.

"If you want. Or we can ride the whole route, which means we'll be climbing Santa Susana Pass at the end of the ride, around mile 50ish."

"Let's just do the lake, but we should ride around it twice to get at least 50 miles." That was perfectly sound reasoning to me. If we could just get 50 miles, I wouldn't be slacking.

Lucky for us, there was no wind in the morning. It was teeth chattering cold, though. I had not worn a base layer and really should have. Bob was doubled layered and wore his jacket. But the sun was out in all her glory, so we both figured it would warm dramatically as the day continued.

it's so much colder than it looks, not that I'm complaining...

on Valley Circle...

The Simi Ride in reverse is pretty simple -

-Valley Circle Blvd.
- Calabasas Rd.
- Mureau Rd.
- Las Virgenes
- Agoura Rd.
- Lindero Cyn
- Kanan Rd.
-Westlake Blvd.
- Avenida de los Aboles
- Erbes Rd.
- E. Olsen Rd.
- Madera Rd.
- Royal Ave.
- Tapo Cyn
- E Los Angeles Ave.
- Santa Susana Pass

From Swankville and back (to Valley Circle) adds an additional 10ish miles. It's a perfect route given that it has mostly wide roads, pretty views, equally distributed climbs and is mostly downhill/flat back to Bob's driveway; which means that if you have to limp it home, you can. I am a fan and told Bob that we must keep this route as a good training ride.

Back to yesterday morning, however, I was looking forward to our "bail out" option; turning around after a loop or two around the lake and heading back, skipping Simi Valley and Santa Susana. Even Bob seemed sold.

"I'm taking us the long way to Valley Circle," he confided. "So that we miss one of the hills."

Given my shape of late (out-of), that was music to my ears. Good ol' Bob! He was in my corner and I felt I could breath a sigh of lazy relief.

Cue the screeching-to-a-halt sound effect...

We did just great riding out over Valley Circle. Our pace was neither impressive nor disappointing. For two cyclists who'd taken it real real easy over the holidays, we were actually holding our own. Bob seemed just fine, truthfully, although he sandbagged the hell out of it, claiming his legs were a little sore. I sure couldn't tell he was hurting any when we hit the hills.

as you can see, anything even slightly up, and I'm dropped...

on Mureau - the easy way to do it!...

I wasn't hurting either but I had zero climbing legs. They'd been left back in the second week of December when I last rode up Stunt with GT. What I had yesterday were tree logs. Which, I never knew logs could pedal so well on the downhills and flats! But trying to drag them (and them you) uphill is another story. I slogged it up every hill and even insisted to Bob that it might be faster if I slid up the hills on my stomach, dragging my bike behind me. (He just shook his head at me.)

By the time we'd reached Agoura, the both of us were warmed up and settled into our different routines for the day. Bob was content to feign difficulty while I continued faking ease. We were perfectly matched for the most part and very much in tune with each others' needs for a break from time to time (although we never took a substantial one or really ate all that much for the effort we exerted). I was giddy as usual, thrilled to be back on the bike. I know the work I've got ahead of me, but really, I can only take it pedal stroke at a time. Being out under gorgeous blue skies with such a great riding buddy was all I could wish for - the rest (my fitness shape) will return in the coming months.

many of the roads had nice, wide bike lanes...

heading to Agoura...

At Westlake Blvd., Bob pulled me to the side of the road. "Okay, here are our options," he said, with his hand out commanding the air in front of him for effect. "We can turn around and go back, all the way back over the rollers and Mureau [the hard way]. Or...we could keep going and just do the ride we planned. Your thoughts?"

"Um...well, I'll keep going, but isn't there just as much climbing this way?" I pointed to Westlake Blvd. and beyond into the horizon.

"Not really," Bob insisted. "We just have a little bit on Madeira but it's pretty much all downhill until we reach Santa Susana Pass."

Now, I have no reason not to believe Bob when he describes a route since, unlike me, he generally doesn't (unabashedly) lie about the challenges that awaits you in the miles ahead. And, honestly, I don't think he did lie yesterday. I just think he forgot. You see, there is a shitload of climbing before one ever reaches Santa Susana Pass on the reverse Simi Ride route. Please take note of this should you decide to run out and pedal it anytime soon. In particular, Westlake is up, so is Erbs (way up), as well as Madeira, and there is some climbing on Olsen if I recall correctly. Of course, by the time I realized that I'd either been hoodwinked or led by the blind, it was too late. Plus, when you have someone as sweet and humorous as Bob riding alongside your wheel (or way in front of it), you kinda just have to roll with it.

we passed the real Simi Ride with the real Simi Riders...

Yeah, Erbs was all downhill...

not..

"I forgot Erbs had this much climbing," he confessed.

"Uh, huh."

"No, really, I'm dying." He said this as he dropped me like a badly microwaved potato and flew up it. Nope, ringing in the new year did not change one thing!

I kid, of course, and truth be known, by mile 40, I was flying high. Gotta love them endorphins. I am also back in the training frame of mind. I'm looking for a solid goal this year to really push me, but for now, the looking for a goal is all the goal I need. Bring it!

yes, I was there...

heading to the Pass...

Then we hit mile 45, out on Royal Ave., a rather dumpy little street in Simi. I'm not criticizing the route - Royal is safer than Los Angeles Ave. in the afternoon. It is not shorter, though, and just seems to go on forever with rushed motorists passing within inches. I needed a break. So did Bob. In fact, he's like the Energizer Bunny who just keeps on going until...he just doesn't. At mile 45, I could see the power fading, the humor dissipating.

"This ride is tough," he admitted.

"It won't be in two months by the second or third time we've ridden it, Bob. We're both just out of riding shape, me more than you."

"True. But I think we may have ridden more than we really should have."

"You're just tired," I promised. I then knew that no matter how much Santa Susana hurt, I had to go up and over it with a smile on my face. Bob's still pretty new to cycling. He's not yet ridden the kind of epic ride I know he has in him. He's not yet truly suffered and worried that he won't make it one more mile. Last thing I want is for him to get discouraged or uninterested in the sport, so keeping a game face (and attitude) was critical in my mind yesterday.

our last climb home...

someone waited for me at Box Canyon...

At Santa Susana, I cheered us on. "Just one more climb, Bob! Then we're home free as it really is downhill from the top of the pass and just five miles home! You know this hill - we just rode it two weeks ago." I think I was drooling from grinning so hard.

Bob didn't look convinced one bit.

I decided to try something else. "Get to the top of this fucking climb and it's all downhill with an ice cold beer waiting on us! Think of the beer as you're climbing it, Bob! - think of the BEER!"

Never underestimate a man when it comes to beer. Bob was on his bike and dropping me (sigh...like a...) as soon as we hit the steeper grade. I had to laugh. I mean, really, that was too easy and something I'll have to remember in the future. I tried to follow my own advice and think of the beer, but instead my mind wandered. I pedaled at a snail's pace, in my granny-panties (my new silly term for granny-gear) and kept grinning goofy. I love cycling...love it. Yesterday, at mile 50ish, suffering up that canyon, I could not have been happier.

leaving Simi Valley...

going down the other side to Swankville...

at this point, I could already smell the barn...

Bob waited for me at Box Canyon, and the two of us knocked the rest out without any issue at all. I forgot to mention that the winds had picked up while we were on Tapo Canyon, and they just grew worse on our final stint home. It made us both madder than hell to have to fight head winds when we should have just floated back to the barn, but it made the beer taste all the better! And, yes, they were ice cold and well deserved.

I'm so excited to have a good ride on my legs and looking forward to the year to come. I owe Bob big time as he really kept me motivated yesterday. He also got us to continue ahead, get the job done and not bail. We both had it in us, and I don't think for one minute that we rode more than we should have. Sometimes getting your ass handed to you is the fastest way to improve.

As for today, my legs were even heavier logs, so I just spun them out on a nothing of a ride. It was so pretty out and a chance to use my camera one last time. Yup...another one bites the dust. It's so beat up, banged, cracked and nonfunctional, it's a wonder I got it to turn on at all today. I'm gonna hate having to walk up to the sales counter at my local Best Buy this week. Those smug bastards know me by name by now and will be oh-so-happy to sell me yet another camera to destroy. I should buy stock in that company...

make the best of 2012

2012-01-02T09:01:00.000-08:00

It's January 2, 2012, and today still has the brand-new-year smell all over it. Too bad I can't sniff it this morning cause of a stupid, nasty (and rather stubborn) head cold. I spent the last two days of 2011 on the verge of full snothood, and finally, last night (11pm, when I woke up wheezing and coughing, to be exact) it overtook me. This said, I did not and will not ride my bike today. I (gulp) cancelled on Bob.

First, I sent him a text message all full of self pity and then I called him. He's got no reason to think I'd lie to him about not feeling well enough to ride, but I still wanted him to hear my stuffed-up "sick" voice to prove it. I got a "feel better," "don't worry, we have lots of days to ride this year," and "now, go watch the entire Rose Parade from start to finish," from him. It was the suggestion that I watch the parade that made me laugh. He's a funny man, that Bob, he's got jokes. Truth be known, I hated to cancel and was tempted to swallow a few Dayquil's and go riding, pushing myself to the brink.

However, since this is a shiny brand new year, I must start it with my shiny brand new ~~resolutions~~ ~~goals~~ aspirations/dogma. I'm determined to listen to my body and mind this year, and not just jump every time someone whistles. This is a major fault of mine and comes from a very deep-seated loneliness and fear that if I don't please others, they won't like me. Typically, I comply, tail wagging, and then end up resenting the other person(s) when I'm not happy with the outcome. I conveniently forget that it is I who responds/joins at times without thinking the situation through entirely.

There have been way too many examples of this in my life, times when I agree to do something too hastily, commit too quickly. I'm going to practice using regard and judgment this year. Today, I done good. I woke up feeling like shit, and instead of forcing myself to pull it together only to later feel like worse shit, I pulled the plug on attending. I'm not happy about not riding today (miserably sad, actually) but I'm not doing myself or anyone else (Bob) any favors by joining either. So far...I'm proud to report that I've kept at least one New Year's aspiration!!

got to futzing around with Linda's 2012 glasses...
she gave them to me & I see more photos in the coming months...

bring it...

I've got a couple more aspirations that I will share in case anyone is interested, but first I'd like it noted that I did ride yesterday - the first day of the year. I rode with the girls, and we did nothing more than pedal lazily to the ocean for brunch and back. I was coughing consistently throughout, but they and I assumed it was my stupid asthma. We've had phenomenal weather out here in Southern California for the last five days with it warming a tad more each day, almost to summer-like conditions. With weather fluctuations comes breathing issues (for me), but this time, it was a cold and not just my pitiful lungs. Had I listened to my body, I'd have known as far back as Friday that I was getting sick. Hindsight is never over rated!

love thse girls - it's become our tradition to ride on NY Day...

sigh...So Cal winter weather...

so many bikes everywhere...love it!...

I don't have much to report on about our New Year's Day ride other than it was (as usual) very enjoyable. I took lots of photos (of course) and mostly just pedaled along a little ahead of the girls, thinking through last year and imagining the year ahead of us. 2011, unlike 2010, was a good year that brought me new (wonderful) friends and reconnected me with some old ones. It lacked any real nasty drama, and other than my two asthma attacks in the early months, I was pretty healthy. I got to go home in July to see my entire family (including all my cousins and such). I also got to bring sis out for a visit this past December. I still have my job, a roof over my head and a little dragon to love. My fitness and health has improved, although not to the level I'd like, but any improvement is, well....improvement!

Speaking of health and fitness, aspiration number two is all about that. In 2012, I will no longer be using words such as "diet," "plan," and "lose." My new jargon is "fitness," "intention," and "health." I will outright ignore anyone who wishes to engage me in any discussion about their diet plans (Weight Watchers, MyPlate, Myfitnesspal.com, Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, South Beach, Insanity, etc.) and how they want to lose, will lose, have lost weight. I'm not talking about it on any social network (or on here) except to report my activities (cycling being number one, certainly).

never gets old to me...

the path stayed fairly uncrowded most of the day...

winter wear in So Cal...

I'm simply going to throw spandex on and move my body any and every chance I get (except when sick). I'm going to eat healthy and make smart choices. I am not drinking Sunday night through Thursday (no happy hours with friends), nor am I drinking the night before a bike ride - and beer is only allowed if I've ridden my bike for three+ hours or more! I plan to ride my bike every Saturday and Sunday I can, unless I'm hiking or spending time with friends/loved ones. I also plan to get my running (on a treadmill or track) up to 30-45 mins twice a week; and preferably, one hour at least once a week (this will be determined by how the knees hold up).

In no particular order, I intend to ride and or hike all of the following:

1. Mount Baldy - by bike (at least four times as I miss that mountain terribly) and by foot (once)
2. Big T/Little T/Angeles Crest - I've been away from those canyons for far too long as well
3. At least six century rides with one being in Big Bear
4. Latigo (just silly that I haven't been up that for over a year!)
5. Various local hikes that I've not done in way too long
6. Maybe the MS150...maybe
7. All of the above if the universe aligns - and if not, I'm okay with that

I do not plan to increase/intensify my efforts to ride dirt. I've decided with no shame whatsoever that I flat out suck at mountain biking. This does not mean that I won't be on my knobbies or out on fire roads, but single tracks and a foray into more skilled riding is over. After last year's clinic/demo , I learned that not only is it really shrewd to be scared of something that you suck at, but it's even smarter to stop doing it for fear of injury. To put it in perspective, I won't be riding BMX or cycle-cross either. And...I'm okay with that.

I think these two were pacing Linda...

this is how I felt after brunch...

With all the fitness/health comes an aspiration that I admit will be difficult for me to keep. I must exercise my mind this year. I'm terribly lazy with this and didn't read so much as one book all the way through last year (I started Girl with the Dragon Tattoo but bored quickly). Therefore, I am determined to choose one book per month to read. I have a month in which to read it. I already have a book selected for January, a short one (and one that Bob's lovely better half loaned me). From there, I'll have to consider what will be read next. I may even buy a Kindle (trying to save the trees and all).

Then, I'd like to take a class to learn sign-language (to sign well and fluently), a class to learn Spanish (conversationally) and possibly a writing class or photography class. I love to write and take photos, but if you've read this blog, you will know that I need some improvement on both efforts. Each one excites and inspires me, so why not?

happiness...

Lastly, I am determined to volunteer at least twice within each six months (so, four times) at a minimum. I may head back to the LA Food Bank, truthfully. Rats aside, I liked the experience and felt a sense of humility and dignity helping out the community at large. I may also volunteer at a smaller shelter in my neighborhood, perhaps one that I can ride my bike to. I find it very rewarding to give back to others less fortunate through my efforts (giving money certainly helps, but I have more time on my hands than I do cash!). And with today's economy, those less fortunate are growing in numbers.

So, those are my 2012 aspirations, none I haven't made before (as resolutions quickly broken/forgotten). The difference this year is that I'm older, somewhat wiser and a hell of a lot less worried about it all. I hope to achieve what I've written here and stick to it, but I'm not getting all bent out of shape if I slip up. Each year is a work in progress and a blessing. I'm truly happy to be alive in 2012. Since we all have until December 21st (that's when the world is purported to end), we might as well make the best of the next 11.5 months! Hmmm...maybe I'll lump all my aspirations into just this one - Make the Best of 2012. Yeah, I like that and you know what? I think I can keep it.

"you've NEVER seen the Rose Parade?"

2011-12-31T09:14:00.000-08:00

When I was little girl, I remember all of maybe two parades that my mother took J.T. and me to. Neither was very long (an hour and a half tops) but both were beyond boring. I was more a County Fair kind of girl, where I could enjoy many attractions like the Ferris Wheel, the Fun House and Petting Zoo. The parades, as I recall, had no activities, let alone fun ones. It was just "sit and stare," "ooh and ah," "clap hands" and sweat (these parades took place right smack in the armpit of summer).

example of the kind of float I'm accustomed to...

The parade floats back then (and in the small southern town where we lived) were not fancy in the least, just rolling houses without walls, windows or roofs, carrying various props to simulate some scene or another (imagine a 1950s soda counter with costumed "actors" standing behind it pretending to pour root beer and waving at the crowd as the float they were standing on rolled by). Most of the floats' edges were covered in flowers and some of them blasted music from them old school boom boxes. That was it. No huge, 300 foot tall, monstrous plaster creations covered in dyed multicolored nuts, grass, corn husks, seeds, vegetables, leaves, pine cones, flowers, etc. (phew!) Floats back then were motorized theatre sets and nothing more.

Apparently, I missed the "float" when it comes to appreciating the whole parade thing - well, at least according to one Canadian parade freak, that is (I will get to her in a minute). See, out here in So Cal (Pasadena, to be specific), we got this behemoth spectacle called the Rose Parade. I'm sure you've heard of it - maybe even seen it? It's a far cry from the simple little parades of my youth, which is not to say that it isn't still boring as hell...to me.

Generally, I try to avoid the Rose Parade at all costs, but over the years, some friend or relative has had it on his/her television screen in the background of a New Year's Day celebration. Yes, I've seen bits and pieces of the damn thing. No, I don't find it interesting, fascinating, cool, fun to watch, artsy, amazing, culturally stimulating, exciting (really????) or worth all the fuss some folks like to make over it. If you are one of those folks, I don't mean to criticize. Everyone likes different activities/sports/pastimes, and certainly, I am not one to throw stones (e.g., when I had cable TV, I loved to watch infomercials). But while those floats are rolling along on January 1st, I will be out rolling on my bike anywhere but near it (actually, this year it lands on the 2nd because Pasadena does not wish to insult the church-going Christians). The parade and I will coexist peacefully yet apart, just as we have for the past 21 years I've lived on the west coast.

So, why, you might ask, would I agree to volunteer with my friends to decorate a Rose Parade float? And why would I agree to do this for seven hours? I don't have an answer to either question except that I was distracted when the girls asked me to join, and didn't read Linda's email closely. I love Linda and Debbie, and spending time with them is generally a fun ordeal. It's almost always social, so without reading the fine print and imagining an evening so unlike the one I ended up with last night, I jumped on board.

I was promised dinner (I imagined warm pizza slices but instead got a stale turkey sandwich & bag of chips) and a chance to decorate with my friends (we were separated) some magically themed float (I must admit that our float was cool-ish since it had dinosaurs on it). I figured I'd be painting or gluing flowers on to something solid. I like to paint and flowers smell nice, plus, did I mention? - I love Linda and Debbie. Thus, I agreed to volunteer. Hindsight is 20/20...at the very least, I should have driven myself and not carpooled. Then, my evening might have been salvaged. As it is, I can honestly report that not only do I hate the stupid Rose Parade, but I now despise the stupid decorating debacle as well.

For starters, they wanted us there a half hour to an hour prior to our "shift." Seeing as how we got there (right at 4pm when our shift started) and stood around on concrete floors for close to two hours doing nothing in a warehouse that went from hot and stuffy to freezing cold, I'm not sure why they needed us there earlier. Lucky for everyone that we arrived late, or I'm certain I'd have lost my temper. I tried, instead and unsuccessfully, to remain upbeat and positive. After an hour and a half, I told the girls that I was going for a walk. I proceeded to walk a mile around the area, stopping at a Pet Co to check out their bearded dragons (thankfully, they had none cramped into those awful pet store vivs). I got a call from Linda that dinner was being served, so I walked back. Dinner sucked (not meaning to be ungrateful, but had I known....).

the one and only part of the experience I enjoyed - the flower room!

After dinner, I was given a job. At first I was delighted. At least I'd have something to do other than walking around Pasadena by myself! That delight dwindled within minutes of meeting "her." I don't remember this woman's name, but she's Canadian. I normally like Canadians, got no beef with them, but this one could move back now, please, and open up space for another, kinder, more agreeable one to enter our country. This one (I'll call her Cybil, a good Canadian girl name) was in need of some manners and perhaps a sense of humor that didn't involve laughing at her own insults.

Cybil is an older lady, perhaps 15 years my senior, and not at all attractive, which was due to her abrupt personality more than anything else. She is certainly nondescript. In fact, if you asked me to pick her out of the Rose-Parade-watching crowd on Monday, I couldn't do it. All I remember of her is grey hair, grey face, grey eyes and grey teeth. Not meaning to sound cruel, but she was like one large, grey rain cloud...hanging over my parade.

"This is how you do this," Cybil immediately informed me as I climbed up and sat on the base of the float by a set of steps and columns. "You get a good square, not an uneven one...gotta look real close and make sure it's even. Then glue the area first..." she pointed at the step emphatically. "Do NOT glue the square first. Do NOT put too much glue on the step, and you must make these look like real bricks." She then pursed her lips and widened her eyes.

I held up a yellow, wispy, so not-like-a-brick square. "What is this exactly?"

"Corn husk!" She replied in a duh!-dumbass! tone. "NO! I said glue the step first. Were you listening?" She then laughed, as if that was funny.

"Um...perhaps I should move farther up the steps to work on the columns..."

"NO! I need you to cut these..." she insisted while dumping a pile of corn husks between my crossed legs. "And cut them straight. Go look at the other side over there..." to which she pointed, "and cut them like they did, straight, and make them match. What's your name?"

I told her my name and that I was there because my friend (and CFO of the company sponsoring the float we were decorating) had asked me to join. I was hoping this would make her my ally and willing to treat me with a little less piss and vinegar. After all, I'm not used to such authority from a fellow volunteer on the top of a float. I'm also not accustomed to folks telling me what to do without so much as one please.

"You're still doing it wrong," she critiqued. "Just put glue on the step and I'll put the squares on."

I scowled at her, remained silent and did nothing.

She decided to try a different tactic. "You know? You are working on one of the floats for the Rose Parade. When you're watching it on Monday, you can actually tell your family that you touched this float."

"I won't be watching the parade on Monday," I replied back as even-toned as I could. "I never watch it and I've never seen it other than..."

"You've NEVER seen the Rose Parade?" Her jaw dropped and I'm pretty sure she gasped although it came out sounding more like a grunt. "How is that possible? How can you not have? Everyone watches the Rose Parade."

I just stared at her.

"Honey!" She slapped the arm of the teenager sitting behind her. "She's NEVER seen the Rose Parade." The boy's jaw dropped and he looked at me like I had just urinated on the float.

"He must be your son?" I figured a change in topic might be prudent.

"Yes, he's my son." She attempted a smile. "NEVER?!! How is that possible?" Then she looked at me like I had just urinated on the float.

The universe suddenly intervened. One of the float designing company employees walked up, a woman who was as equally unpleasant as the Canadian (in her defense, she'd been there for over 14 hours straight). "I don't like what I see here," she said to Cybil. "These are all wrong and should have been glued folded over. They need to look like real bricks."

Cybil looked devastated and turned in my direction. "I didn't glue these ones," she said while staring at me with lips pursed and eyes widened.

"Well, you need to re-do them." With that, that employee vanished and another, a man, appeared.

I saw my escape route. "Sir?!" I practically screamed to get his attention. He and Cybil both looked at me...as if I'd just urinated on the float. "How should I glue the corn husks...er...bricks onto the columns?"

"Doesn't matter how as long as you keep the husks lined up in the same direction," he replied.

"But don't they need to look like real bricks? And isn't there some technique to follow?"

"No, just line them up in the same direction, cover the column and make sure they stick." With that, he vanished.

I scurried up the steps to the columns, praying Cybil would mind her own business before I completely lost it and glued her head to the float. It was here that another volunteer, Mary, joined me. She, unlike Cybil, was very pleasant and clearly as "over it" as I was at that point.

"Do you know how to glue these...???"

"Corn husks." I smiled wearily.

"Oh...how do we glue them to the column?" she asked me.

I told her verbatim what the male employee had instructed me to do, and we set off gluing the corn husks to the float. For a good seven minutes, I was relieved to be left to nothing but the task at hand with a normal person sitting next to me. The glue was horrific and stuck to everything, but at at least I wasn't being harassed by some parade freak. I should have known, however, that this peace would not last.

"I need you back down here to redo the squares you started," came the demand.

I turned to Cybil slowly. "I'm working on the columns."

She shrugged. "The two volunteers before you were doing a better job. We really need to get them back." (who the hell was "we" - ???!!!) She then laughed and turned to her son, who then laughed.

I admit it...I wanted to kill Cybil. I also wanted to be anywhere but in that fucking warehouse working on a float for a parade that, obviously, I'm the two-headed freak for not watching. By the way? - I can live with two heads.

Again, the universe intervened. "I don't like what I see here," came the voice from below. The female employee with all her lackluster charm had returned. "They don't look like real bricks and you should have started from behind the column and overlapped each one. Take them all off and start over."

I could see Cybil trying to suppress a laugh and turned to Mary. "I'm out of here. Sorry. I really hate to abandon you but this shit ain't for me...excuse my French." With that, I slid back down and off the float. I heard Mary say "No problem, I'll be right behind you..." as I walked away. I'm also pretty sure I heard Cybil ask "You're just going to leave like that? Just leave?" but I never looked back to confirm it nor to answer her. I had my backpack on and was out the door within two minutes.

I'm sure this float is going to look amazing in the parade,
for those of you who plan to watch it...

The rest of my evening? I walked around Pasadena for a good hour or so. I figure I got close to five miles of walking in. I was cold, miserable and wanted to go home (and I am definitely coming down with something today, although I can't blame the Rose Parade ordeal for it). I considered calling a taxi, but I knew it would be a good $50-$60 fare from Pasadena to Sherman Oaks (I've taken a cab from the Burbank airport home, and that cost $35!). I looked up buses, but it would have been a two-hour trip and a lot of bus changes. So, I just stuck it out wishing the hell I'd never agreed to go in the first place - or, at the very least, driven myself. Lesson learned.

I still love Linda and Debbie. They got an earful but not aimed at them. I guess float decorating just isn't my thing. As for the parade itself...my two heads and I are still not impressed.

rolling ball of blubber

2011-12-28T08:46:00.000-08:00

Wow...laaa-zzzyyy- that would be me. I jokingly called myself a "rolling ball of blubber" recently, to which my sweet friends tsk - tsked me (I'm no longer allowed to say I'm pudgy or chubby or lard assed or fat or...). Well...um..."rolling ball of blubber" isn't exactly off the mark. I'm not picking on myself either. I have well-earned that description by eating too much and exercising too little in the last two.75 weeks. (By the way, my laptop is sitting on top of my belly as I type this, in case you'd like a visual.)

All of that aside, it's been a good two weeks thus far (and counting). Where I work, we get nearly two weeks off each year around Christmas. This year, due to the odd timing of the holidays (all falling on weekends), we get nearly three. Glorious, I tell ya! I could get use to not working (sadly, I nor any other Californian won that $206M lotto jackpot last night). I love having my mornings to myself and being able to play. Unfortunately, due to all that playing and various social plans, my riding has been pitiful, but I have ridden (will get to the momentarily). The biggest and best part about being off of work this holiday season is that I got to bring J.T. out for a visit. Nothing like having the sis around for a few days to brighten up this town for me.

On Venice Beach boardwalk picking out sunglasses...

isn't she darling (and game)?...

J.T. has been out here before but it's been a long time. She'd not seen my current apartment (the one that is directly across the hall from my old one that I moved back into after my landlord-from-hell nightmare last year). She oohed-and-ahhed over it and made it seem all shiny brand new in my eyes again. She also gave me a long back scratch (heaven!) and watched some good scary flicks with me. We bummed around on the beach (pictures below), hiked in Griffith Park, ate well (but surprisingly not too much), visited as many friends as I could cram in (but missed a couple, sadly, cause I over-booked her and wore her out), and just had a good time of it for close to five days.

favorite pic of this beautiful woman (my sis!)...

second favorite...

so many surf shots that day (perfect weather)...

I didn't time this!...

my favorite shot of the day...

it's as if I ordered this ocean and surf just for J.T.!...

yes, I was there...

I wish I could transport her out here permanently, but she's a southerner for sure (unlike me, who's only southern when I'm a) uber-tired; b) uber-drunk or c) uber-pissed). She needs her seasons like I need my mountain roads and coastal breezes. Someday, somebody is going to have to compromise, and I suspect that somebody will be me. But for now, I stay in the desert, she stays (near) the farms, and we've agreed that she will simply fly the friendly skies on out here each Christmas, while I jet it back to Fried Chicken Land every July. Sounds like a plan to me!

No, I didn't ride while J.T. was in town. I didn't ride the two days after she left either, cause I was working at the LA Food Bank (mission) for two days. Great experience except for some run-ins with some rats. I got no issues with rats. Those little animals just want to live like we do and, go figure, we are in their territory just as much as they are in ours. Why folks have to scream and jump up and down over a rodent is beyond me. But that is what grown women and men did while I was at that mission.

You'd have thought a great white shark had swum up beneath them and bitten their fool legs off. I, on the other hand (yes, I'm going gloat here), picked up a litter of (newborn) baby rats (with gloves on) while everyone screamed, "ewwww"'d and looked at me like I had five heads. I begged the food bank worker who then took the litter from me to kill them humanely if he just had to do so. He promised to just throw them in the trash (which, of course, meant no chance of survival since they were so young). Broke my heart.

Then, another rat was killed in front of everyone (by a volunteer, I believe) just cause it came out from under a crate. That was when I saw grown men screaming like little girls and jumping up on tables and conveyor belts. MEN...not just one, but several! By the way, I want it noted that men screaming over rats or spiders is just not sexy. I can understand lions, tigers and bears, but a rat??? (sigh) The rest of the time there (minus the rats) was fulfilling and eye opening. It's amazing what people donate (KY lube, by the way, might not be the first item requested on the list for the needy).

This was all before Christmas. On Christmas Eve day, I rode Nellie with a backpack (doing errands, mostly) and then attended a party that night. Stupid me saved all my calories (rode and then didn't eat) until the party. Then, I ate (not massively) and drank (never you mind). I made a fool of myself and hit on everyone within "hitting on" distance. A sweet gal drove me home and my sweet friends forgave me. I rode Patsy back over to pick up my car the next day (and punished myself royally). Never has 14 miles seemed so long. Hey, I deserved it! Let's just say that on Christmas Day, I kept the drinking to a bare minimum. I had too since I had a ride planned for Monday.

my fearless (and favorite) ride leader...

oh, look at Bob suffering right on up the pass!...

Bob had mapped a fantastic route from his place to Santa Clarita, part on a bike path after climbing a near 2k feet to reach it, up over Sierra Highway and back over some nasty rollers. It is a very difficult route...on paper. I have no clue how hard it is on bike, cause we didn't ride it on Monday. Instead, we decided to do the Simi Ride over Santa Susana Pass.

he waited (out of pity, I'm sure)...

alone on the canyon...that's okay - the beauty kept me company!...

random bike path in Simi - loved it!! Not conducive to fast riding, I must admit....

Bob showing me his new yoga stretches (snicker)...

That damn near killed me. Bob tried to convince me that it damn near killed him too, but I know he was lying through his teeth. He went right up and over it just as fast as he always has. Tim joined us half way, and he too sandbagged past me and dropped me like a badly microwaved (overly abundant) potato. I suffered up it while thinking through my New Year's Resolutions for 2012 that I'm not making (they will be "goals" instead).

hope to ride up Mt. Baldy with this sweet friend
and riding partner next year! He made my rides in 2011 fun and safe...

back up the pass we go...

yippee! Tim joined, just in time to suffer...

It was perfect weather outside. We've been beyond lucky this year, and I'm hoping the streak continues through this weekend and January 2nd. I got rides planned from Friday through Monday, and I may ride tomorrow if my lunch plans become dinner plans. Yippee!! I need to get the fitness back up and running as I do have a couple of ride goals on tap - Mt. Baldy (for damn sure as it's now just been stupidly too long) and (possibly) The Ride around the Bear.

cousins...

...and great company on my ride!...

I told Bob I'd ride it with him and another fella in June. That gives me six months to train and something to train for, which I badly need. Can't wait!! I might even be able to talk GT into joining as well. I know his and my buddy, Kurt, will do it. He rode it last year in like five hours or something ridiculous. I'm not aiming for that timing - I'd just like to finish. No, I take that back...I'd just like to commit to starting the ride!

this inspires me for the new year...may it inspire you!...

Hope everyone's holiday has been a good one thus far. 2012 is right around the corner, so enjoy what's left of this gone-by-too-fast year!l

I can't describe my joy

2011-12-11T18:24:00.000-08:00

I was teased recently about not blogging so much lately. True. I've had (gasp) two two-week hiatuses from blabbing away on here. I'm not shutting this blog down anytime soon (although, perhaps, one could argue that I should for myriad reasons). I've just been busy and not riding as much (sniff). I'd like to provide sound excuses, but weather not permitting, feeling ill, participating in 5K events just sound lame, don't they? Yes, well, wait until I throw out the "sister is in town to visit" excuse next week.

I'm being facetious (an ass) but really the truth is that I've not been riding as much. I'm trying (trying) to turn this blog into a cycling blog and not one that is primarily just about the narcissistic chronicles of my little life. Thus, if I don't ride, I (mostly) don't write.

Well, in case you're wondering...I rode this weekend. Yippee!! I rode both days, although I worried I might not ride either. On Friday, I stayed home from work with a horrible sinus headache. I feared it was the beginning of a head cold or the hint of a far more nefarious malaise, one that's been circulating of late in the petri-dish otherwise known as my place of employment. Since sis is arriving next week, I can't get sick. I haven't taken many sick days, sooo... However, after hours of sleep and one fabulous Benadryl, I found myself in the shape to ride yesterday.

in action...

being a brat...

I rode with Bob, triathlete extraordinaire (I put that in case he reads this as a way to rib him). I planned the ride around him, actually. I made it easy and 30- miles. Why? Cause he had this 1/2 marathon to run today. I still don't get that, but considering the fact that he has been my loyal riding buddy (MFRPOAT) in the last seven months, I must cut the man some slack. Well that and he is a triathlete (and runner). So, I switched days - Saturday an "easy" ride and Sunday a "hard" one. Worked out to my benefit given the whole "sick as the dead" scare.

So, easy ride it was - from my place to Topanga and back. I love this route and, oddly, even though I knew I'd be riding many of the same roads today, I did not mind. Bob was perfectly game and his usual comedic self. I love riding with this sweet friend, which I've said many times. I certainly didn't regret switching days for him yesterday.

Bob's shadow dropped me...

on the bike path home...

yes, I was there...

We got lucky with the weather. Although chilly when taking off, it warmed up nicely enough. By the time we hit the bike path, heading back east, we were no longer shivering. He talked to me about his holiday schedule. Seems I won't be able to ride with him again until the day after Christmas. As bummed as I am about that, I completely understand. Not all of us live like nomads who have nothing to do but ride! Besides (clearing throat), it seems I won't lack for some excellent riding company in the absence of Bob.

Enter GT... Remember him? He's my good (and sorely missed) friend who suddenly had some life changing events (a heart attack and then new job that took every day from him but one) that kept him from riding for nearly a year. I've missed the hell out of him, but I understood. Sometimes, you got to do what ya got to do. Well, he's done it, and now he's getting balance back in his life. He's rediscovered his bike (never didn't have a desire to ride it!) and is back in the saddle. I'm overjoyed and beside myself. I love GT. I've known him and his wife for a good three + years, and they are my people for sure. I was saddened by his departure from rides in a way I never mentioned on here. Now, that sadness has turned into a happiness I can't describe.

a smile I've missed!...

He rode with me today, although we'd planned to ride last Saturday. Wind got in our way and the ride was aborted. This meant coffee and catch-up conversation at a Starbucks along the coast. It was then that I suggested Stunt. What the hell I was thinking is beyond me. Like I truly thought I was in the shape to ride that canyon after the last month of no major ride? I guess I like to push the boundaries that way. Sitting across from him with my soft belly bulging out over the top of my bike shorts, I should have listened to my inner naysayer ("are you fucking crazy, M.E.? You can't ride up Stunt to save your life at present. Now, go eat a Twinkie and knock this shit off.") I ignored her (and her potty mouth).

Flash forward to today, which was cold, as in freezing cold (for So Cal). We started out in the 40s, and I swear we ended in the 40s (although it was predicted to reach 57 degrees in my hood). I live in a desert that sucks. In the summer, heading west, it gets hotter. In the winter, heading west, it gets colder. Go figure. By the time we reached Stunt, it was so cold, my lips went numb. But let me not get ahead of myself...

GT met me at my place this morning, and we took off from my driveway (always a treat). We did the exact route Bob and I did yesterday (and Bob was missed today) through Encino. I offered to ride on Ventura Blvd. west to GT, but he was not sold (he's like me...we hate that stupid overcrowded boulevard). I figured why not take him the "hard way" through the many rollers in the neighborhood canyons. Turns out, I made the right choice - he loved it. GT is not one to holler or throw a ruckus (like me), but when he's excited and pleased about something, his face lights up into a smile that is infectious. He smiled a lot today (and more so for being on his bike than anything else!)

hate this f'n hill on Mulholland...

on Cold Canyon Creek Road (or something like that)...

He took each hill will determination and easily dropped me. I kept telling him that he isn't as out of shape as he thinks he is (which is true). I reminded him that the body has a memory. I give him two months (and a few outings with Bob along) to be right back where he was before. This means (sigh), I've got to whip it in shape faster so that I can (fingers crossed) somehow keep up with him and Bob. I look forward to trying as I believe they will get along great and be good motivation for one another. Men like estrogen around when out riding, but they need a little testosterone challenge from time to time too!

thank goodness he brought those newspapers!...

stopping for holiday ornaments...

ooh...reflective!...

At the Starbucks on Topanga, we took a quick break. We were warmed by the 18+ grades in the canyons and knew that our real challenge was waiting. I was nervous over that bitch of a hill on Mulholland for sure. It hurts more than Stunt. And, truthfully, I wasn't sure how I'd feel on an extended four-mile climb (something I've not done in awhile).

As GT and I hit Mulholland Highway, I felt my legs truly kick in. From that point, all the way out to the bitch hill (7-minute hill as it's called by some cyclists I know), I felt great. I was slow, of course, but steady... and strong. Just prior to hitting bitch hill, GT gave me a pep talk.

halfway up Stunt Road...

and he drops me...

"Sit up straight and smile at the base of the hill. Pedal steady and breathe in a rhythm. You'll be up it before you know it." He said all this in his Austrian accent - which makes him sound so very authoritative!

"I'm like the little engine who could...'I think I can, I think I can...."

"You can do better than that," he insisted.

"Okay...I know I can, I know I can..."

"That's it!" he hollered, and then dropped me...like a badly microwaved potato.

I watched him disappear to the top and just smiled and pedaled. Oddly (and I don't care if I sound corny), it worked. In no time, I'd crested with legs fully engaged and committed to climbing. I was ready for Stunt and excited to climb it with my sweet friend who'd not been up it in over a year.

it was so cold out there today!...

yes, I was there...

Do I need to tell you the rest? (no but I will) We climbed Stunt, the both of us steady and capable and no one whining...well, except me and only about the freezing temps. Luckily, GT scored us some newspapers to stuff in our jackets for the descent. Climbing under overcast skies was perfect, but I was praying it would be sunny at the top (did not have my prayer answered). We rode together for most of it (GT at a speed much less than normal; me at my normal waddling speed), enjoying the beauty of that canyon. No, it never ever ever ever ever gets old. I love it, know it like the back of my hand and actually dig the suffering. We took one break (for me to stretch my back) and one sorta-break to fill our water bottles near the top.

almost to the top...

At the crest, GT posed for photos. He was smiling ear-to-ear and so was I (upon seeing his reaction). I know how it feels to love cycling passionately, like a lover you cannot shake. To have a period in life when you are unable to ride for reasons beyond your control is nothing short of maddening and depressing. GT has weathered this well, but I could tell today that upon reaching the top of that unforgiving canyon, his heart was full, his legs tingling and his mind at ease. That's what cycling does for a person, by the way...just in case you don't own a bike and were looking for some motivation to purchase one.

and he did it! (no surprise to me)...

Thank goodness we had that newspaper on the descent to keep my upper body warm. My extremities, however, were screwed. I think my fingers nearly froze off my hands - braking was iffy at best! GT was well ahead but I just couldn't go any faster with my teeth chattering. I resigned to just floating down softly around each curve I'd climbed just minutes before, while enjoying luscious canyon views. I love the Santa Monica mountains. They possess a rawness to their splendor so unlike the San Gabriels, whose beauty is much more refined. That's my opinion, anyway.

At the bottom, GT was waiting, and just as I pulled up, two lean, tall cyclists appeared. One was a man and the other a woman. Both looked like pro riders to me. Turns out, the man is someone I know from Twitter (Cyclepath55, Pete Simpson), and the woman is his niece. So cool that an uncle was showing his niece the ropes. They weren't going up Stunt (yet) but had stopped to discuss it. This encounter was a treat for me, as I got to meet Pete in person (finally). He's a sweetie and clearly strong on his pedals. I look forward to riding with him...er...chasing his back wheel until he drops me someday!

Pete (Cyclepath55) out riding in the cold...

so sweet - he even let me take one of my "in the glasses" shot...

heading back on Mulholland...

GT's and my trek back was much easier, albeit somewhat colder. We stopped again at Starbucks for a warm drink and then were flying back on the bike path home (deja vu from yesterday with Bob!). Back at my place, GT and I hugged. Both of us were tired, but we finished strong. I was proud of him (and he me) for taking on a ride we both fretted over (slightly...and me more than him). I am stronger than I realize and, yes, the body does have a memory. I can't wait to do it again (and more rides!). GT is already on board (with Bob and me) for Baldy in the new year - and the Eastern Sierra century ride (something we'd planned to do this year before he took that job). I can't describe my joy to have my riding buddy back on his bike and excited for the many miles ahead.

in Balboa Park...

through the tunnel...

final stretch home...

Now, I just have to introduce GT to Bob. Then, I'll be ecstatic. Yes, they'll drop me, but what else is new? Two strong, tremendously enjoyable male friends on bikes with me is always a treat, so I'll just have to up my game, won't I? Seems to be the theme (of my riding) of late (always!). I can live with that....bring it.

it's called "fall"

2011-11-27T17:26:00.000-08:00

It was gorgeous out in So Cal this weekend, and especially today, so much so that I am feeling rather guilty about living in a state that is unlike any other. I pay the rent to do it, so perhaps I shouldn't be too smug. But while pedaling along the fresh, blue coast today, I felt greedy and gluttonous...and a tad disappointed that tomorrow will usher in another Monday just following a four-day weekend. Never a good thing.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. Quick lowdown on the last four days...

There was Thanksgiving at my friends' place. And like last year, it was a blow-out gourmet meal. Too bad Zule had to bite me in the ass (literally as well as figuratively). Through many apologies and with a red face, I had to bow out and go home early. I missed dessert, sadly, but the rest made up for it! Here are the pics from this year's offerings:

Then, on Friday, I dialed it back considerably and rode on Nellie in my hood. I wasn't up to snuff and not willing to argue with my legs or back. I kept it flat, rolling along tree-lined streets. We've got a season! It's called "fall" and it's when the leaves all change colors and fall off the trees. Perhaps you've heard of it?

Well, we don't normally get this season (certainly not like we are this year) and I, for one, am in favor of it. I just wish it would stay cool out even though it doubtfully will. This time of year, So Cal inevitably lives up to its desert reputation, turning either horribly hot and dry for a week or two (or longer); or it will start raining (like last year, when we had a frickin' monsoon for three weeks).

Saturday, I had a glorious 60+ mile ride planned with Bob. Well, actually he planned (mapped) it and it is a doozy - part bike path, part canyon climbs. I was drooling to do it, mainly cause it would offer me something new (different route) and challenging. I've made Bob promise to ride up Baldy with me in the new year. Now, Dad wants to attempt it when he comes out in March. This means, I have got to whip it back (and keep it) into shape. Bob's willing, but he doesn't like to ride in hellacious winds - which is what he had out at his house yesterday morning when he woke up.

"Too windy out this way. How about I come to you and we do a Rose Bowl Ride?" was what he texted me. Bob doesn't exaggerate, so I knew there had to be strong gusts just off his doorstep. I relented without so much as a whimper. I don't like to ride in hellacious winds either, and truthfully, I was still fighting the blah.

So, we took off my driveway, headed east in lieu of my driving to Swankville to ride north. There were no winds on this end of the valley, just cool breezes and clear blue skies. I discovered right away that my legs were not with me. Instead, I was pedaling with logs. Bob, whose legs are never not with him, didn't seem as aggressive either. Turns out, we were both wiped. He'd ran on Thursday and had been busy all day Friday hanging Christmas lights. Neither of us were all that motivated and as I chased him along Kenneth heading to Verdugo, Bob offered me an out. I know I go on and on about what a good friend and riding buddy he is, but he deserves it. He has zero ego and is very intuitive. He knew I was struggling and as much as I always tell him (in jest) to "HTFU," he rarely pulls that on me.

"Want to turn around up here, head back and have lunch?" he asked me with his sideways smile.

"Yes, please," I replied without hesitation. Let the training begin next week.

And today? I rode with the girls on the west side. Today was the prettiest of the last four days. It was supermodel gorgeous out with skies even bluer than yesterday. It was also very warm (getting up to 80 degrees along the coast) and clear for miles. I love the ocean and riding to it on the Ballona Creek Bike Path; it never gets old.

There were tons of folks out on all kinds of bikes, some on skateboards, and many just moseying along by foot. The bike path was crowded but never harrowing. The birds were out in full force too, congregating along the canal in little fluffy clusters. I was on a high, riding along with my friends. We joked for most of our ride and then spent the rest silently pedaling, each of us deep in our own thoughts and appreciative of our beautiful morning sun.

We decided to grab breakfast at Joni's in Marina del Rey, and it was here that we encountered Sonny Ray, the most precious pitbull I've ever met. This dog wears sunglasses and performs tricks for anyone (with bacon). His owner, Josh, is a very engaging young man who told me that Sonny Ray is the spokes-dog for his company, Sonny Rays International. He has a sunglasses line for which Sonny Ray models, which in turn helps improve the image of the Pitbull breed.

I just had to take a photo, and I told Josh I'd put his website link on here - www.sonnyrays.com - go check it out! I'm all in favor of what this young man and that entertaining pup have to offer.

After breakfast, we hoofed it back along the bike path to finish with close to 30 miles. I felt great today, my legs suddenly present and willing to push. Figures. I'm not complaining though. Any pedaling is a treat, and I'm grateful I got the rides I got this weekend (and with the great company willing to join!). I have the next month to put in some hard miles, and that route Bob mapped isn't going anywhere soon. I just hope December will bless us with the kind of weather the end of November certainly has.

stinking, rotten rich

2011-11-24T08:42:00.000-08:00

The last time I wrote on here was just as the time changed. I hate Daylights Savings Time, especially in the fall when we come out of it. I wish they (who are they, anyway? - the government? the aliens?...who??) would pick a time zone for year round and leave it there. Instead, we are all like submissive sheep, being forced to have our internal biological clocks screwed all to hell twice a year. In case you can't tell, this puts me in a foul mood. Therefore, I blame my recent inertia and lack of motivation (to do much of what I normally do - ride and blog) on the government. Why not? Everyone else blames the government for just about everything wrong in the world - consider this my contribution. Oh, and I do secretly believe that the government is just a front for the aliens. Not that I'll ever admit that out loud.

Anyway, it's Thanksgiving, and I'm compelled to write on here as I've done for the past three years. This blog was started in the fall of 2008. I can't believe I'm still at it. Until the bike riding ends (which I pray is never), I'll likely be on here yapping away about the same crap over and over again. But on Thanksgiving, I get all sentimental and back to the true reason for this blog...gratitude. As grumpy and unmotivated as I've been of late, I'm still grateful and haven't lost my sense of humor. Besides, spring will be here before we know it, and the season that least becomes me will be over. I might as well (try to) enjoy the gloom while it's here and be grateful I live where I do and am not having to deal with colder temps and grayer days! Plus, once summer blows back through this desert, and the temps go soaring, I'll be bitching about how hot and dry it is.

As of this moment, it is a blanket of gray just off my windowsill and chilly. I'm giving it another hour before I ride. Nothing too daunting today and I will be solo. I'm okay with that since I need to be at my friends' place by 2pm to help out with a few things. When I talked with my friend yesterday, she and her brother were already stressed out over today and bickering, which means they are going to be simmering siblings when I arrive. Good times! I don't mind. I didn't clean up after the meal last year like I promised, so I owe them a little extra service this year. Plus, the bro is an amazing cook. To see his goodies from last here, just click here. My mouth is already watering in anticipation!

But...I have to work it off pre-meal, so a riding I must go. I'm thinking knobbies (since it may rain) and a local canyon crawl. I need to get my climbing back up to snuff (yes, again). With the rain of late, I've not been out on long climbing rides, which is a pity. In fact, between Bike the Coast and now, the most I've ridden is 34 miles. I rode 32 miles on my mountain bike on Veterans Day, and last Saturday I rode the 34 to Silverlake with my favorite sidekick, Bob. He and I are riding 60+ miles this Saturday to make up for our laziness of late (on the bike that is; he's been running, so I can't call him lazy overall). We're also getting the training going for a couple of tough rides in the New Year, including a century and (fingers crossed) Baldy. For Saturday, he's mapped us some new route that will add close to 4,000 feet of climbing to our legs by the time we're done. I better pull it out from somewhere! - can't wait!

heading out with MFRPOAT...

he should know better than to do that when I have my camera...

boy, did I get lucky to meet this sweet friend...

Burbank bike path fairly empty in the cool morning air...

the road work in Griffith Park is almost complete...

riding around the Silverlake Reservoir on one side...

then the other side...

favorite random bridge...

barely hanging on his wheel here...

this bike path never gets old to me...

I don't know what it is, but I dig the graffiti on this underpass...

courtesy of Bob...we are so much alike when it comes to photographing randomly...

a little out of order, but this was from my ride on Veterans Day - see?
We do get a fall season...

a hidden oasis in the valley...

love the lily pond with the turtles...

still photographing anything and everything...

Now, about that gratitude. I am so very grateful for every blessing in my life. I'm grateful for my loved ones (may they all keep living for another year at least or 50 more!), my friends (may they keep on keeping on too, and may I keep them close), my job, the roof over my head, my health (I'm always working on my weight and fitness, but I'm doing well just as I am), my dragon (who gave me a lick on my nose this morning after I fed her a worm and called her "worm breath") and my bikes (actually -the ability to ride them!). I think I have it pretty damn good. In fact, in so many ways, I'm stinking, rotten rich. May I continue to keep my fortune.

grateful for this above me in the mornings...

and this above me at night...

it takes so little to make me happy...

and someone so little to love - see her heart tattoo? she must have snuck out
when I wasn't looking to get it!...

Alright, got to get up and dress to pedal. I'm resisting cause it's so gloomy out, but once I'm on the bike, all things gray will dissipate, and I'll be all ear-to-ear teeth. If you own a bike, I urge and nudge you to go out and ride if you can. Cycling just two hours at a moderate pace (not even working that hard!) will earn you 1/2 cup of stuffing. And if you're like me, you like your stuffing with gravy. So, get to rolling! - and have a wonderful, safe Thanksgiving holiday.

in reverse order

2011-11-06T16:35:00.000-08:00

For this entry, I've decided to go in reverse order. I pulled two dumbass moves this weekend, and at present, I'm in a lot of pain due one of them. So, I'll start with today and move on (back) to yesterday. That a way, while the pain is fresh in my mind (and being felt), I can lament my actions with true conviction.

On my "recovery" ride today, I hit the deck. Stupid, really. I had taken off from my driveway on knobbies to fiddle-fart around and grab a bite to eat. I'd stopped, eaten and was just about to put my helmet back on to pedal home when it started to rain again (it dumped buckets overnight and this morning; clearing to dry-ish roads and blue yet conflicted skies this afternoon). It had gone from chilly to freezing instantly. I was anxious to get out of the elements. However (and here was my mistake), I just had to get a photo of a rainbow. We don't get those often out here and I wanted to share.

I pulled up on the sidewalk, dug my camera out of my vest, took some shots and tucked my camera back into my pocket (let it be noted that the camera was not the culprit). I then clipped in and pushed off. It was here at about 5 mph (if not less) that my front tire met a fissure in the sidewalk it didn't like so much. Stupid tire. Fucking fissure (I think it appropriate to use that kind of language while in pain). In less than a nano second, I was sent free falling sideways to the left. It happened so fast, I didn't even think to react (let alone do it).

My elbow and shoulder, those two sweeties, kept the rest of me from harm. How nice are they? I don't think either are broken, but neither survived it without damage. Now? I can't make a closed fist with my left hand without pain. I can't raise my left arm without pain. I can't put any pressure on my wrist or forearm without pain. And, best of all, I can't turn my neck to the left without pain. I'm thinking that tomorrow is gonna suck. Lovely. Oh, and apparently my knee tried to get in there too, cause it's scraped, bruised all to hell and I can't bend it without pain.

How the hell that stupid of a fall could result in so much pain is beyond me, but it was (is and will be) a reminder of why it is so important to always pay attention to what you're doing when on your bicycle. I can blame the sidewalk, the rain and my front tire all I want, but let's face it - I wasn't paying close enough attention to the gawwdim sidewalk to begin with! Not to mention the fact that I likely wouldn't have encountered that fissure had I not gone up on that sidewalk to take the photo of the rainbow.

(Side note: Blogger.com has turned on the slideshow function.
So, if you'd like to see a photo or more in better detail, click on one to enlarge the slideshow.)

By God, I hope someone appreciates this photo!...
the elbow is just starting to color...

looks worse in the photo than it actually is due to lighting...
although, that is probably how it's gonna look by tomorrow (sigh)...

Anyway, that was dumbass move number two. Dumbass move number one was actually dumber, although (luckily) it resulted in no pain. It occurred yesterday morning at 4:30. I was up at 3:30am getting ready for a glorious bike ride along the coast with Bob and the girls in Oceanside. Linda and Debbie drove down midday on Friday, while Bob and I had decided to carpool early in the morning yesterday (with him driving). I had a load of laundry in the dryer and thought I'd retrieve it before he arrived (something I've done many, many times before - fetch my laundry in the dark of pre-dawn).

As I walked from my apartment down my driveway toward the laundry room, I looked to the left. A young man, blond and dressed in black, was standing on one of my neighbor's cars under the carport, peering over the top into the storage bin above the car. I was taken completely by surprise.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" I hollered.

If you know me, you know that I'm (normally) incredibly street smart. I am always aware of my surroundings, on guard, (typically) carrying my cell phone and ever vigilant. I think I'm a smart woman who doesn't take many chances. Why the hell I'd go confronting an obvious (wanna-be) burglar and likely criminal is baffling, to say the least. Might I suggest (especially if you are a female and, especially, if you are out in the dark alone) that you never, ever confront a stranger! No more than two seconds after I had hollered at him, did that young man jump down off that car and head in my direction. I have never ran so fast in my life back up my stairs and to my apartment (funny thing is, I didn't think about running - I just did it out of instinct!)

Once back (safely) behind a locked door, I frantically searched for my cell phone to call the police. The windows in my kitchen were open and through them I heard a whistle, a car door open then slam, and a car engine fire. After which I heard a speeding car exit from my apartment building driveway (without lights). It then dawned on me that not only had there been one dubious character out there to confront, but another one as well, likely just a few feet from me in a parked car that I'd not even noticed. Talk about been shaken by fear. You can bet I'll not be going back out in my driveway in the morning without looking from one end to the other first!

I reported this to my manager today, and it turns out, that young man and his accomplice had broken into one of our laundry rooms and destroyed a washer trying to get the coins out of it. My manager was shocked when I told him that I'd hollered at the guy.

"Never do that again, Mary. It's just property, stuff. He could have a gun and you don't want to deal with that." He gave me a stern look when he said all this.

My face blushed hot. "I know. It was stupid, but honestly, it was just spontaneous."

Scary lesson learned! It wasn't until Bob arrived yesterday morning that I felt safe enough to come back down to load my bike and fetch my laundry. And fortunately, that encounter did not dampen my day with him and the girls. The weather didn't dampen us either - it was spectacular outside yesterday!!!

We rode the Bike the Coast ride down in Oceanside. It's a wonderful organized ride that takes cyclists along the coast through Carlsbad, Encinitas and San Diego, looping back to Oceanside. My only criticism of the ride is how poorly it's marked. I missed at least one turn and had to climb a rather nasty (bonus) hill to get back on track. The rest stops and volunteers, however, were fantastic! My company....even better.

Bob and I road tripped it, which was so much fun. Bob's a blast and a morning person (oh, thank God). He's also a McD's breakfast person. We had our egg McMuffins and coffee along the way, while rocking out to my IPod 80's tunes. It only took us 1.5 hours to get down there and we met the girls in plenty of time to take off within a wave of other riders.

Nothing eventful to report (thank goodness) other than just good times riding with Bob (hammering to catch and stay on his wheel) and then with the girls (at a more reasonable yet aggressive pace; those two have gotten crazy fast after their bike tour in Vermont!) I was never bored nor not challenged, getting a fantastic workout while out under blue skies with cotton candy clouds. We were freezing when we took off but within 20 minutes, we were stripping down! - (cue the music) Never did it get hot, though; just perfect riding weather all the way.

I've got tons of photos to share, so I'll let those tell the story for me...

at the starting line in Oceanside...

the Oceanside Pier in the morning...

the girls arrive at the starting line...

my road tripping ride partner on his first organized ride...

sigh...

no really...sigh...

how funny is this? - for Breast Cancer Awareness...

Bob took this shot - way funky!...

he took this shot too (look in the lens, not at my head)...

and his third shot - I think he was teaching me a thing or two about
"in the lens artsy-fartsy photos!"...

the girls stripped down...

the nature conservatory...

at mile 25, turning back...

at our final rest stop...

great volunteers and food...

in a series of fantastic photos...these three made
me look good all day and cracked me up!...

the girls riding strong...

beyond a sigh...

almost to the finish line...he can taste the beer!...er...smell the barn!...

he did it - finished his first organized ride
(without being taken out by a newbie or squirrely rider)...

Oceanside Pier in the afternoon...

After the ride, Bob and I munched on tacos & a quesadilla while the girls chowed down on Greek Food. We sat on the bleachers by the ocean, content to have ridden such wonderful miles together. The girls took off shortly after that, while Bob and I stopped for some adult beverages at a local brewery (we earned it!). It was then a three hour trip back to LA, along which I sang Journey tunes off key into Bob's ear. Poor thing...the shit he puts up with. I'm still nudging him to stop saying "I really like cycling." I want to hear the words, "I LOVE to ride my bike!" from him. I'm hoping to pedal him into submission.

See? Ended this on a positive note. Can't wait for next weekend's adventures - minus any dumbass moves. I made enough this weekend to last me for awhile.

my Sangria kicked ass

2011-10-31T19:03:00.000-07:00

I'm currently hiding in the dark in my apartment. The tricker-treaters are so darn cute, but I refused to buy & keep Halloween candy around this year. I would have just doled out tiny amounts into their cheap plastic pumpkins and then ate the rest in a binge frenzy. I know this about myself cause I've done it many many times before on this holiday. This year? No candy, no binge...no tricker-treaters.

I actually celebrated on Saturday night when I had the girls over for dinner, adult beverages and a screening of Paranormal Activity 2 (so not as scary as the first film). This meant needing to be home midday to prepare. My ride was all of 30 miles, but it was spent pedaling next to Jordan. She's that young tri-chick I met through Bob whom I dragged up (who dropped me on) Stunt hill a couple of months ago. I made a bet on here that she'd finish the ride course on her first ever half iron man race - something she was near convinced she couldn't do. She was wrong. I was right. Too bad nobody would bet money against her. So instead of collecting some fool's cash, I only get to gloat - I damn well knew she could do it!

gorgeous, blue, blue, blue skies all weekend...

On Saturday, I discovered that not only did she finish the course on time, she finished it while riding on a front wheel that was rubbing against the brake pads.

"Is that your wheel making that noise or mine?" I asked as we pulled away from my driveway.

"I don't know."

"Stop for a minute," I checked my tires (fine) and then I checked hers (front wheel caught on the brake after one rotation). "Your front tire is rubbing on your brakes."

"Really?" Jordan said as she watched me re-seat her wheel. "Maybe that's why it was so hard during the race."

My jaw dropped. "You're shitting me, Jordan. You rode with your front wheel rubbing the brakes during your half?"

"Yeah, can you believe it?"

Yes, actually, I can. But in lieu of lecturing her, I let it drop. She still finished the race with time to spare, so now she can just use that knowledge as a way to brag more to her tri buddies, assuming she brags (I'm thinking not; Jordan's too cool for that).

Silverlake Reservoir...

liquid crack...

Jordan didn't want her pic taken & I never want mine taken, so we compromised...

Our ride on Saturday? Nothing eventful other than that. We rode to LA Mill in Silverlake and had lattes, rode back. Weather was perfect, and Jordan is always (always) entertaining. I was home by noon(ish) stacking candles everywhere (for spooky ambiance) and making a large batch of Devils Brew Sangria (honey-infused). I did a very nice job with my first batch of Sangria ever. Nope, I didn't follow the recipe. I kinda faked it, adding Blood Orange Italian Soda instead of orange juice, diet Ginger ale in lieu of club soda & three times the amount of Cognac that was suggested. My Sangria kicked ass, or at least, made my guests happy.

turns out, I know how to make Sangria...

the girls approved, especially of the gummy worms & body parts that I put in their mugs...

Greek food to go with it...

I'm happy to report that I didn't drink too much since I had a ride with Bob in Swankville yesterday. I was not hungover but I was tired (I can't go to bed past midnight anymore and function well). Bob didn't seem to mind, he's so sweet. He was just his regular joking self. His cousin didn't show, so all he had was my gassy, tired ass to drag up a bunch of hills. He took me on a route in his neighborhood that he calls the "hill party." It's a bunch of hills, certainly, but the party part confuses me. We rode barely 20 miles but climbed 2,100 feet. I lied to him the whole time and acted like none of it was all that hard. I'm the laziest liar in the world, so I'm sure he saw right through it.

Swankville...

a bonafide tumbleweed!...

my favorite shot of the weekend, and I didn't take it (courtesy of Bob)...

Part of the route takes you up against some hills out near the Santa Susana Pass (well, by near, I mean on the other side of the hills). It's pretty out there in a very stark way. The hills are all rock with yellow-green grass beneath them. It's windy up there, which Bob warned me. I didn't mind since it kept me cool under the sun.

the wind was blowing too hard for me to hear him, but I think he may have been singing (snicker)...

second favorite shot of the weekend...

this was Bob's pumpkin ale with whipped cream in it; I tried it...not my thang...

At the very top, we took a break, met a few other cyclists out riding and then bombed back down. It was on this descent that I noticed my front wheel was terribly out of true. I guess one of my spokes is loose or broken at the very top. This was a bummer since the only time I'm kinda fast is on downhills. Nope; yesterday I was slow climbing and descending. Again, Bob didn't seem to mind. Besides, we both knew we were getting ice cold beers at the end of it all. And that's exactly what we did immediately following. We had lunch too (with his way gorgeous better half) and hung out with his neighbor. I got to meet the cutest little Chinese Water Dragon next door to Bob's house. When Boo is gone (hopefully not in the next 10 years), I may consider one of those. They aren't as friendly as bearded dragons, but they are very unique reptiles.

Speaking of, I dressed Boo up again this year. I've got three costume shots of her. She is so darling and becoming so much a pro. I just need an animal agent to get her into commercials. She'd be so much cuter than that silly animated gecko in the insurance ads!

Boo as Tinkerbell...

Boo as a Wizard Lizard...

and my fav - Frankenstein! She made that expression all on her own (the stitches are not real, don't worry)...

Happy Halloween.

yet another very strong ride day

2011-10-23T19:26:00.000-07:00

It's sunday night and I'm knackered to the point of delirium. I rode one hell of a ride yesterday (get to that in a minute) and I did one hell of a job of cleaning today. Yup...that again. Unfortunately, I don't have a "stay at home trophy wife." I wouldn't be wanting to bang her, mind you (I don't swing in that direction), but I'd love to have her as a cleaning lady (and as a buddy to go bar hopping with to pick up men). Kind of messed up, aren't I? I'm kidding, of course. But being single doesn't always mean more time to myself to get stuff done. After all, I'm the only one around here who does the shopping, laundry, cleaning, etc. Most days? It just doesn't get done. Today? I got it done and then some. I even cleaned out my "trash truck" car, the one I haven't cleaned in over a year when I had that whole move/apartment/landlord from hell nightmare. I guess I was holding on to it all for some reason. Today, however, I purged myself of it, all of it. The car is clean. The apartment is clean. I'm exhausted!

Now, about yesterday. I went a riding on my bicycle with a groovy set of folks. There were three women (Linda, Debbie and me) and three men (Bob, Tim and Ron). I'd designed a route with two options and gave the men ample opportunity to drop the wimmin folk from the get-go. But these men?...well, they just couldn't do it. I warned them we'd be slow. See, Debbie, who is as fit as they come, doesn't ride as much as the rest of us. This means that on many rides, Linda, her friend for years, sticks with her while everyone else takes off. I've done this before myself. Honestly, Debbie and Linda don't mind at all and don't expect anyone to stay with them. But I wanted to yesterday. I mapped the ride and really wanted to see if they'd like it. It was challenging for sure but a route I love.

the group...Debbie, Linda, Tim, Ron & Bob...

cousins...

Look, Ma! No hands! (sigh)...

the poster child for safe riding techniques...

We started in Westlake Village at a little park (perfect spot as it has bathrooms and a very safe lot to park in). We pedaled around Westlake Lake to warm up and then were off on Portrero heading West. I love this area (Hidden Valley) and especially the descent to Hueneme Rd. (very steep and curvy). Yesterday, adding drama to it all, was a blanket of fog on that descent. The men soldiered ahead. We girls took it very, very easy, riding through the fog as if suddenly in another state! What had started out as a warm morning turned very cold instantly.

the girls liking the route...

Lake Sherwood...

Love this area...

I actually caught a shot of the lake...

Tim in Hidden Valley...

trying to catch up to Ron's wheel....

At the bottom, the men were waiting on us - the theme for the day and something I felt guilty about; but I did warn them and encourage them to just go ahead without us. I guess they finally took my hint, because they decided to ride out to PCH on Las Pasos Rd while us gals road flat miles across Hueneme to Wood and up to Pleasant Valley/Santa Rosa Rd. There are only so many ways to get back over to Westlake Village from this section of the coast, and I think the route I mapped was as good as any.

the group on Portrero...

Tim is in love...

down we go...

yes, I was there...

Debbie makes the descent...

the girls in the mist...

that is just so Bob...

Wood Road was very pleasant, actually (more so than Pleasant Valley), although stinky as hell. They grow Cilantro out there apparently (cringe). Considering that Linda, Debbie and I are diehard Cilantro haters, we were not thrilled to be sniffing that shit for three miles. We got whiffs of celery and what seemed to be honey (?), so it all balanced out. Due to all these aromas, the girls coined my route "the smelly ride."

When we arrived at our first rest stop, a Chevron, the men were already there. I figured as much. Bob's freaky fast, his cousin isn't far behind him and Ron?...the dude is 6'5" and lean. No way in hell or in a galaxy far far from home could I ever expect my 5'5" legs to pedal anywhere near his back wheel unless he takes it back about 200 notches. I think he dialed it down 250 on Saturday. I felt bad, but at the same time, there isn't much I can do about it. I hope he joins again. He's such a nice man with a great sense of humor. Maybe if I tethered some cinder blocks to his back wheel? (seriously, I'm just nutty enough to do it!)

the boys depart into the mist...

I'm sure these serve a purpose other than avant garde art..

on Wood Road...

I planned this perfectly...

and there's the train!...

After our break, we took off on that long stretch of Santa Rosa Rd. Ron told us it would be boring, but he lives out there. We city gals loved it! (I've been on it before but didn't remember it exactly). The hill sides were green and the fruit stands plentiful. I got whiffs of strawberries and persimmons at this point in the ride and saw lots of signs for pumpkins (or as one side read, "Pumkins"). We did well on this section and only caught up with the men when Bob had a flat. It was here that Ron asked us what option we wanted to take to get back. I wanted to follow my route, mainly cause I could take blame if anything was awful along the way.

anyone want to come up with a caption for this photo? (snicker)...

"Well, if you keep going the way you mapped," Ron said to me on the side of the road. "You'll have to climb Norwegian Grade."

"Huh? I thought we were taking Moorpark." Clearly, I need to remember roads better after I've ridden them. "I'm not a fan of that grade if I recall."

"The only other option," Ron continued. "is to take a short cut through a neighborhood with a few steep hills which adds more miles."

Adding more miles is not a short cut but I didn't point this out to a man who was trying to give me good advice. I couldn't remember the Norwegian grade all that well as it had been years since I'd ridden it last, but I figured I'd take my chances.

"We're going to take my route back," I said with a smile (so as to not come off bitchy).

Um...perhaps I should have taken the shortcut? No...it wasn't that bad. For me, actually, it was fine. I had yet another very strong ride day yesterday. My legs were more than willing to climb and never did the heat (which came on late in the ride) bother me. Debbie was okay too and went up that grade very well. Linda and Bob, on the other hand, were not feeling the love for the bike. Linda was nauseated, and Bob was having a rough day all the way around. Tim and Ron powered up it. I stopped midway to check on the others and realized how hot it had gotten at that point. Something to remember for a future ride (on that route) - cool/cold temp days only!

Ron on Norwegian Grade...

Tim on Norwegian Grade...

Bob on Norwegian Grade...

Once at the top, I asked Bob if he was okay. I've never seen him suffer and certainly not like Saturday. It concerned me but I've been there myself, so I knew what was going on. I didn't want to baby/mother him (men normally hate that shit) but he's new(ish) to cycling and he's my friend (one I'd rather not have the kind of day he had and will have again - we all do!). So, I took the chance that he might actually bite my head off (he didn't) and kept encouraging him to take a gel. I probably should have insisted the others go ahead and stopped with him at a gas station for an ice cold coke. I'm certain that would have revived him instantly. But instead, we trudged forward.

In case you think I'm embellishing...

um...that's up...

see the look in his eyes?...do not, I repeat, do not try and take that beer away from him...

Luckily, and with Ron's help, we were back at the park in no time. It was a good 90 degrees at that point (hmpf! - Weather.com said it would be no higher than 74 degrees!) and we were all ready to be off our bikes. Sadly, Ron had to get home early, but the rest of us headed to Islands for food, beer and laughs. Personally, I had the best time yesterday, another perfect day with perfect company. I just wish both Linda and Bob had felt a little better. But those days happen to the best of us and I'm sure I'm going to get hit with one soon. I've had too many good ride days in a row now...I'm jinxed.

yin-yang

2011-10-17T05:58:00.000-07:00

Not sure why, but I can never sleep in past 5am these days. Might be due to my normal rise at 4:30am for the gym most days. But no matter what, my eyelids pop open every day long before the sun even begins to stir. Today, I'm not going to the gym in the morning, so I decided to use this time to write a quick entry. I had zero time to do it this past weekend. I was a busy girl.

On Saturday, I rode my bike (duh). It was so pretty out, so pretty, the kind of day everyone across the country thinks LA has 365 days a year. We don't. In fact, it is rare to have a day with blue skies (little smog), lots of sun, cool breezes and temperatures never rising over 82 degrees. Supposedly, we will continue to have these kinds of days for the next two weeks before it goes to hell in a hand basket (a late October heat wave - which is the worst!) I took advantage of Saturday's glorious-ness by riding from home to the Rose Bowl and back.

I had company this week, Bob's cousin, Tim. Like Bob, Tim is a very unassuming individual with a sweet nature about him. It was interesting getting to know him better and actually seeing similarities in his and Bob's characters. This wouldn't be odd, of course, since they are family. I asked Tim if they saw much of each other when they were young boys. He said that it was only around holidays. But they're closer now and do ride together (both are so strong on a bike!) That's how I met Tim in the first place and I was fortunate to have him along on Saturday.

Along Flower, just as the overcast was wearing off...

On Mountain, above Glendale...love this area...

Halloween is officially here and the spooks are out...

Since my riding has improved of late, I decided to map a little tougher of a route than my normal 50 miler round trip to Pasadena. Tim didn't know the difference and was game for anything. So, I took us up to Chandler (one of my favorite roads to ride on when working my way east or west across the valley). It was flat out empty at 8:30 in the morning. The Burbank bike path was pretty empty too. Flower Street was a ghost town and it struck me that I've never seen that many cyclists use that road. That's a pity, cause it's wide, smooth and a quick way to pedal east. We were booking at 18/19mph the whole way. On Sonora, the (slight) climbing begins. It was here that I noticed how strong my legs felt. I knew I was in for a good ride.

yes, I was there...

Tim had never ridden the neighborhoods I escorted him through on Saturday. I love that - taking folks on roads they've never pedaled. It makes the ride seem all shiny brand new again in my eyes while seeing it through theirs for the first time. Tim really liked Kenneth Village and the rollers above Glendale. Like Bob, he is very strong on the hills, and at Verdugo, I told him just to take off and I'd meet him at the top. He was well ahead but I never lost sight of him (not sure if that's cause I was pushing it or if he was taking it a tad easier).

riding past Descanso Gardens...

lots of cyclists out on Saturday...

past the 210 to the other side of the Bowl...

After a quick stop at the Food Mart, we were up hospital hill (Tim didn't care for that hill) and into the gorgeous Pasadena neighborhoods by Descanso Gardens. I love love love riding over there, never tire of it and was thrilled that Tim seemed to really dig this part of the ride the most. We worked our way up and around to Arroyo above the Bowl on the far eastern side and then down to the Bowl proper. My plan was to climb up out of the Bowl on the farthest north western corner (up that little ass-burner that always hurts), out to Linda Vista and up Inverness, eventually cresting St. Katherine (St. Kat's).

I just don't have the balance to do this...

the fastest way up out of the Bowl, but not the least painful way...

I love that canyon climb. It's painful and delicious all at the same time. I haven't been up it in well over a year and figured I'd waddle it. Nope! No waddling. I climbed and I climbed well! Tim was ahead but, again, I never lost sight of him. As I finally rounded the last curve by the school and caught up with him, I patted Tim on the shoulder. If you've not ever done that climb, it can be a little annoying. Luckily, we had mostly downhill from there until that last small climb up past the gardens and back out on Foothill. Then, the rest of the ride was truly all downhill/flat!

beginning of Inverness....I have missed this hill...

almost to St. Kat's...

I have missed this climb too...

As I promised Tim, we got lunch in Montrose. I had planned to take him to City Hall, but Tim commented on how good a cold beer would taste. Hey, why not? We ended up at a Mexican joint, Joselitos, clanking beer bottles and eating a taco. We only had one each, so it just seemed naughtier than it really was. And I guess those carbs are what fueled me on the way back. I was flying!

heading back to Foothill...

naughty, naughty...

Back at my place, I high-fived Tim. He seemed genuinely satisfied and happy to have ridden. He's now on board for next week's ride where he'll be joining Bob, the girls and me. Can't wait! As for me, my legs felt fantastic after the ride on Saturday. I wasn't tired at all. I think the riding, running and weight workouts of late are doing it. I'm getting fitter by the minute and I'm so determined this time. It's not about losing weight or training for something. It's just about getting my fitness back to the point I can ride any ride I choose again without fear of (truly) suffering. Already on Saturday, Tim and I were talking about riding Baldy. It's just around the corner and I'm going to take it by storm.

Yesterday? Hike day with the girls. I had planned one off of Latigo Canyon in Malibu but when I drove from the valley side over that canyon, I never could find the trail head (grumble, grumble...). This meant the torture of having to drive those curves all the way down to the ocean. However, it gave me a perspective on what motorists see when we cyclists ride that road. It's really narrow! And cyclists really do ride way too far out in the opposite lane for their own good. Something I'm going to keep in mind next time I pedal up it.

in Temescal Canyon...

itty-bitty, miniature waterfall (that's the size of my hand)...

Fortunately for me, the girls are easy going. With one phone call, I was driving along PCH beside one of the prettiest oceans I've ever seen, heading west to Temescal Canyon. We three met at Sunset Blvd. and hiked up on the posh trails there. Good workout for sure but not a very long outing.

look closely at what's floating in the water by the waterfall...

the girls said these are insects, but I disagree...that there is an alien...

The rest of my weekend was spent eating and socializing, including a wine tasting on the west side. This week, I'm going to have to make up for some of my excesses (not the wine, the cheese...the mounds and mounds of cheese, my favorite food!), but it was all worth it. After all, I got the best of both worlds, yin-yang, fitness and relaxation. Just the way I like it.

I did what I had to do

2011-10-09T16:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a girl has to do what she's got to do to get the job done. And when that girl is on the road to better fitness and shape, she can't let a little loneliness get in the way. That girl is me, of course, and I'm talking about cycling. I had nobody to ride with yesterday, although I wasn't crying into my pillow over it. Bob is out of town for another week, and the ride partner I (sorta) had lined up for yesterday had to back out. I was too lazy to ask (beg) someone else to come suffer with me. So, I did what I had to do...I rode alone.

The suffering I'm referring to was delivered in full by one little ol' mountain road...Stunt. I've come to love that canyon, mainly cause it's so close to home (by close, I mean 25ish miles to the top of it) and an ass-kicker no matter when/where/how I attack it. I've gotten lazier and more spoiled than ever, just by being able to jump on my bike at the tip of my driveway and ride as many respectable miles as I please. Stunt definitely earns me that respect, gives me a chance to be away from the city and allows my inner cyclist her enjoyment of sadomasochistic pleasure. Win-win-win! Therefore, a route out to Stunt, up it and back (for 50 miles and 3,000+ feet of climbing) was what I was determined to accomplish...alone.

Awhile back, Bob and I debated my route through the Encino neighborhoods. The roads I've chosen are just great - smooth, well-paved and less trafficked - but they are also winding and many of them steep. Taking them in lieu of Ventura Blvd. (which many of them run parallel to) adds more time and effort to the ride. Bob insisted that Ventura Blvd. could be used instead, making it a straight shot to Topanga Canyon. I've not budged the couple of times he's ridden to Stunt with me (I'm stubborn like that). But go figure, he's out of town, I decide to ride to Stunt alone, and I choose to take Ventura Blvd. out to Topanga instead of my regular route. Well, I just thought I'd try it and see if he is correct.

flat #1, cause of a stupid Ventura Blvd. pothole - all Bob's fault!

did I mention that Ventura Blvd. is stupid?

Now, I know what Ventura Blvd. is like as I've ridden on it before. Heading East it's a pain in the ass - full of ruts, potholes, debris, car doors and stupid motorists. Heading West, it's worse, far worse. As luck would have it, I had this point driven home yesterday while I was all of 2.5 miles from my driveway. As I rode under the bypass into dark shade, my back wheel landed in the mother of all potholes. Had my front tire gone in, I'd have gone right over my handle bars. As it was, I had pull every ounce of skill out of me to a) get the wheel to keep rolling on up and out of it; and b) keep the bike upright and me on it. Oh, and best part of all? My back wheel popped like a cannon going off and flatted instantly. All of this happened within seconds and all while an automobile accelerated a mere 12 inches (or less) from my left elbow.

"Fuck!" - was all I could think to mutter in the moment. Fortunately (and obviously), I survived it. My back wheel has not, and (sigh) I'll be making another trip to the bike shop this coming week to get my back wheel trued. I was carrying two tubes with me yesterday (oh thank goodness!), so I had no issue fixing the flat (I'm quite good at it, actually). While getting more grease on my once not-greasy-at-all-brand-new-jersey, it dawned on me. This is all Bob's fault. Yup, he gets the blame and is going to get an earful when he returns! (I realize that he did not put that pothole there, but that is not the point. I was there on that crappy street cause he suggested it!)

up on Mulholland - that's more like it!

this hill on Mulholland is the one I dread...

After getting the tube changed, I was back rolling on Ventura, grumbling under my breath. Cars passed by me, rushing to their Saturday morning eggs, car doors swung open within my path every few minutes and potholes/ruts/debris threatened my front wheel continuously. I didn't actually breathe a sigh of relief until I turned onto Topanga Canyon. I will admit that Ventura Blvd. is faster than the hood route and leaves a little more climb in the legs (much needed for Mulholland and Stunt), but it is definitely not less stressful!

The only real break that I took within 45 miles was at Starbucks. It was fast - buy fruit gel & water, pee, drink fruit gel & water, leave. I busted a move, mostly likely cause I was a little nervous riding out on Mulholland alone. I have many times in the past scolded women for riding by themselves anywhere even sorta remote. And personally, I think no one should ride alone if he/she can help it. All it takes is one rock, hitting the pavement hard and having no one expecting you at the top or bottom of a canyon for your goose to be cooked! I admit I was a hypocrite yesterday and I can accept that. I did ride faster and with more caution, though, especially on the descents. I was always aware of my solitude and impeccably alert.

Stunt in all its glory

tons of shade almost all the way up...

As for Stunt itself, I took that hill on with complete determination. It was simply stunning out there by the time I rounded the first corner and had begun the climb. The temperatures were warm for sure, but there were plentiful breezes and the kindest shade I've ever encountered on that canyon. Maybe it was the time of day or time of year, but most of my climb was shaded (thank goodness!). I'm proud to report that I neither waddled nor slid up it on my stomach. I pedaled without stopping all the way to the water spigot (the sweet resident up there who has that out at the end of his/her driveway is a saint). I had to stop there to fill up my water bottle, but I didn't stay long. Oddly, the only cyclists who passed me going up the hill were two young guys. They hollered out their hellos as they pedaled right by me as if I were some couch left out on the road for donation. Seriously, they were freaky fast!

the only two riders I saw climbing up...

at the very empty, lonely top...

the ocean in the distance...

believe it or not, but that's a shot from the very top down...

At the top, I found no one but two motorcyclists. I didn't mind. The view to the ocean was lovely. I was high as a kite too, thrilled that I'd climbed that road as well as I had. I didn't waste time, snapped a couple of photos and hightailed it back down to Mulholland. There, it was the usual annoying climb back up a ways. It's not a hard hill by any means, but it goes on forever!

Finally back at Topanga, I was home free! I sailed down it, grinning ear to ear and passed Starbucks without stopping. Probably not a wise thing to have done, looking back. As I headed toward the Orange Line bike path for my last 12 flat miles home, I encountered a patch of glass that could not be avoided (without swerving into the car next to me). Although my gators are the best tires to roll on (in my opinion), they are not invincible. I'm sure you can guess it.

"Fuck!" - was all I could think to mutter in the moment. I pulled over to check the front tire, and already it was going down. Luckily, I was close enough to the bike path to jump on it and under some shade. I then replaced tube number two - TWO flats in one ride! Oh, and I blame Bob for this one too. Why? Cause I can - that's why (snicker).

flat number two - again, I blame Bob!...

The rest of the ride was uneventful except for my almost bonking (while dealing with the second flat, I forgot to drink/eat anything). I made a quick stop at a local joint for a snack, and rolled into my driveway five hours and fifteen minutes after leaving it. With the fixing-the-flats, break at Starbucks and refreshment stop at mile 47, I estimate that my ride time was no more than four.5 hours, and that's with all the climbing. For me, that's pretty damn good. I'm definitely getting faster and stronger.

the girls and me on Ballona Creek Bike Path

so so blue today...

view off the Marina Del Rey Bridge...

As for today, I rode with the girls on the west side. We put in 34 miles with rollers (ouch) under very blue skies. We rode all the way to Redondo, to the dolphin sighting spot along the coast and back, stopping at one of our favorite coffee shops. There, I got to hear all about a wonderful Vermont biking trip they'd just completed. I was so jealous but excited to hear (and can't wait to see their photos).

I love this shot - that's a sister representing!...

the view off the coast down to Palos Verdes, love it here...

We had a great day of it except for the fact that there was so much traffic and kinetic activity everywhere! Dodging obstacles was our game today and not one we enjoyed. By the time we got back to the cars, we were spent. I'm so tired now, I can barely keep my eyelids open, not that I'm complaining. Another good weekend of riding. Just makes the Mondays a little more tolerable.

I made out okay

2011-10-02T17:16:00.000-07:00

I haven't been so committed to keeping up on the "30 Days of Biking" challenge on this blog...but really, how annoying would it have been had I continued documenting each day of it with, "rode from one end of my driveway to the other...?" (I can answer that.) So, I just stopped describing my challenge in its entirety. I also forgot on a couple of my last entries to start with "Day __, September ___, 2011." I'm too lazy to go back and correct them, too. With all of this confessed, I am happy to report that I did, in fact, complete the challenge. Yup. I rode a bike of some kind every day for 30 days straight.

Here are my thoughts for anyone who cares to read them:

1. Riding a bike (of some kind) every day isn't all that hard as long as you have a bike (of some kind) to ride. I had my road bike, my mountain bike, my company's departmental bike (the clunker) and the spin bike at the gym (the rules of the challenge did not stipulate that one could not use a stationary bike to complete the challenge). I really had no excuse for not pedaling every day.

2. It is far more fun to bike anywhere at any time as long as you have something other than just panties on under your skirt while riding. I think I may have flashed my "personal business" while riding at work until I finally tucked a pair of bike shorts in my backpack.

3. You can sneak in much more exercise just by riding a bike casually, even if for just 10 minutes! And if you are pressed for time, you can skip your other workouts since cycling counts as (is) exercise.

4. (Some) people think you're really cool when you meet them for dinner in a helmet. Since I'm not cool in any other respect, I found this particularly appealing.

Those are all the positives. I don't have any negatives really, except that I wish I could have commuted to work. I've cooled it on that since it involves a lot of planning and a real risk to my safety if I don't time it right. I've learned when drivers are at their very worst and most dangerous - first thing in the morning (with the rising sun in their eyes) and just as they get off from work (with the setting sun in their eyes). These are times I do not like being on the road pedaling next to them. At least twice during the challenge, I had a car come dangerously close to bumping me. Both times, neither driver seemed to give a damn!

Anyway, I know all of this is anti-climatic. Really, I just did the challenge for myself. My true obsession with cycling has been an ongoing love affair for far longer and will continue. Which makes it all the funnier to me that yesterday I went nowhere near a bike. Yesterday was October 1st (where has this year gone?!), which meant the challenge was over. It was blistering hot in the valley, I'd made no plans with anyone to ride, and I had an apartment that needed straightening. Those were all the excuses I needed!

secret dirt path up to Mulholland (okay, not so secret as I passed 2 cyclists on it!)...

the first of several steep climbs for the day...

Nike Missile Site under blue skies & a brilliant sun...look closely, there's a bike up there...

I made up for it today by riding from home over to dirt Mulholland, out to Topanga Canyon and back. That ride I've not done for a long time and I kinda missed it. My ride plans for today fell through, so I figured, why not? Turns out, if you don't pedal consistently on dirt (especially if you don't climb on it regularly), it becomes difficult and arduous all over again! It didn't help that dirt Mulholland is absolutely filled with loose gravel (we need rain!). I was slipping and sliding all over the place, having to unclip from my pedals constantly to paddle through it.

at times I was out there with company...

and then there were times that I was completely alone...

love these guys! I feel safe riding up there solo because of these amazing volunteers...

I made out okay. Other than it being a little on the warm side in Encino, it was perfect out today. None of that 90+ degree stale heat we had yesterday. More so, there were deliciously cool breezes licking my neck the whole time I was pedaling. I love it up there on the ridge of the Santa Monica Mountains. I feel I'm at the top of LA, smack on the divide between the west side and the valley (and in fact, that would be true). Even when riding alone up there, I am never lonely. Always a hiker/biker or two, not to mention all the crows, rabbits, lizards and the occasional hawk flying overhead to say hello to. It's never a dull ride, my thoughts are often settled while doing it, and, like today, I end up with 30 hard earned miles under me (on knobbies, no less!).

I realized today that I do, in fact, have a cyclist's tan...

my reward for riding - a Mango Lassi! - creamy frothy goodness in a cup...

I was tired when I got home and starving. But first thing I did was nap after showering the dust off of me (Bob has nicknamed me "Pig Pen" cause I get so filthy while out riding, whether on road or dirt). I've since scarfed down a salad and am hoping to get to bed early. I plan to hit the gym in the morning. Or, if too tired to drag the buttage out of bed at 4:30am, I'll hit the track in the afternoon. I'll be damned - I've gotten back into running. It still sucks but I'm determined to keep doing it. Without trying, I've dropped a few pounds of late....as in, since I first hit the track a couple of weeks ago. It's not just that, though. There's more to it, but nothing I'm going to reveal on here. I gotta keep some things a mystery.

he knows I love it

2011-09-25T06:00:00.001-07:00

It's 6am on a Sunday, and I am wide awake (clearly). I'm not one to sleep in on any day, but Sunday is the one and only that I could sleep in should I really want to. I wanted to. My legs did not. They are buzzing today. I'm tempted to go for a longer ride than I got planned, but I have too many other "adult" responsibilities on my plate. If only I could detach my legs and just let them run (pedal) free. After all, we don't need to spend every waking minute together.

"Coach Bob" happy to put the hurt on!...

overcast...not great for photo taking but great for climbing...

heading to the pass...

My legs have fully recovered from the hurt I put on them. And really it wasn't me, it was Bob, whom my legs chased for 63 miles. He had mapped us a ride using a route his triathlete buddies took him on awhile back, and every road we were on, I'd ridden before various times. But Bob's route in total was new to me and it was tough. Bob always sends me his Garmin data from our rides together and typically the elevation is much higher than he sells me on. I thought I was facing a little over 3,100 feet of climbing yesterday. But at mile 60, climbing the final hill back to his house in Swankville, my legs begged to differ. I'm going bet we got a total closer to 4,100+. Next time he sees me, he'll just smile all sheepish when I (mock) growl at him. He knows I love it, even (especially) when it hurts.

proof that he paced me; I was panting, he was talking with ease (sigh)...

a brief opportunity to catch him and his photo from the front...

then I dropped him...for all of two seconds...

riding past the Ronald Reagan Library; we would have stopped if not for the climb up to it...

Then there's this whole business of my chasing his wheel. I don't have my Polar on my bike anymore; in fact, I'm riding without any gadget informing me of speed and distance. But I've ridden enough years now to pretty much guess. Bob, who has two gadgets along with that Garmin (such a male thing), thinks I don't know it when he's pushing the pace at 22mph+. Yesterday, he swore to me that I hung on his wheel at 25mph for "awhile." Right. And I'm a pro racer, too, don't ya know? - If we were at 25mph, it was on a slight downhill because my legs can't rotate pedals that fast! Regardless, I was gritting my teeth at times trying to keep up with him, but I never admitted it to him when he asked, "is the pace okay?" Bob is so much fun to ride with, so considerate, if he wants to turbo-charge it, by all means. I will just have to keep working on getting faster.

in Westlake with the sun fully out...

I hammered like hell to get this shot; not sure I should have done that...

Besides, I was spared a true hammer-fest had the other two boys joined. Ron had a triathlon today, so he was out, and Tim was out on a motorcycle ride (ick! I'm going to have to work on him). Bob was stuck with the girl all by himself. He never seems to mind. He even paced me over Santa Susana Pass (which does not mean I was any faster climbing it) and tried to keep the pace "steady, not too fast." In his defense, he has calves three times the size of mine and is in far (far) better shape. Even near the end of the ride when he was crying wolf (insisting that he was as tired as I was), he took each roller with ease.

this was Bob's idea for an artsy fartsy photo...

then he took this one; I'm teaching him the art of "in the lens" shots...

Our route? Swankville to Santa Susana Pass, over it (ow), out Los Angeles Ave. over to Erbs, up it (ow), past the Ronald Reagan Library, to and through Thousand Oaks, to Westlake Blvd. and up it (ow), around the lake (so pretty), to Lindero Cyn to Agoura (and through downtown Calabasas, where a pedestrian walked out in front of Bob who somehow managed to calmly avoid hitting the dumbass) to Mureau St. and up it (ow) to Valley Circle Blvd. and up all the various rollers back to Swankville. The stretch back up and across the valley to his house seemed forever. Even Bob commented on this as he pedaled (easily) up each hill that felt like a mountain to me. I hung in though as I loved the route. There is nothing wrong with pushing past your comfort zone, which is precisely what I had done. Like Bob said, I earned my post ride beer!

heading up Las Virgenes to Murea under blue skies...

I was still hanging on his wheel at this point...

yeah...that didn't last long...

I don't think it necessary to go on and on about how fantastic my day was. I had my usual topnotch riding partner with me (MFRPOAT) and wide, pretty roads to pedal on, what more could I have asked for? The weather was perfect too - overcast and chilly in the morning, burning off to sunny blue skies by the afternoon; zero headwinds. We didn't take many breaks, so this got us back before it had gotten too hot. I think I wore my arm warmers for the majority of the day.

post ride treat...ice cold and so so good...

Now, back to my legs, who wanted to leave me for good last night - they are fully recovered this morning! It's likely due to all my riding of late for the 30 Days of Biking Challenge, coupled with running (yes that; and yes, I'm still doing it). I rode every day last week on the department bike (the clunker). Hey, it works and it gives me a good little 15-20 minute workout right in the middle of the day. My hair is always a mess afterwards from the helmet, but where I work, who cares! As for the running, I hit the track last week, knocking out two miles with a climb up the stadium steps in between (which is a killer workout). Then, I ran on the treadmill for 15 mins during a gym visit. I'm working my way up, which is what "Coach Bob" has insisted I do. He wants me to keep it to two, maybe three, miles for awhile. My goal (yup, I have one) is to work it back up to six miles at least twice a week for cross training in addition to cycling. I still hate running, it sucks. But it's something different, and I've been inspired to do it. Inspiration, it turns out, is a very powerful drug...kind of like endorphins. I guess they go hand in hand.

always my goal

2011-09-20T19:46:00.000-07:00

Rarely am I too tired to write. Even if what I'm "penning" (typing) is crap, it is still forthcoming. Well, imagine me on Sunday, trying to blog about the wonderful rides (with two fantastic folks) this weekend, and literally falling asleep as I was typing. Yikes! I told Mom that today ("I fell asleep with my laptop on my lap while typing...") and she gasped. "You watch that and see if it happens again," was her reply. Mom reads too many books about either evil forces or deadly diseases. I'm fine. I was just really tired. So, I gave up on trying to write anything coherent.

In a nutshell, I've been pushing it of late. I'm not going to talk about why (although it's nothing new), I just am. I even (ready for this?) ran (jogged; okay, shuffled my feet) twice last week! I'm trying to mix it up. I've also met some incredible folks of late who run....Bob being one of them. If he can knock out 100 miles by bike under my tutelage, then...well...I should at least try to run under his (not that he's asked me to, mind you). Running is fucking hard (forgive my french). Jogging isn't much easier, and shuffling - that shit sucks. But I did it - all of three miles one night and a mile one morning - woot! - I hope it helps my fitness as that is always my goal.

As for this past weekend's riding - I rode with Linda up into Griffith Park on Saturday and with Bob out to Topanga Canyon on Sunday. Both rides never bore me, but my company had more to do with that this time than before.

On Saturday, Linda and I took off from my driveway over to Toluca Lake, past the studios (all of this is so familiar), to Forrest Lawn, into the park. We switched it up, however, when we got there.

"Wanna try something different?" I asked Linda.

"Sure!"

the studios under dramatic skies...

many cyclists out...

This meant riding up the other side of the park, the "golf course" side of Trash Truck Hill to the gate that leads up into Hollywood Drive. We debated over whether this side was harder than the front, but ended up compromising. The front is harder, but the back way, by the golf course, is longer. So, really - 2 half dozen six or the other (I never get that expression right). We both got up it and into the canyons under cool overcast skies. Perfect riding weather.

yes....there...

in the canyons...

up...

At the top (the intersection), I talked Linda into taking the back (less traveled) way down. A mistake, sadly. The road was so rough and gravely, with deep pockets of sand. Linda was game, for sure, but only cause she's kind that way. I know she'd have preferred to skip it (as I would have too) given that there was no clear view pay-off at the scenic spot (overcast means muddled views).

heading down the "other" side...

not great, but it's there...

After this detour, we took the bike path back and Forrest Lawn (again) to head west across the valley home. With a lunch at a local "dive," we were rewarded for our efforts. We weren't lazy either, instead pushing the pace and each other. Fantastic morning of riding - one I never tire of.

on the bike path back...

Sunday was "Bob Day" - you know? MFRPOAT? He drove over to Bel Air North from Swankville to knock out 26 miles heading west. I love this ride and having great company only improved it. This time, we took the hills on the way out and back but we cut the mileage short. Both of us were tired for different reasons (his involved running 10 miles which is just triathlete crazy!; mine involved "who knows what??")

riding on recently paved streets...this never gets any easier...

except for him!!!...

someone dumped water on my head and messed with my helmet...

riding back through Encino....

on one of several hills...dropping me! :)....

perfect blue skies...

Both days of riding were excellent, and I'm not sure what tired me out so much by Sunday afternoon, but I hope to whip it by this following weekend. I've got 65 miles to ride with some very strong men on Saturday. I better pull it from somewhere!

favorite shot of the weekend

As for the daily riding - I rode both yesterday and today on the clunker. I don't have many pics, cause my camera is, yet again, busted. Honestly, I'm so hard on cameras. I lost some great pics from this weekend sadly, as so many of them came out blurry. The memories of both days' rides, however...perfectly clear and stored.

still at it

2011-09-16T04:15:00.000-07:00

Day 12, 13, 14, 15 & 16, September 12-16, 2011

I told Bob last Sunday on our ride that I wasn't going to blog every day this week. I don't really have the time. In fact, it's 4:21am on a Friday that I'm even getting a chance to pop on here! But I've not blown the challenge. Still at it. In fact, it's starting to become the norm. Hmmm...maybe my 30 Days of Biking will become 365 days?

Monday, 9/12 - riding around at work on the department bike in a helmet that does not belong to me (i.e. I didn't pick it out and, no, it doesn't fit right. Luckily I can't go fast enough on the "clunker" to really ever fall off, so I think I'm covered)

Tuesday, 9/13, I rode the clunker to the track and ran 3 miles. I haven't ran in over two years and figured "why not?" Plus, I've been hanging around them crazy-ass triathletes lately. They're wearing on me...

Wednesday, 9/14 - short ride to buy a lotto ticket (fingers crossed) and to grab a bite at my favorite Chinese dive.

Last night, September 15th, rode to meet two friends for dinner locally. I felt so European arriving on bike. I impressed one of my friends who seemed a little jealous. Maybe I inspired her? (doubtfully, but one never knows)

Friday, September 16th, 2011 - haven't ridden yet but will at work. It's going to be the busiest day of the year and the only way I will be able to get around will be by bike. I'm just hoping no one takes me out during all the chaos. Since I don't have a photo, here's a very close representation (only I will be wearing a helmet!):

Now, I need to get ready for the gym. It's going to be a long day and a lot of clock-watching before I can get to the weekend...and another opportunity to ride.

Happy Friday!

you fat ass

2011-09-11T19:46:00.000-07:00

Day 11, September 11, 2011

WARNING: GRAPHIC LANGUAGE

I'm knackered tonight, worn out but in a good way. I finished the work I had left to do, but not before I rode today (priorities!). I had company, my favorite... I doubt I even need to say his name at this point.

Trash Truck...

he wishes...

he was tired today or he'd have been nowhere in sight (up the hill already)...

Bob's attempt at an artsy fartsy shot...

We just rode 30 miles, but they were fun ones, up into the Griffith Park canyons to the observatory. We posed there with coffees and enjoyed the gorgeous (if not a tad chilly) day it was in So Cal.

arriving at the observatory...

it never gets any less pretty...

hike a bike...

no, really...hike a bike!...

my attempt at an artsy fartsy shot...

my second attempt....

Hollywood in the distance...

Getting up to the observatory, Bob had stuck with me on the climbs, cause he was tired (or so he says). My win! I got to talk his ear off and push myself (to stay in the middle ring all the way up until the final steepest part - but never was I in my granny; the legs are coming back to me.) We only stopped once at the usual photo op place on the hill, where Bob hammed it up out on a large rock overlooking the valley below. I was afraid he was going to fall and crack his skull open, but he made out okay. I refused to go out on the rock (I'm scared of heights).

should I go out on the rock? huh?...

I'm on the rock, can I go over there now? Huh?...

On the "other side," we rode through Los Feliz to the bike path and back. Bob stopped a couple of times so I could take photos of birds along the LA River (none of which came out well). He's so great that way, doesn't mind pulling over, plus, with the headwinds we had hounding us all the way back, he was in no hurry.

In Los Feliz...

on the bike path heading home...

Bob pushes the pace...

so many of these out and so great to see!...

almost to Riverside Drive...

Oh, and we got yelled at twice. Once on the way out by a man in a Honda. "Single File!" he hollered.

"Relax!" I yelled back. "It's Sunday, and you've got another lane." He did, and he should have used it. We should have been single file though...fair enough.

The second motorist was a woman, a white-trash-piece-of-shit - not that I pointed that out to her when I had the opportunity. She did a u-turn and pulled right into the bike lane on Riverside Drive. Just as luck would have it, Bob was in front of me, and yes, we were riding single file in the bike lane.

"Hello!" Bob yelled at her through her rolled down passenger window after he had to slam his brakes on so as to avoid running smack into the back of her crappy jeep. "Bike Lane here!"

"Fuck you, mother fucker, fuck you!" She screamed. "I can see it's the fucking bike lane." (verbatim)

"Then why did you pull in it?" I yelled as I passed. "You could have hurt or killed one of us."

"Fuck you bitch! Fuck you! Fuck you!"

"You ain't right...something's wrong with you!" I replied (in a less angry, high-pitched tone than her.)

"Oh, fuck you, you fucking bitch, you fucker! You FAT ASS!!!!!!!"

Okay, here is where I had to shake my head and laugh. Look it, my ass is on the rather...um...large size (always has been; baby's got back), but to have a white trash moron sitting in a jeep who (I'd bet millions that I don't have) couldn't ride 10 miles, let alone 100, call me a fat ass....? Oh, the irony...the irony.

"what was her problem??"...

I can smell the barn...

Sadly, those folks are out there. I'm proud to say, neither Bob nor I lowered ourselves to her level and cursed at her. We were in the right, she was wrong, and I'm just grateful neither of us were hurt due to her actions. When on a bike, you got to watch out for your own hide...or in my case, fat ass.

Bob's attempt at a "down shot" - um...not quite there...

now, he's got the hang of it...

After all this drama, we got back safe and headed to our favorite lunch stop where we split a turkey sandwich and some beer. It was here I taught Bob how to take a "down shot" to make the subject you're photographing look thinner. He finally got the hang of it, although he still didn't make me look like Claudia Schiffer (sigh). Another day, I suppose - which means another fun ride with Bob. Oh, twist my arm! (snicker)

love you much

2011-09-10T16:56:00.000-07:00

Day 10, September 10, 2011

Today was weird weather-wise. We had a freak lightening storm out here in the valley, one that about scared the pee out of me. Thing was, I happened to be riding my bicycle when the clouds above me just went at it, followed by rain. Huh? It wasn't predicted that I know of! Anyway, chicken-shit here hid under an awning until it passed (about 10 minutes). I then went on to complete 30 miles on my mountain bike.

rain brings puddles and opportunities for funky photos...

here, waiting out the storm; the bruise from the other day is still not gone!...

I think it's time for new mountain biking shoes...

I had a fantastic riding partner lined up for today, and some fantastic miles to go along with him, but I have to work this weekend. Yes, work. I'm not asked often, but where I work is about to head into their busiest two weeks of the entire year, and I'm the one in charge of a PowerPoint presentation among other things. I didn't want to stay late last night (although my dinner plans fell through as my friend had to work late!) so I agreed to do the work over the weekend. Thus, I bailed on my riding buddy for today, and instead got up this morning to work for a couple of hours. I'm still not done, but I got what was critical accomplished.

here is where I tried to out-ride the rain...

I didn't quite make it...

I then canceled out of my plans for tonight (sigh) cause I just had to get a ride in! I can't do it all, and my bike won out over a martini. Yes, I am that addicted to cycling. So, off I went a pedaling around 11am (late for me!) and got caught in that freak storm, waited it out and then rode all the way to the Starbucks on Topanga.

I absolutely squealed when I saw this...

There, I lost my sunglasses (gawddim it!) but found the best treasure of all in a little gift shop adjacent to Starbucks - a sterling silver necklace with a bike pendant. It is darling and was on sale, so I nabbed it. I then rode off with sunny blue skies above me and took photos of palm trees and puddles (fascinated with both for some reason).

I don't know why, but I'm now obsessed with photographing palm trees...

My lunch stop was at my favorite Indian restaurant where I chowed down on all vegetarian (mostly vegan) lowfat Indian food. It was divine and well earned.

spicy chickpeas, grilled (not deep fried) papadum, raita & brown rice...

mouthgasm!!!!...

It was there that I had my best moment of the day. I called Mom to say hi, and she told me she is so proud of me. No particular reason but just proud cause I'm making it on my own. She brightened my day for sure (always does) and I begged her to live at least another 15 years (that would put her close to 90) She said she might if she feels well. I sure hope she does as it will break my heart when I don't have her anymore. I didn't dwell on those thoughts much though and, instead, just kept hearing her sweet southern voice saying "love you much" in my head as I pedaled home with a goofy grin.

I never, ever take a single day for granted.

it was a tad eerie

2011-09-09T06:50:00.000-07:00

Day 8 and 9, September 8 - 9, 2011

I'm doubling up cause I just didn't have time to write when I got home last night. I went to a "cocktail party" thingy with a friend. It was at a skin care boutique. I didn't want to go, and not because I don't enjoy my friend's company, but because I didn't want to be around food and booze. Fortunately, the food offered was right off a Weight Watchers menu - vegetable skewers, eggplant rolls and salmon on tiny (and I do mean tiny) crostinis - and the cocktails were wine or vodka tonics. I stuck mostly to the veggie skewers and had 1/2 glass of wine (that's how they poured them). That was dinner.

The party was actually a skin care seminar, which really was just about as interesting as watching paint dry. The topics presented were on how to look younger using all-natural, homeopathic products. After an hour of talking heads (all of which were perfectly tanned and coiffed), the boutique owners raffled off botox treatments, infill treatments (injections for the lips) and "chemical" peels. Now, I ask you - what the hell is all-natural about any of that?

The party goers (except me) were all dressed up fancy, and most of them were your typical LA types. I did not fit in (shocker), especially in the skirt-with-blue-sneakers look I had going on. I wear those shoes at work because of all the walking/riding I do, and in a rush to get to the party, I forgot to switch them out for my strappy black sandals. I'm not sure anyone cared since I was not the focus. They (almost all women) were too busy shrieking in delight (if they had a winning raffle ticket) or pouting in disappointment (if they didn't). I, on the other hand, kept thinking to myself, "who gives a shit, it's not as if you're winning a bike." Like I said, I did not fit in.

Speaking of a bike, I rode yesterday morning in my canyons in the dark. I did have my HID light this time (wouldn't have been able to see even an inch ahead of me if I hadn't!) and it was nice out, but I don't think I'll be doing that again. Mainly cause it was a tad eerie. There were folks up at that hour, some in their kitchens making coffee (I could see them through their windows, but none of them seemed to have noticed me), but mostly I felt as if I was kinda on my own if anyone decided to mess with me.

it can be really dark up in my neighborhood

I'm my mother's daughter, after all, and she warns me all the time about being alone and vulnerable, insisting that I had better "keep an eye out" (I always do). Well, Mom would just love this, but a van and a, what appeared to be, beat-up Toyota both passed me on one particularly dark, quiet street at a snail's pace, both with male drivers peering out through their cracked windows. I was climbing on a pretty steep grade at the time, so these two odd moments of having vehicles with strangers in them slowly pass me on the opposite side of the road spooked me. After both were gone and within a few minutes, I heard whistling around me that was definitely human, but couldn't determine through the darkness where it was coming from. That was enough for me! I turned around and descended quickly back down onto more well lite streets.

I was nervous that was real until I got right up on it...

Yes, I know - the man in the van was likely a security guy, and the man in the Toyota (or similar make vehicle) was likely a paper-delivery guy. I bet I spooked them more than they did me! As for the whistling, it could have been coming out through someone's window in one of those gazillion dollar homes. All very reasonable explanations, but none I could come up with at the moment I thought I was being targeted for abduction (sigh). I'm looking forward to Daylight Savings this year so that riding in the morning is a little less of an adventure.

I really do love this time of day - why would anyone want to sleep in!

reward for riding

That was yesterday. Today I ride at work on the department bike for a bit to meet my 30 Days of Biking goal. I will post a pic in Twit-ville this evening to keep it honest. I'm "one of those" who just has to prove I did it, as if saying I did it wasn't enough. That, and I'm a camera freak, in case you hadn't noticed. It's got to puzzle my coworkers to see me riding a bike taking photos of myself, but you got to do what you got to do.

Happy Friday.

nothing but a shadow

2011-09-07T19:28:00.000-07:00

Day 7, September 7, 2011

I know I have no right to complain about the heat out here on the west coast, especially considering that folks died in the southeast this past year due to horrendous spells of dangerously high temperatures. We So-Calers have really had it easy in terms of weather (well, until that massive earthquake hits, anyway). I still can't help but whine about it. When it's near or above triple digits out in the valley, I am just miserable. I only have a window unit, and it just can't cool my place down enough for me to sleep at night unless I sleep in my living room on my couch, which I hate to do. Tonight, I imagine, will be yet another disruptive round of slumber. Tomorrow is going to hurt.

this road is never this quiet except just before dawn...

This morning, while wide awake at 4:00, I decided to just get up, dress and ride to the gym. I like riding that early cause it's really dark out, and certainly cooler than when the sun is up. It is still really warm out, though, and I found myself to be a sweaty mess by the time I arrived in my gym's parking garage.

more bikes than I've ever seen at this time in the morning...

I was still half asleep, I guess, but when I attempted to lock Nellie up with one cable and a horse-shoe, I got all tangled in her gears and handlebars. In anger, I picked her up and tried to shake her loose from the cable I was holding. All I achieved from doing that, was to drop her right smack down and into my left calf.

it looks worse tonight but I'm too lazy to take another photo...

Thank goodness I'd rolled my black leggings down, or I think I would have bled. Hurt like a bitch anyway, and almost sent me into a screaming fit at an inanimate object. How crazy would I have seemed had I done that? Not that it would be the first time (nor the last).

I do like riding over to the gym, though. I get my cardio in and can hit the weights already warmed up. I wasn't there long this morning, choosing instead to ride down dark, sleepy side streets in a made up, longer route home. I need to get my light on my bike as it is just dangerous to ride without it, but pedaling through the morning air like I did today does have its appeal. I feel like nothing but a shadow passing over my neighbors' windows. It's only when I come across a street light that I am aware of how dark it is and how easy it would be for me to not see a pothole or a motorist to not see me! (light goes on from here on out)

But then, the sun comes up...just like clockwork, every single morning. Appealing indeed.

rode to eat dinner

2011-09-06T18:46:00.001-07:00

Day 6, September 6, 2011

It's bloody hot in the SFV at present, something I hate. Makes me miserable and happy-challenged. My legs were like overcooked rigatoni after yesterday's ride, and they never quite shook all that effort out today. The three combined (heat, sour mood & heavy legs) did not make for a ride of any much mention.

But that's the beauty of the 30 Days of Biking challenge, it forces you to get your ass on your bike every single day for 30 days. Thus, I forced the buttage up in the saddle and rode to eat dinner (it's way too hot in my apartment to eat, let alone cook). I then rode home.

Day 6, done.

the big, fat pear

2011-09-05T17:05:00.000-07:00

Day 5, September 5, 2011

Boys...love 'em. They play hard, balls to the wall, almost every time they are together. They are so not like me, being no nonsense, get 'er done types - athletic boys anyway, cyclists. And today I rode with three of them (pinch me!). Two are triathletes actually, but I aim to change that (in my fantasy). I'm a cycling freak, in case that isn't evident, so any triathlete I meet is just a hardcore cyclist in the making! (snicker) Now, let me just get to it...

heading out of "Swankville"...

Ron, uber-triathlete #1...

Tim, uber cyclist #1...
Bob - uber triathlete #2...

we just can't give the triathletes the respect, can we? (snicker)...

yes, Tim, we cyclists rule!...

Bob invited me over to "Swankville" to ride into Simi Valley via Santa Susana Pass, our usual, fun route (fast becoming one of my favorites). Bob also invited his imaginary cousin (who it turns out is real and jet powered on a bike) and a triathlete friend, Ron, whom I also I know from twitter. I was nervous about both showing up. I'm...um...substantial and...um...still working myself back into (cycling) shape. Bob doesn't seem to mind me "waddling" up a hill or two, but I just couldn't bear meeting two strong riders at this point. I keep pushing, I'm trying...but I'm not there yet. So, intimidation was the name of my game with respect to meeting these two fellas (who are also members of Bob's Monday night "hill party" ride, and whom he's described as "super strong.") I just didn't want to be the big, fat pear among a group of lean bananas (think about it).

they seem so mellow and not willing to push the pace, don't they?...

and um...who's in the distance?...

up Santa Susana Pass...

Ron came back down to do a hill repeat...and to ensure I was still breathing...

I needn't have worried (duh). Both Tim and Ron are sweethearts (like Bob). Yes, they are exceptionally strong on a bike (like Bob), but they also seem to be seeking rides with a little more of a social feel to them. Um...yeah! I'm their girl! I also push - like today when Bob was pulling the pace at 22-23 mph, and I kept up on his wheel. I was struggling at times to keep up for sure, but I can't say I didn't like it. I had to tease him though.

"Bob!" I hollered out behind him and Tim, while riding next to Ron (who was taking it real, real, real easy) "You're burning the pace at 22-23! I know it, cause I know what 19-20 feels like, and Ron and I have been at that speed until we caught your wheel! - so much for your recovery ride!"

"What?" Bob asked over his shoulder, looking both sheepish and mischievous.

"You know what I mean!" I gave him "stink-eye," and then turned to Ron. "Is this what he does to you on Mondays at the 'hill party' ride?" I asked.

"Does what?" Ron asked.

"Pushing the pace so fast!" I said with certainty.

"This isn't fast," Ron answered, with sincerity. The laughter that followed was infectious. Hey, no way I can match the speed of a pair of long, lean, 6'5" legs (Ron's), so what does he know! (snicker)

on the pass about to head down...talk to the hand...er...finger...

into Simi Valley proper - wide roads!

We rode over the pass, into Simi Valley, along wide roads and back. It's the usual, but it never feels the same, certainly not the climb over Santa Susana. We took a break at the golf course before heading back, and I was the one to cut it short (shocked?)

heading into the golf course country club...

Tim..chillin'...

on the way back...

yes, I was there...

"Okay, boys, let's go!" I hollered. I knew one of them had a time commitment, and I was determined to honor it.

"Well, there you go," Ron said. "She's rested, fed and peed - she's clear to go!"

Simi Valley in all it's glory...

someone in his blue shorts waited...

We all laughed at this as well. So true! I had bought a Gatorade and sucked down a gel, so I felt good! - not that this helped me on the climb back over Santa Susana. I bid Ron farewell, just before starting that climb, telling him - "Bob's gonna take you back, while Tim stays with me. I'm slow. But come join again on a ride. We'll have route slips, and you boys can go at your speed."

here is where the boys dropped me...like a badly microwaved potato (of course)...

He nodded yes and fist pumped me (knocked fists with mine) and was off. I sure hope he does join again. He's a really nice gentlemen for sure, with a mellow vibe and great sense of humor. Besides, as much as I love their company, the men don't have to babysit me.

Santa Susana Pass as my company...

someone did a hill repeat and waited for me..

I feel guilty sometimes. Bob is so damn strong - he, Tim and Ron could have burned pavement today had I, in my bubbly form, not been there. But then again, who would have taken their photos, teased them, and, oddly, mothered them. I think boys like girls to be along, personally - at least, that's what I'm hoping anyway.

down into Northridge...

Tim was my guide home...

treats after...

Day five, Labor Day, was fantastic with a group of wonderful men. As I sit here tonight with my quads happy to be relaxing, I am so grateful.

"a rich, thick mouth feel full of juiciness"

2011-09-04T16:41:00.000-07:00

Day 4, September 4, 2011

To Silverlake from my place and back, taking the most direct route, is 32 miles - and that is what I pedaled today. Linda, who just had a birthday last Tuesday, was with me, as was Debbie. We were heading to this very trendy coffee shop, Lamill Coffee, a place Linda had said she wanted to try. Debbie came up with the idea of riding there and treating Linda to brunch as a surprise gift. It was my job to map the route. Needless to say, it was good times had by all.

my riding companions with the birthday girl on the right in her new jersey (bd gift)...

the gorgeous skies above us...

through Toluca Lake...

The weather could have been cooler, but that would be my only complaint. My companions were their usual entertaining selves, and the route had just enough variety to keep us from getting bored. On the way out, I took us through Griffith Park and around the Silverlake Reservoir. On the way back, we took the bike path which was full of birds and fellow riders.

by the studios...

on Forest Lawn Drive...

in Griffith Park...

I felt great, my legs very strong, even though I was the social butterfly last night and didn't get to bed until after midnight. Amazing how quickly I recover from just about anything! The girls felt good too and seemed to like the route...well, except for one very steep hill on Lakewood.

I swore the route was flat (oops)...

Silverlake Reservoir...

Linda seemed genuinely surprised when we arrived at the restaurant, and it took us a good 20 minutes to mull over the coffee selections before we finally ordered. Lamill Coffee is a hoot, the menu written both way too seriously and with tongue in cheek (I'm assuming). I've never read coffee described as "a rich, thick mouth feel full of juiciness." But let me tell you, their coffee is just that! I ordered the Cafe con Leche with nonfat milk, even though the waiter said it was just too strong for him. With four shots of espresso, it should have killed me, but instead it sent me into the stratosphere, buzzing like crazy. Yes, it was that good, with just enough brown sugar stirred in to take the bitter edge off. I felt as if I were drinking a cup of crack.

cup o' crack...

sounds painful...

cheesy...

parallel parked...

Linda and Debbie loved their Valrhona Mocha and Vanilla Latte too. Their eggs were a bizarre shade of yellow, but they seemed to like them nonetheless. It says on the menu that they come from vegetarian hens. (Huh? I mean, aren't all hens vegetarian?) I passed on the breakfast offerings and ordered the Fiscalini Grilled Cheddar Cheese. Not sure who Fiscalini is, but his cheese was pretty damn tasty. I did not eat the chips that came with them, but did take a bite of the sour cherry scone that Debbie ordered for the table to share. It tasted more like a biscuit than a scone to me, not that there's anything wrong with that.

heading back in warmer temps...

discussing real estate in the gazillion dollar house area of Silverlake...

around the reservoir on the other side...

We got to ride all this "rich, thick mouth feel full of juiciness" off while pedaling the second round of 16 miles in the typical San Fernando Valley heat/wind tunnel. Heading East is bearable; heading West is not - it sucks. But after a quick stop at a local Chevron (where we met a very sweet family of three out riding) to fill up our water bottles with cold water and douse each other with it too, we were able to withstand the unforgiving sun.

on the LA River Bike Path...

lots of water in the river...

heading west to home...

It was a fantastic ride and day. Linda really did seem pleased, and I got my fourth day of biking accomplished in the best way...pedaling alongside good friends.

it isn't fair

2011-09-03T12:14:00.000-07:00

Day 3, September 3, 2011

I had hoped to play in dirt today, pedaling my fall-back route up through my hood to Mulholland to dirt Mulholland over the ridge to Topanga and back. Didn't happen. Since I am a grown-up, there are times I must behave like an adult - which means running errands on a Saturday once in awhile. I needed to take my car in to have the brakes fixed, the fronts ones, the ones that started squealing bloody murder two Fridays ago.

Apparently, when the brakes squeal, you should get your car into the shop as quickly as you can. Squealing is not bad, but grinding, what comes soon after the squealing starts, is bad bad. This is what the mechanic who fixed my car this morning informed me. I didn't drive my car all last week (took the bus over the hill to work instead), which was smart. My brakes were not grinding, and this new auto repair place (now the only place I will take my car) didn't slam me with excessive charges to silence all that squealing. Out the door, the front brakes replaced (on both sides) and an oil change was $208.

I got lucky - well, except that by the time I got the car back, it was way too hot to go riding up into the Santa Monica Mountains. So, no dirt. But I did ride. My plan was...none. I just jumped on Nellie and took off down Ventura Blvd. on the sidewalk mostly. I figured I'd ride to grab a quick bite and then maybe ride up in Fryman Canyon. That a way, I would get a little dusting but wouldn't have to commit to a longer ride. As I sat at the table of a local brunch spot, I dialed home. JT was who answered.

"I've got bad news," she said straight away.

"Mom and Dad are okay...?"

"Yes, they're fine. But, well," her voice trailed off before she spoke again. "It's David Baize. He killed himself this past Tuesday, shot himself in the car in front of his wife. She was driving, it's lucky she didn't crash."

Talk about time stopping for a minute. I sat trying to take a breath as my eyes filled with tears. "Oh my God, Julia. That is just terrible...terrible."

Julia went on to tell me over the phone why this tragedy could have happened, his depression over his karate studio falling on hard times with not as much business of late, his recent head injury, and a loss of a good friend. She also told me about the memorial service. Just so sad. He has three children and his wife, of course, who've survived him. Of all the people in the world to take his own life, David would never have come to mind.

David Baize was a man we'd known since we were little girls. Julia, three years my senior, was being bullied at school, so Dad decided to enroll her in karate. David owned the only facility in town at that time. He was in his mid 20s, a very striking young man, chiseled and exotic (certainly to me). I would go watch Julia in her classes (I never took karate myself), and over time developed a secret crush on David. He was intimidating and very serious about his students learning respect for themselves and others. But he was also a softy. He'd always grace me with a warm smile when I'd say hello to him. I suspect he knew I came to the school more to swoon over him than watch my sister slice her hand through the air at an invisible attacker. Julia adored him too, not so much as a crush, but because he was such a dignified, disciplined role model, one who instilled confidence in her, something she lacked at the time. In the past three years, she began taking karate at his school again, only he no longer taught. He was 56 years old when he died. Still a young man.

Needless to say, the conversation with my sister this morning took all the riding mojo out of me. Instead, I rolled away from the restaurant melancholy and deep in thought. Suicide is such a cruel death, and not for the one committing it. Those left behind have to fill in the blanks for what wasn't answered. It isn't fair.

Sorry to end this on a such a sad note, but that was my ride today. Tomorrow will be a more joyful entry. I have a friend who had a birthday, and I've mapped a ride to go celebrate with her and another friend. Then on Monday, I ride with Bob and his imaginary cousin. I write "imaginary," cause it's been three times now that Bob asks if it's okay if the cousin joins, but then he never does. I think I'm gonna start asking Bob if my (imaginary) brother can join too. That a way, the cousin will have company (snicker).