MyDogParty

it ain't easy being a lizard

2009-11-06T20:02:00.000-08:00

A week ago, I drove in rush hour traffic over to my reptile shop - the one I bought Boo from and the one at which the owners custom designed her new terrarium - to buy a new light bulb to replace the old one. It had burned out one morning, so it was imperative I drive that evening to replace it. Just so you know, these bulbs cost $75 dollars and only last between nine months and a year. They are also critical to a little dragon's good health. The right light provides not only warmth for the terrarium but broad UV light (the UVAB or whatever) as if to mimic real sunlight. Without it, dragons, who are cold bloodied and need sunshine to live, can fall ill quite quickly since sunshine helps regulate their metabolism, digestion, sleep, etc.

Well, at the shop, the male owner insisted that I only needed a 100 Watt bulb for Boo's terrarium, the one he helped design. His girlfriend, Ashley, immediately reminded him that Boo's new terrarium is 18" high - considerably taller than her old terrarium. He shook his head and said, "No. She needs the 100 watt."

"Um...are you sure?" I remember asking. "That new terrarium is pretty big."

"Positive," he replied, just before ringing me up and sending me on my way.

I should have followed my gut and insisted on the 160 watt bulb, but trusting him, I drove home to install it. Right away I was struck by how small the bulb was in comparison to the old one. I still trusted, stupid me, plugged it in and have had it as Boo's only source of light for a whole week.

At this point, you should know where this story is going, right? It involves the wrong light, one now-on-the-edge of being ill little dragon, and my losing my temper. I think I may have even had smoke come puffing out my ears I was so angry. You see, after seven days of crappy light (that didn't heat her terrarium at all), Boo has grown more and more lethargic, not eaten anything or pooped once. Also, she only blinks one eye (truly concerning) and has dark circles under her eyes. I suspected she wasn't moving at all during the day, so this morning, I put her on her branch and combed the sand beneath it smooth. Sure enough, when I got home tonight, I noticed that the sand hadn't been disturbed. This means my little Boo, who depends on me for everything including proper heat/light, didn't move at all today! That is truly upsetting to me.

With my blood pressure through the roof, I threw the light bulbs (old and new) as well as both domes into my car and drove through rush hour traffic again to my reptile store. Both Ashley and her boyfriend were there. When I walked in, without saying a word, Ashley immediately frowned.

"What is it?" she asked.

I was shaking mad. "It's not good."

"I can tell," she looked to the back of the store with a 'get your butt up her' expression to the BF.

I then went on to state (as calmly as possible) how upset I was, what was going on with Boo, what I suspected, etc. Ashley immediately tested the recently purchased light bulb and looked at the old one. Yup...wrong size light for the terrarium. Her boyfriend was very apologetic and said he didn't realize how low the 'low end' of her branch is. Then, without any argument at all, they replaced the light bulb with the correct one (160 watts). My balloon of hot, fury filled air deflated, and all is good again with the shop. But my having to drive over there tonight ruined my evening, for sure (hate the frickin' Friday night traffic out here). I really wanted to do other things the night before CAM 11 then drive to Burbank, but I couldn't fathom Boo going one more day without proper heat and UV light. As it is, I'm still worried about her.

Right now, I have her wrapped in her blankie and she's out like a light on the couch. Poor little thing. It ain't easy being a lizard, you know? Especially when all you have is a FatHead looking out for you.

it's become CHAM

2009-11-04T19:26:00.000-08:00

Herb got his ear bitten off recently by yours truly. I wasn't mad at him (rarely ever am) but more just grumpy and being pugnacious over our CAM ride this Saturday, which, like I said to Herb with utter disdain, "It's become CHAM - a chore a month." It's CAM 11 and, after that, we have just one more to complete the challenge. As what happened in 2007, I am so utterly over the challenge at present, the thought of riding 100 miles yet again this Saturday has my worn-down chamois all crammed up in my you-know-what (figuratively speaking). This is the one and only downfall to this type of challenge - the monotony of having to pedal 100 miles come hell-or-high-water every two to three weeks, which just so happens to takes the fun out of the ride.

I've already been giving 2010 a great deal of thought. I turn (gulp) 40 next year. I'm not a big "milestone" kind of gal, so it doesn't truly bother me. I'd rather turn forty than be dead. I just see no reason to wax sentimental over it either, although I will ask for the week off from work around my birthday. I want to take a trip and ride my bike somewhere I've never ridden in my lifetime. That's as "celebrate turning 40" as I'm going to get. But I do believe the realization that I'm finally growing up (well, somewhat) and entering a new decade has me reevaluating my priorities.

So, for cycling - priority number one is to ride my bike. Priority number two is to have fun while riding my bike. Anything less (fun) than that, and I'm out. I've never been a hard-bodied athlete, the kind that is disciplined enough to win a race (any race) or even be considered a serious contender. So, as my friend, Francis, always says, "Why suffer?" Besides, I'm too busy chatting, stopping to eat, stretching, taking photos and petting llamas to be bothered with actually pushing myself to best my or anyone else's time. Well, that and...I don't care. My being soft around the middle is no coincidence, by the way, and likely, I will always be a work in progress and never a shining example of accomplishment.

I can live with that.

Now, back to C(H)AM this Saturday - Herbie saved the day. We were going to ride up in/around the same area (Ventura, Carpenteria, Santa Barbara) again, but Herb came up with a local option, one that really appeals to me. I like the idea of starting from The Hub, riding out to East Fork (up Highway 39) and back, hopefully finishing by 3pm. I know the roads and somehow the thought of riding urban is cool to me. I just couldn't stomach the same coastal roads we've ridden several months in a row! I know, huh? Sounds so not like me...well, this is what CHAM does to me!

On another topic - work. I'm settling in, and I decided today that I really, really like it. I also like my boss. He happens to be one of the nicest I've ever had. He's involved me on projects where I'm writing and that thrills me. I like his direct reports as well. All of them are genuine, bright folks. I finally feel I've found a work environment in which I really am going to thrive and be a part of a team.

Oh, and I'm getting my schedule back. I'm really pudgy right now (no, really) and it's a good thing that I have so many places to exercise and so many healthy choices to choose from at lunch. Now, if I can stay the course - I have promised myself that I am losing this weight before I turn 40. I have five months. I have to do it. I don't want to enter the next decade feeling like I do. I'm not going to ever be skinny, but I can be leaner, meaner and less soft around the middle. Notice, I did not say flat-tummied. I gave up the idea of having a six pack by the time I was 12! But I can (and will) be better bodied - I just have to truly want it.

Hmmm...maybe I should file that under my 2010 goal page for my next entry. I need to get the goals down on paper (in this blog) to stick with them. I have two for sure - have fun and ride more dirt trails, lots more! Of course, if you think about it, that's one and the same goal.

asthma is stupid

2009-11-02T19:39:00.000-08:00

At the age of 34, just six months into my new-found hobby (cycling), I was diagnosed with asthma. Since then, I've had to report at least twice a year to various "pulmonary specialists" where I'm asked to blow out into a tube until I damn near pass out just so my breathing can be measured. Well, you know how some people are talented at both holding their breath and blowing? (take that as you will) - I'm not one of them. I can't blow a full inhaled breath back out out into a tube. I try and try, but I just succeed in blowing spit all over the tip of the tube and anyone standing within a few feet of me (like usually the nurse, who then hates me). I also, in panic, inhale right when I'm being told to blow (by that same nurse who hates me and who is wiping my spit off of her hand that is holding the tube I'm blowing into). I've annoyed way more than just one nurse and been told that I suck when in comes to having my breathing tested (okay, not in so many words, but close).

Regardless, somehow these specialists have all deduced that I'm a full blown, moderate to severe asthmatic. Whether it's my failure to blow into a tube properly or a real disease that inflicts me, I couldn't tell ya. But I can attest to the power of my "crack pipe" - you know, the little pipe I put a powder-filled capsule (Foradil) in and then suck that powder out of?

I may not be talented at exhaling, but I got no issues with inhaling. I can't hold my breath worth crap, but I can suck in a lot of air before leaking like a punctured tire. Apparently, that is exactly the kind of breathing pattern severe asthmatics display - an ability to inhale deeply coupled with the inability to exhale all of that air quickly (or in some cases, when death is involved, not at all). That's technically what's known as an asthma attack should the exhaling begin to impede the inhaling. I've been there and done that - it ain't exactly fun.

But, I'm not here to bore the drawers off you with all this talk of breathing. I'm more on here to just report that asthma is stupid. I've said it before (can't remember in which entry over the last year) and I repeat it now cause, really, it is. Can you think of a dumber (and less convenient) disease to have? Asthma packs no real punch unless it kills you, and rarely are those deaths often or dismal enough to evoke mass sympathy toward the disease. How many charity runs/walks/rides are dedicated to this disease? I do know of one, the Lung Ride, that is a charity event, but it's about the only one, and unlike cancer, diabetes or multiple sclerosis, no one seems all that bothered that there is a huge majority of us folks in this world who can't exhale all the air out of our lungs which in turn could potentially kill us. And I know from personal experience, that those living asthma-free have next to zero empathy when we asthmatics complain of poor air quality, heat/cold sensitivity, allergies or absolute intolerance of strong irritants like cigarette smoke and perfume. We're either considered whiny or worse, overly dramatic.

From airpurifiers.com

Thus, this stupid disease not only affects our day-to-day breathing, but we get very little understanding and patience from others for the times when we can't breath or when we yawn repeatedly and uncontrollably cause we can't get the damn air out of our lungs (I suffered this today during a very important meeting at which my new boss was present and could see me desperately trying to stifle yawns - if only I could have explained to him that it wasn't boredom or lack of sleep causing the yawning, but my stupid asthma!) Sigh.

Oh, and I'm yet again quitting a steroid inhaler for which I paid $20 (copay) recently. It's called Aerobid and it's just like Advair - including the side effects: hoarse voice, scratchy/sore throat, headaches, dry mouth and nervousness. I get all these side effects with inhaled steroids and have fought with my pulmonary specialists for years over taking them. Basically, I refuse. My recent visit to my latest pulmonary specialist was a fluke in that I somehow agreed to try this new steroid inhaler - the Aerobid - yeah...that was a huge mistake!

I was crying into the phone tonight into Herb's ear (he's asthmatic and can totally relate to all of this) that I'm never taking another steroid inhaler again. I'm one of the very rare folks in this world (the 1% apparently) who suffers side effects from the inhalants, and I'm tired of it. Just after a few days, I'm already losing my voice and the headaches are awful. Then...there is the fear of oral thrush (google for images if you have a strong stomach) that is brought on by use of these steroids. Yeah...that's oh so much fun. Imagine having a mouth and throat filled with a cottage cheese type coating that no matter how much water you drink, never goes away. And to really freak yourself out, take a spoon and scoop it out, only to have it reappear in a matter of an hour. Yum.

I dealt with the thrush (which took several rounds of lozenges and months to clear) and other symptoms back in 2005, and I am NOT doing that again. So, tonight I toss the Aerobid in the trash (bye, bye $20) and just keep puffing off my crack pipe while praying that my stupid asthma doesn't actually kill me. Of course, when I'm out on a bike, a car is a much bigger threat than dying from a sudden inability to exhale. Therefore, I'm not going to sweat it. Besides, there are far worse things in life than being unable to blow air into a tube (again, take that as you will).

I did the unthinkable

2009-11-01T14:45:00.000-08:00

This weekend did not work as I had planned. That is not to say I'm upset, just a tad perplexed. Also, I watched Paranormal Activity last night. I was more freaked out by it than scared - but either it was the images from that movie (affecting my sleep) or the time change, but I'm all kerfunked today (not sure that is the right spelling or really, the right word). Before I get ahead of myself, I'm going to rewind and start the weekend from the beginning and work up to now (as I sit on my butt on the couch without a coffee table). After all, beginning to end is the only way to describe it!

Yesterday

Woke up ready to ride dirt. Not sure what's up with me lately, but dirt is infinitely more interesting than road these days. Besides the obvious (no cars), it makes me madder than hell. Really, it does - it's challenging in ways riding on paved roads isn't. Mainly cause I suck at it. Do you understand that? It's kinda like when you're really good at softball and can play it without much effort and do really well. Then, someone asks you to play a round or two of tennis. Same thing, really - hitting a ball and running, right? Well, no, it's not, and you really suck at it. Your breathing is off, you run sluggish, you struggle and eventually you throw your tennis racket in a sudden, uncontrollable fit of anger...only to do it all over again with glee when someone invites you onto the tennis courts again.

That's what mountain biking is like for me. Only, I don't throw my bike (puh-lease, I'm not that bad). But I do routinely throw temper tantrums that go something like this: pedal, pedal harder, puff, struggle, try to power through, stall out on a hill, try to get clipped back in, can't, and after catching breath, yell, "God d@%#&*! You m*^&$#%{@%&@#*, piece of s@%^!" at ear splitting levels. Those who ride with me ignore me. Good thing they do.

Anyway, yesterday was a mountain biking kind of day, and it was just Herbie and me. We decided to ride Malibu Creek State Park. He's never been and I've been craving those single tracks and such ever since I rode there with The Pink a month or so ago. So, when Herb picked me up at 7:45am to head out there, I had a plan in mind. We'd ride from Lost Hills Road into the park (on the single track Karen showed me), over to both the lake and the Dam and then up Bulldog Trail to the abandoned house and back (thus, not fully finishing Bulldog which is roughly 4.3 miles up). I had plans in the evening and needed to be home earlier rather than later. 18 miles with 2,000 feet of climbing was really all I needed.

When we arrived at the the park and jumped out of Herb's truck, we were stuck by the cold air in the canyon. Malibu is chilly in the early AM and then warms up to a toasty, almost unbearable heat just before noon. It's maddening in a way, cause no matter how you plan, you are never prepared for that kind of temperature jump in a matter of three hours. Herb and I sure weren't even though we knew it was inevitable (after all, we've ridden the roads out there plenty and it's the same on pavement as it is on dirt!) We threw on our arm warmers and without too much delay, took off on the dirt path out of the park, the long single track that cuts through the hills and into Malibu Creek Park from the side.

On this first part of the ride, you're treated not only sections of single track, but wide fire roads with steep, rutted climbs as well - all with stunning views of the hills before you. In the early morning, riding out along those trails with an overabundant sun in your eyes and only the rolling, grassy hills to soften the glare, it is truly a sight to behold. I catch my breath in awe several times along that trail, and that's saying a lot since I've seen a lot. But Malibu's beauty is unique albeit lazy. It's up to you to discover it, as it won't make any effort to draw your eye. Go out there to ride, and you'll get my exact meaning here.

Herb had never been to Malibu Creek State Park, and I was thrilled to be leading him there. I like to "deflower" cyclists on routes (sorry, my crude way of putting it!). It's fun to watch the enjoyment and discovery they experience as it brings me back to my own first time on any ride I've completed. Malibu Creek State Park holds a special place in my heart since I've not only ridden there, I've hiked it (many times in the few years just prior to my taking up cycling). I love those trails, and I suspect even more hidden paths are to be found within that park for anyone willing to explore. I was curious to see if Herb would find as much beauty there as I do and if the "rock garden" would challenge him.

The "rock garden" is a literal creek bed filled with rocks of all sizes as well as boulders that seem impossible to ride over. Let me just intersect here - a group of shockingly fit mountain biking men rode past us through the "rock garden" as if it was smooth rode (we pulled up onto the side to let them pass us). I was floored at their skills and hope that's me someday! Herb rode most of the garden himself and, although frustrated with having to unclip at times, impressed me. I rode some of it, but mostly I kept only one foot clipped in and then rolled the rest with my other foot pushing off from various boulders.

Once past the "rock garden," we arrived at the old M*A*S*H Set (what's left of it). I thought Herb would be thrilled, but I don't think he was a M*A*S*H fan or simply not interested in memorabilia - he would not let me take a pic of him on one of the rusted jeeps! Oh, well. I dragged him to the lake and second Dam too -neither really thrilled him. I then decided that the only thing left to do was to make him suffer. I then got us started on Bulldog.

Bulldog is a trail that winds it's way up, getting steeper and steeper toward the top, for about 4.3 miles. I'm not sure what's up there, but there use to be, halfway up, an abandoned brick house. It was a favorite among hikers and bikers alike. It was a mile-marker and object of much debate, myth and intrigue. I was so looking forward to dragging Herb up the hill in the then excessive, over-exposed heat to this abandoned house, hoping it would interest him. Well, as luck would have it (as we finally arrived at where the house should have been), it is no longer abandoned...but demolished. Crap. There went the cool stone house on the hill.

We decided to turn around there anyway. I was fatiguing in the heat and, another crap, I'd rammed my calf into my pedal just prior to our turn-around spot. It was at that point that Herb whipped out his "first aid baggy" full of very old first aid supplies. I made fun of him mercilessly since really all he could do to stop the bleeding was...nothing. I shouldn't poke fun here as, after all, I don't even carry a first aid kit!!

At that point with my leg bleeding, my head beginning to hurt (due to heat, I'm sure) and my stomach growling, it was time to go back. I got no resistance from Herb, and down we went (covering all the climbing we did!), back to the "rock garden", over to the side trail out of the park, along the single track and to the truck. Phew!

Great ride for sure. I love that trail and want to do it again and again and again - only next time, all the way to the top of Bulldog! I just didn't have time as I had plans in the evening (for Halloween). And, speaking of, Joannie and I had dinner, a libation (or two, but who's counting) and watched the movie I describe as freaky. Ghost/demon stories freak me out but slasher/torture films disgust me. It was a relief watching a film without any gore! And, as usual, hanging out with my sweet, charismatic, exuberant friend was the real treat.

Today

I woke up this morning sore and tired. Not sure why. I mean, the ride yesterday was tough but I've ridden tougher. I think it's still just a combo of schedule, new workouts, etc. that are adding to my lethargy. I did not feel like riding and certainly not a challenging mountain bike ride with The Pink. I decided to opt out (or give her an option to do so, which she took). I just couldn't imagine being out in the sun all morning trying to keep up with her when I had zero leg strength.

I made the right decision, too. I found this out just riding over to my local farmer's market and having breakfast. I was slow, heavy on the saddle and in no mood to be social. The farmer's market didn't help since there were so many parents with babies in strollers crowding the produce isles and raising the tempers of those of us already heated by the midday sun. I got nothing against your baby, but please watch where you're rolling that stroller and be considerate of others! It is shocking to me how many parents just use their child in a stroller as an excuse to pay no attention to others, as if they are given some inalienable right I'm not allowed as a single, childless woman since they are rolling a "mini-me" around in front of them. It took a great deal of patience not to pick (and win) a fight with a couple of those rude parents, I can promise you.

As it was, in my hurry to depart the stroller-toe-crushing mayhem, I bought three cookies, skipped the produce crowd fiasco and high-tailed it out of there. Three cookies is not a healthy breakfast! (albeit delicious) Nor is riding all of two miles back home a comparable workout to burn off the calories gained from eating those cookies, but there you have it. I just didn't feel like riding any farther, and my quads were in full agreement.

It was then "putz" around my place all day, find a spot for Stephen's trunk (that I'm never parting with willingly) and head out to Urban Home in the Sherman Oaks Galleria. I found a coffee table there last night while out with Joannie (after the movie - a little late night shopping). It is on sale and offers ample storage (with sliding doors on top). I slept on it (so, no impulse buy!) and decided today that I couldn't resist. I need more storage here and I already know what will go inside the unit. I called Mom, and the little sweetheart encouraged me to get it (I love my mom) - she knows I've been looking for something that doesn't cost an arm and a leg but offers more storage space. Plus, it is very cute and will go perfectly in my apartment! I pick it up next Thursday.

Now...my last report on this weekend, and one I'd rather not give. I did the unthinkable today and stepped on Boo. Yes, you heard me correctly. I.Stepped.On.My.Dragon. She survived but it was a drama, let me tell ya! I let Boo out today, setting her on the carpet to wander around. She just stayed put where I put her (she does that sometimes to my surprise). I was then moving stuff around and figuring out where the trunk would go and how it all would all look, when I backed up and stepped down...onto something squishy. I immediately threw my weight onto my other foot and almost fell over myself. I knew instantly what was beneath my foot! I then rushed to get down beside her and check her out, completely panicked.

After much examining and watching her all afternoon (including in her bath), she's physically fine (although her feelings have been terribly hurt). No broken anything or problems that I can tell, and she moves just as fast, with ease, etc. But for a good 20 minutes, her beard was pitch, pitch, pitch black. She stared at me in an accusative way as if to say, "You swore you'd never hurt me." I balled like a baby and pet her profusely (I'm sure that made it worse), all while cooing to her. I would have never stepped on her on purpose, of course, and was very angry with myself. She can't cry out so, really, I have to watch where I step and be mindful - stupid, stupid! Poor little thing. It seems to be forgotten at present as she is all snuggled up into her blankie next to me on the couch, but I can never allow that to happen again. I'd be inconsolable if I ever truly harmed my little Boo. Sigh.

Well...that's my weekend. Another work week ahead and then next Saturday- another 100 miles (to complete CAM 11). I'd better get lots of rest this week and keep my diet clean. I would really like to enjoy the next century ride and not suffer like I did on the last one!

love you, Steveareno, and I miss you

2009-10-30T20:07:00.000-07:00

Wow...has it been a year already? I wrote this about Stephen last October 30th. Sums it up, and by the way, today he'd have turned 41. I must say, selfishly, that if he were here tonight I'd have vied for the opportunity to take him to dinner (my treat now that I'm employed) and then spent the whole evening talking about myself and my new job and my new exercise routine and my new desire to lose weight and my, my, my (me, me, me).... Hey. At least I'm honest. And you know what? He wouldn't have minded.

I really miss Stephen.

On another topic - I'm going quasi-vegetarian. That means (exactly), no beef, pork, chicken, turkey, duck, buffalo, lamb or lizard. Well, okay, lizard was never on my menu (Boo can attest), but I threw that in for emphasis. I will eat eggs, cheese (dairy) and seafood. Oh, and I'm not going to worry about rennet or chicken broth in soup. Why, you wonder? Cause it's better for the environment and I just want to. I've done so for the last few days and it's so easy to do.

I will admit that I've been very gassy for the last two days. I only share that on here as #1 you can't smell it and #2 it's part of adjusting to the increased intake of veggies & fruit. My body has to adjust to all this healthy eating. I mean, I was already pretty health conscious anyway - but taking out the chicken, beef, etc. and replacing that with tofu and beans - you got ignition! Eventually, my system will settle (or I'll be given yet another new nickname).

As for work and this past week - yeah. See how much I've been blogging? Balance has not been struck yet. But with next week's daylight savings (so, early morning workouts will be easier to swallow!), I should be golden. Also, no more 'fun times' on a school night. I hung out with Joannie and a pal this past Wednesday and stayed out way, way, way too late. Bad call. I felt like crap on Thursday and am still not 100% today. No more of that even though I loved every minute of it. Can't afford to. At least not until I've lost some (major) poundage and have a routine rock solid.

Other than that, I got nothing. Wait! Boo! She's fine and adjusting to my being gone - and she loves her new tricked out terrarium. All is good in Boo Land - except I do have to find her a babysitter for when I'm visiting back home in December (gone for like 14 days!). I can't bear to take her to Cricket Camp again. She'll be uber traumatized. Anyone love dragons who can help me out??? Boo will love you forever and that's worth it's price in gold - take it from me, a bona fide dragon lover!

Boo and Fathead playing "areoplane"

Boo doing what she does best...posing (basking)

he so can't lie well

2009-10-25T18:48:00.001-07:00

I was annoyed when my rather shrill alarm clock (is there any other kind?) bit me in the ear this morning. Stupid alarm clock and stupid morning. I was in the middle of a delicious dream that had me with a skinny, long-legged figure sitting in the sun on some beach talking to various friends whose heads were morphed onto one body. In dreams, that's normal and not at all disturbing...in fact, if I could somehow repeat this morph in real life, it would save me a lot of time.

Anyway, my dream was interrupted so that I could get up and go ride. I'm not sure why I'm so tired this weekend, but the last thing I wanted to do each morning was get up. I did, however, want to ride. So...get up I did today and drag my 30 pound mountain bike down the stairs. I'm sure my neighbors want to kill me, cause this morning it was 'clunk, clunk, clunk' down 20 steps. I just didn't have the shoulder strength to hoist Nellie up high and carry her with any dignity. Sometimes, I just roll her one step at a time, much to the chagrin of anyone sleeping.

I arrived at Herb's on time and after a few minutes of him putting a special bar on Nellie (don't know the name) to make it so that she fits on his bike rack (I guess my bike frame is on the tiny side, although I don't see it that way), we were driving toward our ride destination, Stough Canyon. We were driving through thick fog too. So thick, that when I drove to Herb's initially, I had to turn my high beams on just to make out the road in front of me - spooky! But typical of California weather (fickle, fickle), the fog cleared the higher we got up into the Burbank hills.

At the top of Stough where we always park, it was sunny bright and already unjustly warm. Damn. We'd hoped to beat the heat or even to just get a respite while climbing with the fog cooling us and all. Nope. It had burned off of the hills above the city and up there it was toasty. We strapped on our helmets, clipped in and pealed up the first paved hill in a less than enthusiastic manner. Of course, Herb's quads were still smarting from all the climbing he did yesterday. I had no such claim to pain (or excuse to take it easy) since I'd cut the climbing out yesterday and escorted Lisa back to her place. The last thing I allowed myself to do today was take it easy.

Right out the gate and up the first, very steep, rocky dirt climb, I threw it into overdrive and powered past the section that usually whips my tail from the get-go. Yippee! I got up it to a landing and stopped to get my heart rate down. Herb passed me at this point, red in the face. Did I mention it was warm? I clipped back in and followed, never once having to walk any of the steep hills in the beginning. We did take a few breaks but not like we normally do. Mostly, we just pushed through and enjoyed the pretty views around us while our hearts beat to their own drums within our ears.

Herb had a right to complain today although he did not. He was tired, I could tell. But he managed to stay up with me (miss fresh legs) for most of the morning. I pushed hard and sweated buckets. Lucky for me, I wore my arm coolers (De Soto brand - best ever!) and put my normal pigtails up into Princess Leia buns. I looked funny as hell (not a real flattering look on my rather pronounced head and chubby cheeks) but it kept my neck cool. When I mentioned my choice in hairstyle today, Herb looked at me, wrinkled his nose and said as sweetly as possible, "I think you look kinda cute." He so can't lie well.

It was at the 'lawn chairs' section (that's what I've nicknamed it) that we were treated to the most dramatic views of downtown LA covered in the remaining blanket of coastal fog. I sat on one of the chairs but Herb remained standing just in front of me. The other chair was already taken by the boldest (and cutest) little lizard I think I've ever seen. I took a ton of pics of him (to show Boo later) and he didn't so much as flinch and he sure as hell didn't offer Herb his seat. So, Herb and I left him there, and the three of us enjoyed the views in silence.

The final stretch was easier as we were both warmed up. I was full of endorphins, too - which are my antidepressants and antipsychotics in one dose. I was grinning and yippeeing for no real reason. Guess I was just happy to be out there.

Herb said he was having fun as well - up until he fell over the side of the Towers fence. We'd ridden up there, sat for a brief bit (talking to some other folks out enjoying the trail) and when we mounted our bikes to ride off carefully from the ledge, Herb's handle bar caught the chain-length fence, sending him somersaulting over the edge. I heard him yell, "Oh, sh*t!", dismounted my bike and ran back up to help him. I was worried he would be badly hurt as it's a bit of a fall!

Luckily, he somehow landed on his feet not too far down and was okay other than a slightly bruised/sprained leg and hip. He could have broken his fool head or worse, so really it wasn't too bad. His bike was fine too, but he kept saying how stupid he was. I kept yelling at him to stop that. Honestly, it could have happened to me just as easily. I'm never riding up in that narrow section again after that happened to him. Knowing my luck, I would break my fool head and fall all the way to the very bottom of the mountain.

Once that scare was over, we descended without incident. My back tire did slippy-slide all over though. I got cocky and descended even faster than the last time. But truthfully, I never felt scared. I'm getting the hang of it, I think. My goal(s) for next year haven't been decided but I suspect it will involve some dirt. Nothing kicks my butt more! In fact, as I type this, I'm really tired. I'll be in bed by 8:30pm, I bet.

Tomorrow? - back to the grind and a run in the evening on the track (well, run/skip/walk/stairs/meander...whatever).

I'll be pudgy yet another day

2009-10-24T19:35:00.000-07:00

Wow...a whole week has gone by and not a single blog entry from yours truly. Dreadful (for me, anyway). I've not lost my blog mojo, I just have been so busy that by the time I get home, I don't have much left. It's the new job with the lingering "new job smell" that's doing it, although I am not complaining. I'm happy to have a job, for starters, and I like the one I've recently been hired to perform. But my schedule has changed drastically, and I'm back to 5:00am gym workouts (love it). This means early to bed, early to rise. Hopefully, I will adjust here soon and my blogging will resume.

My gig with The Examiner has to end, though. I'm bummed about it, but I just don't have the time to dedicate to writing meaningful articles about cycling. They need someone who eats/breaths/sleeps pedaling. As deep as my passion runs for this sport, I want to do it and not always write about doing it except from a very personal viewpoint...i.e. this blog. Articles take more time and consideration - time that I could be spending either on my bike or doing something that keeps me in the shape to be able to ride.

Speaking of...I rode today (of course). I didn't ride far or hard, but oddly, I'm tired tonight. After last week's century ride, I was craving something a little less leg-loaded, and Herb promised me but 40-50 miles with enough climbing to suffer but not enough to wipe me out for tomorrow's butt-burning mountain bike ride (yippee!). He did not disappoint although I didn't end up riding his route. I'll get to that in a minute.

First, the cast and crew: Herb, The Lobsters, Ron (who was visiting from Northern CA), Bill (someone I've not seen or ridden with in over a year or so), Rob and Tom. We all met at The Hub. I had intended to ride there but wanted a little extra sleep, so I drove. I was still late (as usual) and harried. Luckily, a couple of others were a little late, so the timing was fine, and we all took off as a group into the cool morning air. It was luscious outside today, and although a tad warm on the way back, perfect riding weather!

Our pace from the beginning was relaxed, no one in a hurry - nice! We chatted and rode along Riverside enjoying the morning sun's gentle caresses. I was trying out a loaner camera (mine is in the shop) and had the damn thing on the wrong setting all day. I got so few pictures out of the many I took, much to my dismay. But without knowing this (didn't discover as such until I got home and downloaded the pics), I had pulled ahead of the group and was snapping away with my usual pic-taking enthusiasm.

Now, I haven't announced this on here as I was asked to hold off, but now I have permission. Lisa, the prettier Lobster claw, is pregnant. Yup, she's gonna be a new mommy, and, in fact, was pregnant when she was side-rammed by a deer on Angeles Crest! Thank goodness her little bun was safe in her oven that day! - and what a testament to how tough she is.

Anyway, at present, Lisa is near 4 months in her pregnancy. She's dealing with morning sickness and new changes in her body. Riding a bike can't be comfortable for her, but she's determined to pedal. I understand that and encourage her as long as it's safe and she feels up to it. Today, she did not. Instead, she was tired, nauseous and hurting. Lisa will HTFU and push through for the most part and it wasn't until we'd climbed almost to Foothill Blvd. above Montrose that she announced the ride was over for her.

Her plan was to go grab a bite to eat (to settle her stomach) and to wait for the rest of us. As I stood on the side of the road watching her pedal up to me (and just prior to her announcing her departure from the ride), it struck me that likely today would be one of the last Saturdays she'd be riding for awhile. I really like Lisa and will miss her, but babies do take priority over cycling! So, I knew she was near turning around at that point and I had already decided that I'd go with her. I know...I'm not her or anyone's mother, caretaker or body guard. But remember, I was there with her (my contemporary, friend and peer) when the deer crossed the road. The memory of that dramatic experience has not left me, and the last thing I'd want is for Lisa to ride off alone.

However, let me state here - Jason offered to stay/go back with her. He and the other boys came back to find us (Lisa, Herb and I) at Goldstein's Bagels in Montrose. Jason was concerned for sure. But I told him to go ahead. I actually was looking forward to hanging with Lisa, drinking some coffee and just enjoying the day. So, the boys took off and that is exactly what Lisa and I did. We were joined by Alan and Vince, my two Brutos buddies I haven't seen in awhile (what a treat!).

The ride home (to The Lobsters' place) was mostly downhill and flat, and we took our time. It was warming up at that point but nothing unbearable, and the air seemed blessedly clear of any smog (although I'm sure I'm kidding myself!). I rode all the way to Lisa's doorstep, hugged her and took off back toward The Hub. It then struck me that I might be able to meet up with the boys on the way back, so I called Herb. Yup. They were just hitting the bike path home.

"You'd better hammer," Herb told me. Yeah, right....like they wouldn't wait on me - I know them too well! Wait they did (Jason said for 20 minutes, but I think it was more like 5) and hammer I did. Felt great too! Then, once I caught up with them at the end of the bike path, it was a simple retrace of Riverside back to The Hub. There I talked with and hugged Ellen and bid most of the men goodbye. I then joined The Lobsters and Rob for lunch at Portos. No food porn shots, sorry! But, oh my goodness, that Cuban food was good - always is. I tried a new sandwich today (not exactly diet-friendly either). It was sweet Cuban bread with ham, roasted pork, pickles, Swiss cheese, butter and mustard. Oh well, I'll be pudgy yet another day...heh heh.

Another wonderful day of riding with stellar company and weather. What more could I wish for...

okay, so what you're saying is...you're chicken

2009-10-18T06:22:00.000-07:00

I spent another Saturday night at home in my boxer shorts and a tank top, flopped out on my couch. I did pull it together enough to go get dinner and send a few emails, but other than that...I flopped. It didn't help that I didn't get home from CAM 10 (100 miles from Malibu to Carpinteria and back) until after dark. My dragon was already asleep when I arrived and not so thrilled about me taking her out of her terrarium, wrapping her in her blankie and petting her profusely while I stilled smelled like road-kill. I just felt so bad that she'd been stuck home all day alone (again) when I'd promised her yesterday morning that I'd be home by 5:00pm at the latest.

Anyway, Boo's and my relationship aside, I'm really on here to talk about CAM 10. It was a doozy, let me tell ya, and not in the way that leaves me grinning from ear-to-ear. Yes, I smiled quite often all day yesterday, but more in a grimacing kind of way in my delirious state near the end of the day. Simply put - I suffered. Herb suffered too (or so he said), so we were a pair of whining, wincing sad-sacks rolling along the coast with some of the prettiest ocean views I've seen all year (and that's saying a lot cause I've seen a lot!)

The very first issue of the day was timing. Herb pushed this ride back just a mere 15 minutes from a 7:30am to a 7:45am clip-in and departure from Neptune's Net on Pacific Coast Highway. While you might think 15 minutes is nothing, remember that folks often run late and all other types of sh*t happens. I had a flat back tire at the start of the ride for instance. Of course, I'm the world's fastest flat tube changer (for a girl, anyway...a girl who doesn't race and rides with men predominantly), so I had it fixed in a nano-second (six minutes). But then there were a few other hold-ups, so by the time we rolled, it was closer to 8:15am. Yup, we'd lost a good 30-45 minutes of our normal ride day time.

And we're off...

Early morning PCH...I love it!

Then, as luck would have it, we got a flat tire not but two miles from the start. That took another 15 minutes to change (I was not involved, although I learned later - the hard way - why it took two men so long to fix the flat!). Now...we'd lost an hour's time.

GT rockin' the Sol Cal Jersey....and knows it

Men comparing jerseys (from left to right - Kurt, Jason, Herb)

How many cyclists does it take to fix a flat? (Kurt in the foreground; Andy & Tom in the back)

The crew that had joined for the day's outing was Jason, Andy, Kurt, GT, Tom, Herb and me. If you've ever read this blog and my ride reports, you'll know who was in the back (slower) pack. The 'fast guys' dropped us before we even got off PCH and onto East Hueneme Road. Andy was leading the group, and Jason, who can drop any of us at any time all while flashing an innocent smile, chased him. GT and Kurt's tails perked up, and off they chased. Herb, Tom and I watched them go helplessly. Seriously now...I heard that they were pace-lining at 25 mph from the time they left us to the Shell station in Oxnard! No way I can do that pace on a century ride even on my better days. As it was, I did "push the pace," according to Herb, at 19-20 mph with the boys on my back wheel. I didn't feel as if I was pushing anything truthfully, but Herb told me I rode strong yesterday (well, in the morning that is). I'm still not convinced as much.

Tom, happy to be back on the bike

Along Naval Air Road

For one thing, yours truly has changed her workout routine, remember? I've been stair-stepping, running (okay, jogging, skipping, walking...whatever) and am back to lifting weights. I tore my lower body down on Wednesday morning and my upper body down on Friday morning. Word of advise here...don't do that the week before a century. Seriously. Why I did was basically cockiness (I mean, how many centuries have I ridden this year already?) and foolishness. I could have used fresh arms, back muscles and abs yesterday, trust me! Instead....I suffered.

Andy rockin' the So Cal kit...oh, by the way

By the time Herb, Tom and I pulled into the Shell station in Oxnard (where the fast pack was just about to leave), I could feel the dreaded fatigue that would stay with me all day already. I've ridden so many endurance rides of various distances, and I know my body quite well...well enough to know when I'm flat out screwed. At mile 17 on a 100 mile ride (okay, 98.5 miles, but who's counting?), one shouldn't be feeling the kind of weariness I was already experiencing. I decided to HTFU and keep my mind focused on pedaling. I knew we'd lost some time and my hope was to make it up through the flat Oxnard farmland.

Ventura Harbor

Along the Ventura coastal bike path

As we took off again toward the Ventura Harbor, we heard Tom cry out, "Flat!!!" Doh! Herb and I stopped and looked at each other with dismay. It wasn't Tom's fault, but we didn't have another 15-20 minutes to spare on fixing a flat. I decided to spring into action. I grabbed Tom's tire and got busy. I had it near changed when suddenly I realized how tight the tire seated to his wheel's rim.

"Why is this so difficult?" I asked Tom.

"It's because his rims are like Jason's," Herb chimed in before Tom could answer. "It's deeper than our rims making seating the tire much harder." (Lovely)

Nearly twenty minutes later, me cursing, all three of us pushing on the tire, we finally seated it in the rim. Tom had also announced that he had a loose (near broken) spoke. That's dangerous to ride on, so I insisted he go back from that point. He pondered the idea of going to a bike store so that he could continue on, and I snapped at him, "Tom! This is Herb's and my CAM 10. We don't have time for a bike shop!"

Now, let me state here. Tom is my friend, the sweetest guy and a big boy who can take care of himself. But riding a century alone after three weeks of the flu (which is what he was doing) is not the wisest choice. My telling him to turn around was partly for his safety as well as my desire to get moving and not have to worry about him. My reaction may have been a bit harsh, but it was from real concern for all parties involved.

Why he does this, I just don't know.

But like I told Herb yesterday, the last two CAMs for this year will be ridden without others along with us (i.e. Herb and I wait for no one but each other). Sorry, but these rides are a challenge and not social rides. Trust me, if you ever take on a CAM, by the month of October, you will be sick of it. If you weren't riding a CAM and just happened to knock out a century a month all year long, you might actually dig it. But the whole "got to do it to make my goal" thing can be exhausting. And when you are on these rides, you don't really like having to wait on others. You just want to ride them, accomplish them and be done. Do I sound mean? Yeah, well, too bad. I'm now into October, two more months to go of this challenge, and I'm getting sick of it! - I think my being a tad grouchy is warranted.

On Gubenator Canyon

After the climb...I was so tired here.

After Tom departed, Herb and I hammered again to try and make up time. Now, we had lost close to 1.5 hours! Really, I don't know why we felt such a desire to catch the fast pack. They were just going to drop us again later in the ride (which they did). But we hammered nonetheless, skipped the Casitas Pass climb (oh, thank goodness!), took on Gubenator Canyon (not a hard hill on a good day, but a miserable climb on crappy ride days....like yesterday), and arrived in Carpinteria before the fast pack.

Ready to descend into Carpinteria

As we stood in the shade waiting for the boys to round the corner into town where we'd have lunch at McDonald's, Herb texted Jason. The response back was that one of them had cramped badly on the Casitas climb, and that they had skipped Gubenator. This meant a short wait (and much needed break) at McDonald's until the boys pulled in, hungry and ready for salty-fried-goodness otherwise known as french fries. I'm glad we caught the fast pack (although I paid dearly for it later) cause lunch with the whole group present was a nice treat. It also led to some spirited conversation. It really started when Jason encouraged Herb and me to hang onto their (the fast pack's) wheels on the way back.

This made me laugh so hard! Married men calling their honeys...(from left around - Andy, GT, Kurt, Jason)

"You can do it," Jason said, with that innocent, slightly quizzical expression he wears when he's full of sh*t. "Just jump on [the pace line] and we'll all work together, taking turns [pulling] on the way home."

I think I may actually have rolled my eyes at him, twice, before responding. "You're full of it, Jason. I can't hang on your wheel even in a pace line, and besides, this subject is something I want to talk to all of you about. I'm going to say something that you boys won't like or follow, but I'm going to say it anyway..." I then went on to explain to those men that riding in a pace line is dangerous and really...well...foolish for amateur, recreational riders - like all of us! I explained that, although the pro racers at the Tour de France "do it," it does not mean that we should. I also addressed Jason directly by stating that, although he may be skilled at it, he shouldn't assume the rest of us are.

There was silence at the end of my (very genuinely concerned for their and my own safety) lecture. I was looking at Jason, who was looking back...now frowning somewhat quizzically. He said nothing, nor did the others - until, suddenly, Andy stood up and said in a way only Andy can get away with, "Okay, so what you're saying is....you're chicken."

GT, Jason gearing up to fly with Herb back behind them, not willing to follow.

The laughter that broke out from that one line was so infectious, I couldn't help but laugh too. It was, after all, funny...and so very true. Yeah, I am chicken, so what of it? Besides, as Herb and I remarked later...we can't even hang on their wheels when we try. So, really, Jason is full of it. I hope he reads this, too, so that he'll know just how much Herb and I laughed when he and the rest of them boys dropped us like badly microwaved potatoes pretty much within five minutes after lunch and a restroom stop. (Sigh)

Click on pic to enlarge and look at red circle...that would be the men dropping Herb and me.

Then...it was suffer, suffer, suffer...all the way back...a good 45 miles, might I add. The fries, coke and half a sandwich Herb and I shared did nothing for me. After all, I wasn't bonking yesterday, I was fatiguing, which is entirely different. To bonk is to mess up your fueling and hydration, something I rarely do except on brutally hot days (which was not the case yesterday, and actually it was quite cool in the breeze all day long). I know when and what I need to eat/drink that will keep my motor running. But every once in awhile, my wheels just stop rolling smoothly and I feel a fatigue that is deadly on a century ride. No matter how much I stopped and stretched or pedaled lightly in my easiest gear, my body just ached and, sadly, betrayed me. I wanted to be off the bike more than on it - and that is not like me!

This bridge in Oxnard both scares & delights me.

While some girls go get pedicures & wax jobs on the weekend...I get 'grimed.'

Herb was struggling too. I teased him later, calling him a "sympathy sufferer" since he really didn't start suffering until I did. I know his pain was real as I know him so well, but it's still so much fun to rib him! We've been riding partners for CAM now for 10 months, and we ride together on so many other various-distanced rides, we know each others' temperaments, strengths and weaknesses. Herb knew I was hurting yesterday, and since he was just about in the same boat, all we could do was forge ahead, make light of it and whine to each other. It's rides like these, shared between two friends, that are the most memorable, believe it or not. I was so grateful I had my true-blue buddy there to suffer with me! (Misery loves company, right?) Best suffering-whiner line all day came from Herb after a crow flew above and past us along the coast, "Geez, I'm even being dropped by a bird." Heh heh.

We kept a pitiful pace along the gorgeous coast as the afternoon sun caressed the waves, and the spirited seagulls danced in flight above us. Even with my dampened mood and aching quads, I was still happy to be out there, although desperate to finish. As we hit the final leg home along PCH, Herb got ahead of me, and I just let him go. I pedaled with what I had left, hummed to myself, snapped photos and swore I was never riding another 100 miles again. Surprised? Don't be. There have been other, equally miserable ride experiences, where I've had that thought and made that empty promise to myself. I tend to forget it by the time the next ride rolls around, of course, but for a brief moment yesterday afternoon, I wanted to throw my bike in the ocean and take up whale watching!

Like me...Herb's had it.

What a show these guys put on yesterday...glorious!

Afternoon coastal views along PCH

Oh, and I did discover in the last eight miles home that my front brakes were rubbing my wheel rim the whole day. Sheesh....that was likely a factor, too, in my overall fatigue, but I can't blame it all on that. Once that issue was solved (thank you, Herbie!), my ride was a little smoother. I also had a low back tire (not sure why). Regardless, I finished! Woohoo! CAM 10 done and in the books...with a less than desirable ride time, I'm sure (we finished at 5:30pm!), but it was accomplished. Now...two more to go.

Final home stretch...we can 'smell the barn.'

When we get to this spot...we know we're 'at the barn."

Last word on this - for anyone reading this who has never accomplished a CAM or even ridden a century - I encourage you to do it! Century rides are epic undertakings no matter how cavalier I may be about them. They challenge even us seasoned riders. After all, I have close to 70 centuries under my belt, and I still never know what lies ahead of me on any given ride. It's the adventure, the moments of doubt and discovery along the way and, yes, even the suffering that I crave. I ride these rides for social purposes, but mostly, the challenge is for me. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or so the saying goes, and that is never truer than when you are pedaling 100 miles to your next destination.

weeks that have wings

2009-10-15T19:51:00.001-07:00

My second week at a whole new job has just flown by, and tomorrow is Friday (TGIF). Seriously, I know that's a cliche, but if there are weeks that have wings, this week was one of them. I'm incredibly busy having come from being in a suspended state of complete lack of schedule. It's both a relief and a shock to my system.

As for the job, the second week has been a good one. I really like it where I now work and feel I've been there much longer than I have - which I view as a good sign. Most importantly, I really like the people. And even more important than that (is there a more important than a most important?), I like my boss. I hope to stay and I hope in a year's time, this new job will be 'old hat' for me.

As for my workouts, I did finally hit the gym on Tuesday. It was raining which caused difficulty with carrying a gym bag and clothes and I was distracted by things I didn't foresee. For one thing, the 'day' lockers (which cost $.50 to use) need tokens and the only way to buy tokens is with dollar bills. I figured I'd need change, so I had quarters out my wahoozit but not a single bill on me. Fortunately, the gym towel attendant (don't know the title of her exact position) very sweetly gave me a token ("...since it's your first time here and all.") I would have hugged her had there not been a desk between us.

Another kink was simply finding all the equipment and figuring out my routine...didn't take long. I then worked my legs (with weights), did over 500 jump rope rotations and worked my flabby abs - and I do mean FLABBY. My goal is to now perform 400 crunches every time I'm at the gym (at least 3 times a week if not 4!).

As for the rest of my week, it's been stair stepping (ouch) and long power walks. Tonight, I power walked into the village, ate dinner and power walked back. Once I get my gym routine (and getting up early) down, I plan to workout four days as week in the morning and power walk/run/stair step in the evenings. Oh, and as I use to do when working - night ride one night a week!

Speaking of riding, 100 miles await me on Saturday. Well, 104 but who's counting. I've already warned Herb that I'm likely to be a little lacking in the fast pace department. When my routine is off, my riding is too. Even still, I can't wait! Another century and this one I'll ride knowing I have a new career. It will kinda be a celebration ride!

On Sunday, I ride with Joannie. We're hitting some dirt somewhere and making a day of it. Can't wait for that, either. Then I can blog with a little more gusto! I've been remiss this week but mostly because I just haven't had time and have been hitting the hay earlier than normal. This won't last, my routine will settle and I'll be back to my usual self (well, somewhat).

nothing I couldn't maneuver

2009-10-11T17:55:00.001-07:00

Now....today. After yesterday's 54 miles, I figured I'd need to take it a little easy on the dirt today. Knobbies are always harder to pedal given the bike attached to them is upwards of 30 pounds. Add my weight to that (never you mind, just make an educated guess), and I'm working hard!

I'd planned a dirt ride with The Pink today and was hoping she'd go easy on me...and Herb, who decided to join as well. He was hopeful she'd go a little easy too, since he's just getting back to mountain biking after a bit of a hiatus. The Pink did go easy, the best way she knows how...by dragging us up a 4.5 mile climb straight out of the parking lot. This was in Thousand Oaks on a new trail (for Herb and me) called Cheeseboro Canyon Trail (pronounced Chezboro, by the way). It's actually a series of fire roads and single tracks in between Malibu and Thousand Oaks, and, oh my, it's pretty out there!

Today's weather couldn't have been better either, especially for the climbing. Mostly the route we did today was front loaded, which is how The Pink took it easy on us. However, we still teased her, telling her that we have a new phrase - "we got pinked" - which means that we followed Karen up some steep-ass hill that she basically flies up while we (me, in particular) suffers up in slow motion. Karen weighs as much as my left calf, remember? If all I had to push up the hill was the weight of my left calf, I'd get up it quicker. However, there's the rest of me attached to that calf. Sigh.

I say all this with humor, of course. I loved the climb, truthfully, and really only had to walk just a small portion (with thick sand). I also walked a little in some single track sections. I really enjoyed those single tracks, though, and kept telling Karen that. Herb dug 'em too and the both of us kept saying how much we needed to ride those exact kind of intermediate trails. Boulders were present and some nasty ruts, none of which caught me unaware, and I was sturdier than normal on most of the descents. There was a tad bit of exposure (a sheer cliff to my left) but nothing I couldn't maneuver.

Oh, and views...well, my pictures don't do them justice. That's the hard part about taking pics on dirt trails. The beauty can't be captured cause so much of the experience is visceral. No cars, just clean(er) air, the rustling of the wind through bushes, hikers, dogs, horses, my good friends and some well-earned dirt on my tires. Love it...and my bicycle.

get your butt up, dressed and out on your bike

2009-10-11T16:57:00.000-07:00

Herb had asked me last week if I wanted to ride his "Rim of the Valley" route this weekend, and I said yes. ROTV is a 70 mile trek from Burbank out to Sylmar, up some pretty canyon climbs, out through west SFV and back (a loop). It's not a very pretty ride for a good majority of it, cause one must ride Foothill to get out and back. Foothill blows - lots of cars, rude/clueless drivers and debris. However, La Tuna, Kagel and Lopez canyons are lovely. So, the mix in the ROTV route is like getting a crappy stale graham cracker smothered in warm Nutella. One forgets all about the cracker when Nutella is involved, if you get my meaning.

However, yesterday...we got very little Nutella and a whole mouthful of crappy cracker with respect to the route, not that I'm complaining. I was thrilled to be out there and so grateful I went at all. In fact, I wasn't going to.

As you know, I started a new job last week and like any new job, the first week took it out of me. Yesterday morning when my alarm clock buzzed at 6:00, I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to put a pillow over my head. I wanted to cry and feel sorry for myself. I'm not upset about the job (quite the contrary) but I was a tad frazzled and in a new-job-messed-up-schedule funk. I got up and emailed Herb, telling him that I wasn't coming. I then put that pillow over my head, although I did not cry nor did I fall back to sleep. I just laid there like a bloated, beached porpoise...pathetic. I allowed this pathetic-ness until 7:15am - the exact time my inner cyclist voice kicked in and told me to get my butt up, dressed and out on my bike.

Please pay attention here. No mater how fat, pathetic, sad, lonely, bored, miserable or just plain blah you feel - get your butt up, dressed and out on your bike. Why? Cause by the time the ride was over yesterday, I felt like a million bucks! I was a little tired, sure, but tired in the kind of way that I knew I had earned my sleep. Mostly, my body was buzzing, my brain clear. This coming week will be fine, and I'll again rise to the challenge of a new job.

As for the ride itself, the canyons were skipped. None of us (okay, I didn't for sure) wanted really to climb all that much. We just wanted to pedal...and eat. So, we pedaled...and ate. We would be Herbie, Lisa, Linda, Debbie and me. Yes, Herb had the women all to himself. Mark, Jason and Kurt had taken off on an 80 mile, butt burner, climbing upwards of 6,000 feet. They suffered. We didn't. Our ride totaled 54 miles with 2,600 feet, which still wasn't all that shabby.

Our lunch was In & Out burgers and fries (some folks had shakes, but not I) - not the riding fuel of champions for sure, but it was tasty. I mostly stuck to fries and a hamburger (no cheese). I also nibbled (gobbled...oh, hell...inhaled) chocolate chip cookies that Debbie treated us with (from Subway, where she and Linda got there lunch like little angels). I pray I worked those 2,000 calories off on the return potion of the ride.

After lunch, Kurt joined us on the return, dumping the idea of continuing on with Jason and Mark. He'd had enough torture for the day; plus, his lunch was rather substantial. He's really nice, and I like his sense of humor. Good thing he had one, considering I teased him twice that the double-double-animal-style burger he ordered might not have been the best choice for overall digestion, and perhaps a single cheeseburger, animal-style would have sufficed. But he's like 6'3," so he can more easily metabolize that full 2 pounds of beef, half a pound of cheese and quart of Thousand Island Dressing on a sesame-seed bun. I, on the other hand, would have mooed the whole way home with that stuffed in me...my single burger was almost too much as it was.

Kurt just laughed at my focus on his lunch (as if it was any of my business). He then promptly reminded me, twice, that he was riding the whole way back in his "big ring." Each time he announced this, Herb chimed in, "Me too, I've been riding in my big ring the whole day." He then grinned the size of his boast with Kurt joining him. They were like matching Cheshire Cats...oh, brother. Let me make it clear here....I did not ride in my big ring all the way back. Hey, I didn't need to suffer.

We fortunately had no mishaps (other than 2 flat tires) for the day, glorious weather (with no higher than 75 degrees, sunny skies and lots of cool breezes) and some wonderful news that I cannot share on here (just yet). I am so grateful I went...oh, I said that already, didn't I? Well, it's worth repeating. My riding companions made my day, and...I love my bicycle.

life can be so unpredictable

2009-10-09T21:56:00.000-07:00

I found out some news yesterday, news that breaks my heart. It's not about me, doesn't need to be...I'm still heart broken. Now is the time that I HTFU and be there for someone I love and wish the best for going forward. Life can be so unpredictable (NSS!). But in some cases, that unpredictability seems to laugh cruelly in the face of those who live through difficult times. I have been and still feel like...crying....sigh.

It's Friday night, and I'm about to go to bed. I'm so tired, I can barely type. Starting a new job is challenging and I have lots to learn. Today was not a good day. The week was a challenge and flew by - to say the least!

Tomorrow I ride, just not sure where or with whom. I'm going to try and get up at 6:00am to meet the gang by 8:00 to ride a route I love. But if I can't, I'll bail and ride from home. No matter what, I will ride! I need it.

Very short entry tonight (sorry), but no matter...I wanted it noted for my own reasons...

Boo's new, tricked-out terrarium

2009-10-08T20:42:00.000-07:00

Today is Thursday...tomorrow Friday, the day before the weekend. Now, normally, when I was working in the past, I'd have said "TGIF." I won't tonight, though, mainly because I love my new job. Yes, it's too early to make that proclamation, but I will anyway. Mainly because I have, after only four days, picked up the ball and ran with it. Today, my boss smiled at me in a way that could not be interpreted any differently than appreciation. He likes me already, although he isn't sure of me (nor should he be). I don't know him at all, but my willingness, experience, flexibility and efficiency has him (for now) satisfied in thinking that he made a good hiring decision (which he did). Oh, thank goodness!

This means, tomorrow (although very, very busy) will be a good, productive Friday. I'll have done pretty damn well for Week 1 at my new job and, then, I get to ride my bike. I'm riding with Herbie on Saturday, and we're doing Rim of the Valley (his route) - a not too difficult trek across the west/north valley. But since I started a new job, new schedule and new...well, most everything...it's going to kick my ass.

Not to mention the fact that I'm very fat right now (really). I've been eating healthy all week, but my sleep patterns and exercise have suffered just from the new schedule. Although, this evening I was determined to run (well, run, walk, climb stairs) for 45 minutes (and did). I needed it - not that my physical activity hasn't gone up exponentially! I walk so much more now, which I love. Still, I need to get to the gym (now, I have THREE to go to...sheesh!) and establish a schedule. It will come.

However, this week was:

1. Route to and from work
2. Get new membership at gym
3. Figure out schedule
4. Run errands (including pick up new 'Tricked Out Terrarium' for Boo)
5. Get use to new sleep patterns

Starting a new job is challenging (note: not using the word "stressful" for this one as that is how much I really like the new job), so this is to be expected. By this time next week, I hope to have reported on some serious gym workouts!

Tonight, I ran, as I mentioned. Well, okay, "ran" is...well...lying. I climbed stairs (almost kinda harder, if you ask me) and ran one lap around the track. I forgot how buttery smooth and marshmallowyish a track is (combined with my new shoes and I'm running on clouds!). I dug it but had zero stamina. Well, I did run up eight sets of 40 stairs, two at a time. That's 160 up and 160 down (almost harder if you ask me than running laps around a track!). My ass is going to be killing me tomorrow, but it felt good (in a very painful kinda way) while doing it. More of that, please!

Now, since I have got to go to bed! - on to the next (and more important topic), Boo's new, tricked-out terrarium....yay!!!! I got it.

I measured (so as to fit to the little Japanese style, antique table I inherited), ordered and got (finally) Boo's new digs. She loves her new lair, too. Seriously. She was so ready to sack out when I got home at 6:30 tonight, so I put her in her 'blanky' on the couch but with her facing her old terrarium. I then switched it out with the new one, poured in sand, put in the new, 'tricked out' branch she gets to climb on (forwent the tunnel as Ashley from Scales & Tails swore to me that Boo would prefer climbing the new branch) and her bleach-cleaned water/food bowls. No, no disco ball (yet), but that's coming!

Did I mention, she loves it? She watched me very intently, totally awake (although ready to pass out minutes before I brought in the new terrarium) and eager to get off the couch. So, I put her in it. Guess what she did? Climbed right up the new "tricked out" branch! Ashley was right. Boo seemed shell-shocked but in a good way.

I'm so relieved. Believe it or not, I love my little cold-blooded-non-cuddly-no-tail-wagging-worm-breathed critter! Oh, and now you can add "roach-breathed." Yup...fed her a roach (not the garden variety but a specific desert roach that's on her menu from Scales & Tails) this morning. Boo didn't know what it was, but after much consideration, she attacked that roach with a furor I've never seen in her before. Now? She will be served roaches (ewww). Apparently, they are very good for bearded dragons - kinda like Filet Mignon to us, only minus the cholesterol.

this is pic of said roach

this is a breeder roach (no, Boo will never get/eat a roach that big!)

Anyway, here are more pics of Boo in her new home (and on her new branch) for your viewing pleasure. I have got to get to bed! Another stimulating day tomorrow...and for that, I need my rest.

Up on her new branch!:

I'm moving my butt in every which direction

2009-10-06T20:23:00.001-07:00

Yes, I forgot (a tad) what it was like to be on a working schedule. More importantly, and very odd, I was actually less active being unemployed than employed, even with more time to ride my bike. Go figure. Now, I'm moving my butt in every which direction. Granted, it's a new job and where I'm working is walk/bike friendly (with lots of steps everywhere and hills), but still - I'm not use to all this walking/moving!

And since Sunday, my legs have been challenged in ways they are not use to. Sunday, I decided to try out my new running shoes and ran for a good three miles...just like that...ouch. In between all the running, I power-walked up hills, making for a near 2 hour workout that desecrated my legs. Then, I started a new job on Monday and walked all the hell over everywhere, and today, again...walk, walk, walk, including a rather formidable flight of stairs (no, really, if I actually walk all the way up them, it's exactly 100 stairs - imagine walking those twice in a day which is my goal!) Walking and running are not cycling, lest you forget, like me, who'd forgotten. My legs now hate me.

My head hates me, too, almost worse than my legs do. I have been challenged to learn the names of many people who all wear name tags. You'd think that would help, but it doesn't. My department alone has over 25 people and we're connected to another department with how many employees, I just don't know. I've yet to get a full Org Chart (no fault of my coworkers; both Monday & Tuesday have been hectic). I've had trouble completing full sentences and speak at times as if I'm slurring (no, I am not drinking on the job!). I've apologized and cracked jokes, hoping to disguise my embarrassment. Mostly, I've just been humble and at the mercy of folks I just met.

Lucky me - so far, every person I've met has been more than willing to help me. They want me to succeed, and I will. But the initial new job smell has yet to wear off, and I really don't expect it to for at least three months. I'm realistic...learning a job takes time and already, after two days, I'm tired, sleepy by 4:00pm and feel as if I keep turning my head suddenly only to have my rather prominent nose slam into a wall (figuratively speaking, of course). Sigh...this too shall pass.

Now, given that it's 8:30pm, and I have to get to bed to get up at 4:30(ish)am to get to the gym, I am am simply going to list the pros of my job. No, I'm not listing any (perceived) cons. That would just be silly and self-sabotaging. No job is perfect, let's face it, and I don't expect this one to be. So, I will focus only on the positives, as they most definitely outweigh any (perceived) negatives!

1. It turns out that there is a secret way to work. It's a canyon road that dumps me literally into my parking garage where I work. It takes 12 minutes to travel the entirety of this canyon, making my commute to and from work less than 20 minutes...sweet. Oh, and in the daylight savings months (lighter at night), I intend to commute by bike!

2. My coworkers are (genuinely) rooting for me, helpful, down-to-earth, and very nice.

3. I like my boss. No really - I do. I like his wit, patience and direct nature. I have a feeling that once I chill out (and know my job better), he and I will make a great team.

4. I pay next to nothing for lunch...honest - next to nothing. I'm going to save a ton of money.

5. I get three weeks vacation per year - three weeks, and not two like most companies.

6. I get a track and several gyms to work out at for a ridiculously cheap fee. I plan to use all facilities, including the tennis courts (I'm going to drag Joannie up there cause she likes to play tennis)

The track is lit nicely at night!

7. I have a job...nuff said!

I now work 8am-5pm which I'm not use to. I've almost always worked 9-6, but personally, once I get the schedule kink worked out, I like this better. I plan to get up two days/week between 4:30 and 4:45am, drive over the hill, workout before work, get ready at the gym and walk to the office. The other three days, I'm going to run at the track and ride my bike after work (night rides!). Weekends, I ride my bike. I realize that I will need a day of rest, so likely one of those "runs" will be a walk like tonight.

Tonight, I walked through my old 'stomping' grounds where I lived and worked when I was in my 20s. I loved it there and now revisiting, I'm floored by the establishments that have survived over the years and those that have folded. Then, there are the new places. Lots to explore and I can't imagine that I'll get tired of walks anytime soon.

Okay, I'm off to bed. I'm going to be tired until I adjust and my schedule is set and rolling. I'm happy to be back at it, believe it or not. I like people and having daily interaction is actually healthy...or so they say.

people get skinny when they run

2009-10-04T12:35:00.000-07:00

Well, what do ya know. Beautiful, crisp weather here in southern California, and I sit nowhere near or on a bike saddle - nor have I all weekend. Boooooo! Stupid cold-allergy-funk-in-my-face thing. It's like I got this pressure in my sinuses, and my eyes keep itching as if I have a cold. I've been like this since Friday, so I forwent riding a memorial ride (followed by a few miles in a canyon) with the gang yesterday, and then I canceled on riding with The Pink this morning. I just didn't feel up to snuff either morning and have yet to beat the lethargy. In fact, I have mostly sat on my butt other than running a few errands this weekend.

these are the skies we got going out here - finally, cooler weather!

Sort of a let down to be like this the last two days before I start my new job, huh? I'd hoped for at least one epic ride, either on the road or up on dirt trails, but I couldn't risk it. If I am on the verge of getting really sick, I didn't want to push myself more over the edge and then be a mess this coming week at my new job. I may just be suffering allergies from all the crap that's been whipped up in the cool winds we've got blowing out here. Oddly, even without the heat, there is yet another wildfire burning in the San Gabriels. I'm sure the ash from that is circulating in the air, and maybe that's the culprit behind my feeling like a worn-out potato sack.

No matter - I'm still in high spirits. I had a nice dinner at home with a friend last night and watched a couple of good films. I need to do some research and write an article, but honestly, I felt too crappy to do either. I am even aware that my writing on here is uninspired at present. I can't be like this tomorrow! I'll have to be high energy and focused. I hope I will be after a good night's rest and lots of caffeine.

As for my errand today, I drove over to pick up a brand spanking new pair of running shoes. I bought them from the shop I have bought running shoes from for over eight years now - Sneakers Warehouse in Encino. The shop is owned by a very sweet man (with an accent - I think Italian) who is a passionate runner. I teasingly call him the "Shoe Nazi," because he insists that a person buy a pair of shoes based on his/her exact feet and his 'expert' observations of said feet.

His observations come from him asking you to walk barefoot across the store while he analyzes your stride. Me? I'm flat-footed, like a duck, with zero arch and terrible over-pronation. He has told me this consistently for over eight years. I, of course, could have told him this without him having to tell me...but I walk barefoot for him all the same every time I go there. Humoring folks is something I'm quite good at it seems.

"You have no arch," he said (again) today.

"I know."

"Your feet are completely flat," he added, shaking his head in disapproval as if I had somehow shown up with my flat, duck feet even after he specifically told me not to.

"I know."

"Here is the shoe I recommend for you," he announced with great reverence while handing me some handy-dandy running shoes with big bubbly heels on them.

"How much?"

"For you? Half price," he said, while tilting his head and nodding his entire upper body in a kind of European bow.

I never ascertain from him exactly how much the shoes cost before he says that he's giving me a half-off deal, so I haven't a clue whether I'm getting a bargain or not. I just buy the shoes and, so far, he's never sold me a pair I didn't love.

check those babies out

Now, you may be scratching your head here, wondering where the hell the cyclist who normally blogs on here went, and who's this new runner who is boring you with all this talk of new running shoes. Well, I'll have you know, I'm one in the same. I use to be a runner...a crappy runner....but a runner nonetheless. I even ran some 10Ks (hated them) and 5Ks (hated them too but not as much as the 10Ks) in my early 30s and on the track (for fitness only, no races) in my early 20s. I was as crappy a runner in my early 30s as my early 20s, only I had better shoes - thanks to the Shoe Nazi. Today I bought new shoes, because I plan to start running again on the same track I ran on when I was 20.

Why run? Because people get skinny when they run, and I want to get skinny. Or at least, skinnier than I am at present, and clearly, cycling ain't cutting it. I do not plan on not cycling, nor do I plan on making running anything other than a weekday fitness activity - but regardless, since I haven't bought new running shoes for over four years, it was time to get a good, Shoe-Nazi-recommended pair.

Oh, and let me clarify. Some folks may consider running this:
- run: the act of running; traveling on foot at a fast pace; "he broke into a run"; "his daily run keeps him fit"

Not me. I consider running this:
- run: to use one's feet to advance forward, traveling on foot at any pace, stumbling, skipping, walking if necessary; "she broke into a sweat"; "her bi-weekly run keeps her from getting fatter"

In other words, do not expect me to announce that I'll be signing up for any marathon, triathlon, or any other type of race any time in the near future. In fact, when I say I'm running, please picture me speed walking, skipping, jogging clumsily and meandering around a track. Hey, I'm just being honest. Besides, the point is to get to moving in a way that I've not been moving in the last, well, four years. My body has become so accustomed to the excessive pedal strokes, long hours in the saddle and cycling-driven exertion, it can function just fine without using all that many calories. Thus I pedal my butt off and stay fat.

Now, I will run. Oh, and climb stairs. I will be going up and down quite a few at the stadium where the track is located. Gee...can't wait. If anything, next week is going to challenge me not only with a new job but a whole new workout - kind of boot camp style if you think about it. Bring it on! I won't be skinny by the end of next week, but I'll be skinnier...

the ocean was the real draw

2009-10-02T20:19:00.000-07:00

I think I'm getting a cold or some other funk. Sigh. Just my luck, huh? Not sick all year and now that I'm about to start working... I could feel it on my ride down by the coast this afternoon. I had no energy and my head hurt, and not in the "out in the sun too long" way either. My nose actually hurts on the inside as do my eyes, and my tongue feels swollen (feverish).

It was shockingly pretty out, though, despite my lethargy. I just pedaled along at a steady pace and took several breaks, including dipping my toes in the ocean (brrrrrr!) and riding up on the Venice Beach Pier to catch a few photos of some rather bold birds.

The ocean was the real draw, however. It sparkled today and flirted outrageously with the shore - waves were plentiful! There were lots of folks out but it wasn't crowded. I stuck to myself mostly, only taking the time to talk to one lone lifeguard who just so happens to ride a mountain bike too.

I'm now going to bed in hopes that I'll be able to ride in the morning (I'll see how I feel). I leave here with just my favorite photos from the day to describe it better...

Boo & Fathead: Perspective I & II

2009-10-02T10:22:00.000-07:00

Sooooo...um...I'm still not at work. Nope. It's such a long story to explain why, I'm not going to bother. In a nutshell, it was best I start first thing Monday morning, which is fine by me. I won't get to train with my predecessor, unfortunately, but I'll do the best I can with the tools I got.

This means that I'm free for the next three days. I was free yesterday too and spent most of the day working on a project for a friend and running errands - by bike! I really like commuting by bike when I can and will keep that up on weekends for sure. I didn't take any photos and I should have since I looked kind of goofy (well, not 'kind of') with a new kitchen mat tucked up under my backpack for transport. I still need a basket for the front of my bike and will get one once winter hits - and they go on sale!

Today? I'm driving back down to the ocean to ride once more on The Strand. No, I never get tired of it. I'll get good exercise in and enjoy the waves once more on a weekday. It will be quite awhile before I get this opportunity again. I plan to dip my toes in the ocean (assuming there are no signs warning of a recent sewage spill) and maybe even meditate. I hear meditation is good for one's soul. I'm not good at keeping quiet or still for longer than 2 minutes at a time, so it will be a challenge. Likely, I'll just sit and enjoy the vast beauty of the Pacific Ocean. It really isn't over-rated.

In the meantime this morning, I let Boo out to roam as much as she pleases (her last chance on a weekday too!). She's done nothing but sit in one spot and stare out my french doors. It's as if she senses something is up. Thank goodness her new tricked-out terrarium arrives at the shop on Tuesday. Now I just need to find that little miniature disco ball. There has to be one - maybe at Toys R Us? I just think it would be so cute to have that in her terrarium.

Yes...I'm nuts. And to prove it further, I took a self-portrait today with my little pet. I call these Boo & Fathead: Perspective I & II:

How cute is that? Heh heh...

...okay, now I dress and get to riding!

and so it begins

2009-09-30T19:48:00.000-07:00

Finally.

Today, my new boss emailed me that I'm to arrive into work tomorrow, mid-morning, to begin filling out paperwork and then training with his soon-to-be former assistant. My fingerprint scan has yet to clear, believe it or not, but he went ahead and asked for formal approval to get me started now. He was so nice in his email and asked me if I was okay with that. Oh, but of course. I'm eager to get in there and get started. I want to meet new folks and have new experiences. I know I can do the job and do it very well. I know it will be challenging but exciting in the way new jobs generally are.

I also believe it will work out and be a blessing, but should I be wrong, I've learned in the last seven months that I will survive. This belief alone takes the pressure off and puts me in a frame of mind to succeed for the sheer joy of doing well. Does that make sense?

As for today, I got my final free-for-all out of my system. I started the day off by driving my car all of two blocks north to get an oil change, had breakfast, dressed to ride, picked up my car and drove to Burbank, where I parked on Riverside and took off on Patsy. I had an important errand to run after my ride (will get to that in a minute) so I needed to drive closer to Griffith Park.

New arm "coolers" - they actually work!

Now, yesterday, I forced my rather ample thighs to perform with heavy weights at the gym. Those very same thighs were rather peeved at me this morning, and this made pedaling a chore for sure. But I was determined to ride into Griffith Park and up to the Observatory (to pose), no matter what. To say I suffered is no exaggeration. Stupid legs! I pedaled and tried, even hitting the bike path for a bit to warm up...but no damn good came of it, cause by the time I'd started climbing, my legs were in full mutiny mode. I struggled up the backside of Trash Truck Hill - the easier side!

Once inside the canyons and climbing upward, I rode stronger, not sure why. I guess cause it was warm out at this point, and I was eager to arrive at the Observatory Cafe (proper name alludes me at present). A cold drink was awaiting and some posing necessary - so I pushed the climbs, so much so that I almost threw up! What that was all about, I'm not sure. Maybe I've had a little more stress with my nerves than usual with all that's been going on of late. I spit a little (thank goodness nobody but a coyote saw me do this) and powered through it.

At the Observatory, I sat on the patio in some cool breezes and looked out over the hazy skies, down into an obscured city. Haze (partly smog) often ruins the views in Southern California unless at sunset (when it enhances the skyline in a surreal, multi-colored way). Didn't matter - I still enjoyed looking out over the hills, at the Hollywood sign and down below the hills into West LA and beyond - even to downtown LA!

I sat on the porch eating fruit, yogurt and some baked Lays before finally deciding to mosey on to my next destination. I left the Observatory rested but with a noticeable soreness in my quads. My legs were still having a say over how they were treated yesterday, and my climb back up into the canyons was laborious to say the least!

Finally, at the Mount Hollywood intersection, my route became a descent down the windy but quiet canyon. This part of my ride was my favorite. The wind (lots of it) was truly in my face, the sun kissing my shoulders and my spirits dancing within me. Other than two lone cyclists out climbing up the hill, I was alone among the coyotes, squirrels, rabbits and mice. None of them made an appearance as I slid effortlessly down the canyon, smiling, alive, genuinely happy to be here on earth and grateful for...well, just about everything.

Sound silly? Overly dramatic? Yeah, so what? When I ride my bike, I have these kinds of epiphanies all the time - add to that the fact that today was truly my last day of unemployment (and I sensed that) and...well...

I took Forest Lawn back, riding in my middle ring into the wind. Back at the car, I was feeling high (from the ride endorphins) but my legs were still on strike. I think another trip to the gym tomorrow before work is in order! Enough of their protests. I want lean, muscular gams and not the soft(ish), thigh-rubbing-when-I-walk pair I'm currently sporting. Enough is enough! Thank goodness that with my new job comes a running track. You'd better believe I'll be on it!

Once my bike was packed, I drove to Scales & Tails to order Boo's new terrarium. It's going to be so frickin' awesome, that little lizard has no idea yet. I mean, how spoiled can one reptile be? Hey, she deserves it. I'm even getting her a little fake tunnel to burrow in. How cute is that? She can bask on her branch or hide in her tunnel on and off all day while I'm gone.

Boo today on one of her last weekday "walk-abouts"

She's going to love it, even if she doesn't have a clue what the word love means. She licked my cheek tonight before she went to sleep (on the couch beside me under her blanky, behind some pillows - did I mention how spoiled she is?). That's her way of saying she loves me...well, that and determining who I am and that I'm not going to eat her. Hey, love comes in many forms, okay?

Now? I hit the hay. Lots to do tomorrow, Friday and this weekend. I still owe my friend some stuff (thank goodness she loves me as I've been terribly remiss on delivering the goods!) and, well, I start a new job tomorrow! And, I still want to write for The Examiner... and another website asked me to be a guest blogger for them (do they know what they are in store for?). So, lots and lots...but all good stuff!!! Yippee! And so it begins...thank goodness and oh, I'm so grateful.

groundhogs are over-rated

2009-09-29T20:20:00.000-07:00

Well, today was suppose to be my first day of work at my brand new job (and brand new life). Nope. Fingerprint check still not back. I was hopeful for tomorrow, but....nope. I will not be reporting to work tomorrow either. I realize that this means another day off, but still, I feel like I'm stuck in Groundhog Day all over again, and although the little whiskered critters are cute, those groundhogs are over-rated!

I'm ready to report to work and psyched for it, enthusiastic and back into the 9-5 frame of mind. So, somehow this week's time off isn't as fun as I'd like it to be. I mean, if I knew that I wasn't starting until next Monday, for sure, I'd spend this week riding like the wind all over the place and with abandon. But not knowing what day I'm to start and the suspense of when has left me in limbo. I haven't made plans for fear of suddenly having to cancel them. I'm a little odd this way - but the day/night before I start a new job, I want to relax, veg and go to bed by 8pm. Silly? Maybe. But it works for me and fulfills my need to be uber-refreshed on the first day of a job. After three years on a job, I can party until 2am, show up the next day and be productive...but not on the first day. Get it?

As for the fingerprint check thing - I got a funny little story from today to share. Since I still needed a few items of clothing to complete my fall-wardrobe-for-work, I decided to go shopping again this morning. So, I headed yet again to Macy's to pick up some items (found plenty on sale) and then to New York & Company (NY&C), a store I'd heard of and seen but never shopped in before today.

I arrived at NY&C after my trip to Macy's, browsed (wasn't all that impressed) and decided to try on two items - a black skirt and black camisole-type-blouse. Both were on sale and both fit. Great! I proceeded to the check-out counter where a 20-something, eye-shadowed-to-a-frosty-perfection saleslady rang me up and urged me to provide my personal address information for additional coupons. She then asked me if I wanted to apply for a $500 limit credit card with the store.

I first said no, but when she told me I'd get an additional 15% off for my purchase today, I relented. Why not? I have excellent credit, next to zero debt and no way, no how would I ever purchase up to $500 dollars in that store (just not my style).

"Um, I'm so sorry. It appears that your credit card has been denied...I mean, you've been denied the credit limit...card," was the response I got from Ms. Frosty-eyed.

"What??!!! You're kidding?" I was completely stunned. "Look, my credit is 720 or higher and I owe less than $400 dollars on one credit card...ONE. I should be approved...and not for $500 but $5,000! Can you please check again?"

Ms. Frosty, smiling with lovely dimples, replied, "Well, I could call them to find out why if you'd like."

Thirty minutes later I was on the phone with a very rude b*tch (really, this woman clearly hated her job) trying to solve the mystery. "Ma'am, I need you to step outside the store to verify your information," was but just one of her many demands of me.

"I'm on my cell phone and I've ducked down under a clothes rack, belly flat on the store's floor. I'm fairly certain no one can hear me. Will you please tell me why you denied me a card now? Please..." The b*tch had no sense of humor it turned out, and I had to walk halfway down the mall to get her to respond.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Ma'am, but we cannot verify your address," was the reply I got in the tersest tone I've heard of late.

"You mean to tell me that you cannot verify the address at which I've lived for over nine years?" I asked, incredulously. I then repeated my address. Didn't matter. I was denied, declined, devalued...deflated.

"If you'll send us a copy of a utility bill, we'll be happy to approve your credit. Your credit is in very good standing, I see here on my screen, but your address cannot be verified."

I think that woman was sitting on a corncob the whole time I talked to her, cause there just was no other explanation for her attitude, tone and pure (obvious) glee to deny me a $500 credit card with NY&C.

"No, Ma'am," I replied. "It will be a cold day in hell before I send you a copy of anything." With that, I hung up and walked back over to the store and up to Ms. Frosty. I relayed what the b*tch from the credit company had told me and my decision. Ms. Frosty looked sheepish and a tad ruddy.

"Oh, I'm sooooo sorry. It appears I entered your address incorrectly. But you'd think that they [the creditors approving the application] would have caught the one number that was off!" What a way to pass the buck, I'll give her credit for that.

"That's okay," I said. "My blood pressure is through the roof since, you see, I'm waiting for a fingerprint check and background check, including a credit report, to clear at a new job I'm suppose to start this week, and this whole little mistake you made and the incompetency on part of the creditor to realize your mistake has caused me truly undue stress - really, I'm okay with that. Really." I think my eye was twitching when I said this to her, cause she took a step back.

"Well, for all your trouble, we're going to give you 15% off anyway!" She replied, smiling like we were at happy hour and ordering drinks charged to some stranger's tab.

I just smiled, signed and got the hell out of there. How much was my purchase? - $20.00. All that for $20.00 frickin' bucks.

Sigh.

I did hit the gym today. Rode Nellie over, lifted weights hard and rode home. My quads and biceps hate me right now, but damn it felt good while I was sweating. I then came home, showered and headed out to a light sushi dinner. First thing I did when I got back home was to put my "first day at work" outfit together - again. I keep changing my mind. But I've finally settled on what I will wear and have it all good to go...now, if I could just get there!

Tomorrow? I will ride my bike. Where, I don't know and on what bike, I don't know...but I ride. I may get my car's oil changed first thing (drop the car off), but other than that, I truly have nothing I need to do. So, ride it will be...ride like the wind, all over the place...and with abandon.

like Groundhog Day...only not

2009-09-28T19:42:00.000-07:00

Apparently, when one gets one's fingerprints taken for a criminal background check, it can take some time (like up to two weeks or longer) to get the results back. Usually, however, when large institutions (like the one at which I'll be working) request these reports, it takes no more than a few day(s)..as in plural. Silly me. I thought I'd be reporting to work in the AM tomorrow. Nope. My criminal record report (fingerprint check) has yet to clear.

Now, I know I don't have a criminal background, so I shouldn't fret, right? But, for some odd reason, the report not clearing instantly has me insanely worried. It's as if I peed in a cup for a drug test knowing damn well that (as an asthmatic) I don't smoke weed only to have the test results delayed...and then convincing myself that the random puff of pot from some Venus Beach hippie (wannabe or has-been) that I inhaled while riding along The Strand last week has somehow infiltrated my system and caused a (false) positive on my test!

Same thing with the criminal background check. What if somehow I left fingerprints at some store just seconds before it was robbed by an armed criminal wearing gloves? What if those (my) fingerprints have been sitting in an FBI file somewhere, waiting to be identified and, lo and behold, I take this fingerprint, criminal background check for a job and get arrested for armed robbery? What if I end up in prison with other hardened criminals, including Sallie, a rather large, hairy-yet-estrogen-filled cellmate who finds me ever so cute? Seriously...I do think this sh*t happens to people.

Sigh.

Anyway, I didn't come on here to reveal my paranoia. I really came on to share photos of (what I thought was) my last day of unemployment. You see, I finally, after seven days, went riding! Along the ocean too, which was a perfect place to ride this morning.

I headed out later than planned (no surprise there) but was parked in a beach lot in Santa Monica just before 9:00am. I was talking to Dad on the phone while parking and mentioned to him how excited I was to start work, come home for Christmas and to call my Grandma, whom I've not called even once since her hip operation three months ago (I will and should burn in hell for this egregious behavior). Dad said he'd called and told Grammy about my job and how excited she is for me. To know that I have that beautiful woman (whom I love with all my heart despite my having not called her) in my corner was (and is) enough to start my morning off on a high. I clipped in and headed off, rolling on Nellie toward Venice Beach, smiling ear to ear.

It was a tad foggy down by the ocean today, cool and refreshing too. I had slipped on arm warmers, but they were peeled off within 20 minutes of my ride. I was alone, opting not to plan a rendezvous with anyone so as to keep things loosey-goosey. I was okay with this and deep in thought, riding along the waves. There was hardly a soul out, just a cyclist here and there and a few well-behaved pedestrians and skaters.

I basically rode from the south end of Santa Monica to the middle of Dockweiler Beach before turning around. Nothing outstanding, just a good cardio workout. I kept it in the big ring the whole way to work my legs, which were buzzing from the opportunity to ride. My mind was both on The Strand and elsewhere as I thought over my future and the last year's revelations.

The only time I was fully in the moment was when a lovely flock of birds (pigeons? seagulls? crows?) flew in perfect formation in front and above me as if both flirting with me and performing some synchronized routine for my benefit only. I was so amused and happy and content and...well, just thrilled to be out there for what I thought would be my last weekday coastal ride (for awhile anyway). Now...I just might go out there again tomorrow morning, which would kind of be like Groundhog Day...only not.

After my ride, I spent time cleaning my car out (took less time than I thought) and enjoying the coastal breezes. It was then off to do a little more shopping (for some additions to my work wardrobe), lunch at Soup Plantation, a dry-cleaners drop-off and a car cleaning (professional). Who knew? My car is burgundy! The paint is chipped, scratched and fading, however. It's clean, though, inside and out! The man at the shop offered to detail it for $120 - wax, buffer and 'spot paint blemishes' on the outside while shampooing and detailing the inside. I may take him up on it in the future (after shopping around for a better price, of course), but for now...I'm so happy it's clean!

Now? I blog, then hit the hay. Tomorrow, I'm doing a near repeat of today (minus the car stuff) and I may have lunch with Herbie. Last one (sniff). Once I start working for real, I won't be able to drive (pedal) to Montrose like I did before. Oh well, some things have to be sacrificed for income, I suppose.

ready, set, go for what's next

2009-09-27T17:30:00.000-07:00

Three days, three whole days - that's the time it's taken me to clean out (up) my life. Once it was confirmed and I accepted the new job, I flew into uber-focused-on-order-and-cleanliness mode and began a project that I thought would take me no more than a day to a day and a half at most to complete. Nope. Three days - and that's just my apartment. I still have my trash-truck car to clean out, get cleaned off and the oil changed. Thank goodness I don't start work until Tuesday! (well, that or Wednesday - my background check must clear first)

I wish I could report on here that I've had a wonderful riding weekend, but I did nothing more than move my bikes out of the kitchen (so I could mop). I've not donned a helmet in three whole days either, nor have I hit the gym. I have, however, sweated like a pig, and as I write this, my back hurts. Well, four loads of laundry carried up and down my stairs, vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing and 14 bags (stuffed) of clothes/purses/shoes being carried down my steps, loaded in my car, transported to a Goodwill Donation Center and unloaded again isn't exactly like sitting on my butt eating bon-bons all day, now is it? (does anyone really do that?) It took me two trips to Goodwill to deliver the bags. I'm still in shock over how much I hoarded for the last 9 years.

I first made my bedroom closet a priority. I couldn't even close the door all the way at night due to the crap crammed into and falling out of it. There were various bags full of letters/bills/misc. documents from over the last three years stuffed in that closet along with all my clothes, shoes and suitcases. I don't know how I ever managed to dress for work long before I was laid off! Now, the closet is in perfect condition with every clothes item hung with care (zipped & buttoned). My shoes have been picked over (buying a couple of new pairs over the next few weeks), and my work clothes lined up ready to wear starting next week. To say it was a relief to expunge that hideous black hole is an understatement, but it was an ordeal unlike no other. I took just two small breaks in the five hours it took to clean that one closet!

Next, it was my hall (coat) closet. Same issue with in only it had piles of laundry (four huge loads to be exact) stuffed up into my coats that were subsequently smashed into the wall, many of which I got rid of (and a couple I never even wore). Imagine my surprise to pull a coat out, check the side pockets for loose change and find a dirty pair of panties in one of the pockets instead. Yeah...I know. So.not.necessary.to.share. But that is just how much my dirty laundry had piled up. I've been washing it, one load at a time, but I guess it was just the same stuff I've been wearing over and over again in the last seven months. The rest has just sat, stale and stinky. When I washed the four loads of it today, I used two scoops of detergent in lieu of one.

Anyway, I know I said I wouldn't share this kind of stuff anymore, but really - what do I have to show for the last three days? I am going riding down by the ocean tomorrow morning. I have to as my legs hurt from not exercising (true!), and I need to feel the morning coastal air on my face. But my ride will only last a couple of hours. I will then return home, and this is my plan:

1. clean car out
2. drive car to get cleaned
3. drive to get oil change
4. pick up groceries
5. get everything ready for first day on the job
6. eat healthy dinner
7. get gym clothes ready for 5am workout (oh, that's gonna hurt!)
8. go to bed

I may have some time in there to go shopping for a couple of items like new running shoes. I never did get around to buying those this weekend. And I HAVE to measure Boo's Terrarium and call the cricket shop. I may need to drive over there this week to order her custom-built terrarium. I'm going to have an adjustment to make with the new job, time, getting up, new schedule, etc. - but Boo is really going to have a rude awakening. Poor thing. No more spoiled dragon with ample apartment 'walk abouts,' pettings, couch naps, etc. She's going to feel as if she's in solitary confinement. Of course, I may be wrong. Perhaps, she'll be blissfully happy to have me out of here, left to some real peace and quiet. Either way....we'll both find out next week. In the meantime, I'm ready, set, go for what's next...

boy, this year has been a trip

2009-09-25T07:52:00.000-07:00

In an hour and ten minutes, I will call my new supervisor and accept the position I was offered yesterday. I'm leaving the Corporate sector (private industry) and entering a work environment that I know will be much more suited to my personality and temperament. I am confident that I will do well with my new responsibilities and that my life will be enriched. To say that I've been very lucky (and blessed) is an understatement.

Boy, this year has been a trip. As you know, I've been out of work since last February when I was laid off from my former company. I've spent my time since then looking for a job, writing articles for The Examiner and, of course, riding my bike(s). It's been an emotional year, nerve-wracking yet exciting, and a year I'll certainly never forget. Having worked my entire adult life (and as a teen as well), I've never gone this many months without employment. I would be lying to say that it wasn't frightening at times and that I didn't have days where I was depressed. But when all is said and done, my former company did me quite a huge favor.

I'm now not angry or scared or frustrated or bored. I'm even-keel mostly and other than needing to get back on a strict regimen (both with exercise and diet), I'm far happier today than I was on February 5th. I know more what my priorities are and what matters to me, and that in and of itself, is a gift. My finances are in perfect order and my savings healthy. I plan to keep it that way and to keep simplicity in my life. I've never been as excessive as I could have been, but I certainly needed to trim the fat. Now that I have (figuratively, anyway), I no longer have a taste for it.

I start my new job next week, which means I will miss the Lighthouse Century this weekend. I'm a little bummed about that but not overly so as I need this time to get re-focused. Not sure what day exactly that I'll report to work yet since I just had my background check submitted yesterday, and those can take one day to two weeks. Hopefully, I will arrive first thing on Tuesday morning. This weekend (and today), I'm tearing my apartment apart, emptying all the old stuff out (mostly clothes), and getting everything in perfect order. Yes, I know. I had seven months to do that in, but cut me some slack - there were miles to be ridden!

I am also purchasing a brand new pair of running shoes. Where I will be working has a track within walking distance of my office. I use to run on that track many years ago and it will be nice to workout on it again. I am joining a gym near my office as well. Then, there is the wonderful opportunity to ride my bike along the ocean in the evenings. I need to purchase a new HID, and that's on my list. As for my Griffith Park night rides, once I've settled into the job, I can consider those again, and Herbie - true blue - promised me that he'd be willing to go a little later if need be so that I can join.

So, now a new chapter begins. My cycling will continue but the Cricket Runs are over. I will still have opportunities for road trips and that's a good thing as I really enjoyed the three trips I took this year. I'm also seriously considering flying home for Christmas as I will have time off then to do so.

Last but not least, my little dragon is getting a totally tricked-out terrarium. It's going to be much wider than it currently is with fresh sand, a new light, a fake tunnel for her to burrow in, and I may even see if I can find a miniature disco ball to hang in there. What? You think dragons don't get their groove on? Clearly...you've not met Boo.

offer our fellow athlete some kind words

2009-09-23T11:03:00.000-07:00

Recently, I heard about a triathlete in Northern Cal who was struck by a car and injured very badly. Her name is Monique Petrov and she was hit last Wednesday while out on a training ride. She was gearing up for the Ironman in Kona and this was likely her last long ride beforehand. From what was written, she was so looking forward to competing.

photo from her blog

According to news reports, the motorist who struck her had the sun in his eyes and just didn't see her. If true, this tragic accident was just that...an accident. Regardless, her life at present has been altered quite significantly. She is in ICU with broken bones - arm, femur, knee (shattered) and multiple vertabrae fractures. Her friends and family have surrounded her in loving support, and given her amazing athletic abilities and strength, she will likely (and hopefully) fully recover.

I don't know Monique, but she and I are the same age. Unlike her, I'm not an amazing athlete. But I am a passionate cyclist and what happened to her is what I fear the most for myself and my friends who ride (and Dad, of course!). Any of us could be hit at anytime. It scares the hell out of me but not enough for me to give up a sport I love so much.

Even though I've never met Monique, I'm following her recovery on her blog. I'm writing about her here to suggest (encourage) any of you who can to please donate to her recovery. I can only imagine the medical bills. To donate, please send a check to:

Danielle Cane, 28 Westwood Dr. San Rafael, Ca. 94901.
Make checks payable to: Monique Petrov Donation Account.

Also, she has a fan page on Facebook (Monique Petrov) where supportive comments are being posted. The more she hears positive affirmations, the better, so if you can swing by to offer our fellow athlete some kind words, please do.

The Pink's magical, mysterious adventure

2009-09-20T15:43:00.001-07:00

I did not ride my road bike this weekend. Nope. Patsy sat neglected in my kitchen while Nellie, and her huge honking tires, rolled freely beneath me. I didn't plan it that way for any specific reason, it just ended up my choice. For one thing, I wanted to ride along The Strand yesterday where I knew I'd be blessed with ocean breezes and not cursed with stupid Valley smog air. But riding on The Strand can be dangerous on slicks, especially with all the clueless morons who walk, roller-blade and just stand out in the middle of the path that reads "Bikes Only" every 10 feet on the asphalt (painted in white). Let's just say, I'm grateful I rode on my knobbies!

Since I don't have a lot of time to blog this afternoon, and today's ride was far more interesting, I will document yesterday's beach ride in photos. I hope you enjoy as much as I did (when I wasn't swerving to avoid hitting and killing some stupid beach goer, anyway).

Now, about today's ride on Nellie, and The Pink's magical, mysterious adventure - what I'm calling Karen's and my hunt-and-peck, mountain bike extravaganza.

Karen has already proven herself to be a bold adventurer when it comes to trails and has a knack for figuring her (our) way around without so much as a GPS, street name or, really, much of anything other than her obvious mountain biker's sixth sense. I first learned of this on our Malibu Creek Ride a few weeks ago when we went hunting for a shorter (less hot) route back into the park and took off on unknown Malibu residential streets. But today, she really showed true muster when she (she) suggested we find a less daunting (i.e. blistering hot and exposed) route back to where we started at the top of Reseda.

Our plan was to ride from Mulholland Dirt Road over to Temescal Fire Road, out to the Parker Mesa Overlook and back. This would have totaled about 18 miles with 2,500 feet of climbing. Normally, that would be fine, but given that both Karen and I are heat wienies, and given that today's temps were upwards of 90 degrees up on those dirt trails, our plan was not looking so good after we'd ridden about half of it (while we sat at the Overlook, mulling over our 1,300 feet of climbing on exposed trails in the sun to get back). We'd already climbed several hills and descended a tremendous amount just to get to the Overlook. We'd been riding in foggy hills, dramatically drenched in morning sun, and cool, fresh air. But the fickle day had quickly shifted, the fog lifted and the air wilted. We were not looking forward to the return trip!

It was there at the Overlook that Karen's mind became filled with fanciful ideas - in particular, one where we could somehow cut down to Trippit Ranch (in Malibu) and find a way back up to Mulholland Dirt Road and back to our cars. This would mean far less climbing, or if not, far less steep and unbearably hot climbing...or so Karen visualized. She was sipping on her Camel Back straw, nodding her head and staring at me while thinking this plan over. I was not convinced but incredibly amused. Karen most certainly has a charm about her and a way of talking me into anything.

"Well, I don't know, Karen. Mulholland Dirt does have to connect somehow, but where and how?"

"It does!" She took more sips and continued nodding. "I bet if we ride down to Trippet Ranch which is on Topanga Blvd., we can find that road we dead-ended at on that ride with Jim and Herb that one time."

Huh? "I don't know the name of the road but I remember it, or at least, I can see it in my head," was all I could say back.

It was then decided that we'd call Herb to get his advice. Herb was out on a Kessel Run with the boys and wasn't as amused as I was in that moment. "No. The only way back is what you just rode out on," was his reply. "I don't think there is a way to connect."

"No, Herb," I insisted (while Karen, listening to this exchange, shook her head emphatically to disagree as well even though Herb couldn't see her). "There has to be a way. Karen thinks so, I think so...and if I recall, that road was a residential street near Topanga. Do you recall the name?"

Herb sighed. "Corbin or Capri?...I don't know."

When I relayed this info to Karen, she got excited. "Yes! It's a C word, the name of the street. It starts with C." Of course, this didn't help us, but it was a start.

We then thought of Jim - a friend who knows every road everywhere in California (really, he does). We called him. No answer. Damn.

"We could just ride down to Trippit Ranch and ask someone," Karen said with a certainty in her voice which implied credibility. I was still not convinced, but what the hell? I had water & Cliff Shots, and we had six hours to nightfall. How lost could we get?

As we headed down toward the parking lot at Trippit, we passed many hikers. None of the them could help us. At the bottom, we searched for a Park Ranger, called Herb again (who still couldn't help us) and reconsidered just riding back up the way we'd originally ridden. Our other option was just to head out to Topanga and follow it...probably not the wisest thing really. Finally, we got the advice of a Ranger who told us to simply follow the road we were on (Entrada) down to Topanga and then up(ish) to paved Mulholland. From there, we were to follow it East until it dead-ended into Dirt Mulholland. This sounded much more arduous than we'd hoped for, but the Ranger convinced us that it would be easier even if it meant more miles.

I was convinced, but now Karen looked anything but. "I don't know, M.E. Might be really far, and that just doesn't sound right. I know there is a street that cuts up. I just know it."

I figured we'd follow the Ranger's advice. It would (eventually) lead us back to the cars. As we clipped in and took off down Entrada, we both began to question our choice. For one thing, Entrada went on forever! And it was all downhill. If we had to turn around, we were going to suffer.

"Guess we're committed now!" I hollered to Karen who was just a few feet ahead of me.

She came to stop at Topanga, looked over her shoulder at me, swallowed and agreed. "Yup...no turning back."

As we took off on Topanga, we rode single file. That two-lane road is narrow and at times, lacking a solid shoulder - exact riding conditions I never favor. But the traffic seemed subdued for the mile or so we road it. It was after about 15 minutes of riding that Karen hollered out from behind me, "Guess we should have just taken the regular route back, huh?! We'd be done by now!"

I glanced over my shoulder at her and could see her disappointment clearly. She'd so hoped we'd find a secret loop back, something adventurous, exciting and new. Instead, we were riding on asphalt while out on our dirt ride! I focused ahead and noticed a street named Cheney. What caught my eye about it wasn't the name but the sign reading "No Outlet." Hmmm....this meant one of two things; it ended in the hills entirely, or it ended on dirt....Dirt Mulholland.

I pulled over on the street and stopped. "Karen? Are you sure the road wasn't Cheney? It starts with a C." Karen just stared at me. I think she was completely defeated at that moment.

A car with two cute 20 somethings came toward us down Cheney. I flagged them down and asked them if Cheney (or any road nearby) dead-ended into Dirt Mulholland. The two young men nodded, smiled and the driver said, "You're in luck. About 1/2 mile down look for Santa Maria. Follow that up as it will take you exactly where you want to go."

Karen and I thanked them profusely and took off with a little more speed in our pedals. Could it be? Could we have found the secret street? Santa Maria started with an S, and neither Karen nor I recalled any S named street from that one prior ride. As we turned right and faced what looked to be a wall of a road up the hillside, we stopped cold. Signs everywhere read, 'Private Road. Stay out. Violators will be Cited." Oiy! I was not looking forward to that climb and the day's heat was getting to me. Just then, another car came down from the 'wall' above. I again flagged the woman driver down.

"Yes, just keep on up this road. It goes on awhile but it's only really steep right here in the beginning and somewhere in the middle." I thanked the lady and urged Karen to follow me. Off we went on The Pink's magical, mysterious adventure.

True to the lady's description, the road was very steep in the beginning. It was a grind getting up it. Karen, who weighs about as much as my right thigh, went up it fine, but she too was getting tired. She suddenly noticed a trail head for a single track. She suggested we try it. Now, don't ask me why at this point I was still willing to just follow. Some things just don't need any sense made of them! Off Karen and I went into the unknown on this trail that eventually wound around and up the mountain, reconnecting with Santa Maria Road! On top of that, the single track was so much fun. Karen and I want to go explore the many trails that connect to it!

As we headed up the final stretch of Santa Maria (we'd missed the middle steep part by taking the single track - another bonus), we were both anxious to find Dirt Mulholland. Finally, after what seemed forever, there it was! Yup...we'd found it!

We'd hunted, pecked, asked and risked it, but here we were on the same fire road we'd started off on in the morning. It was then a two mile jog back to the cars. It was so hot! I was fading, but luckily, there wasn't much more to ride.

Oh, and guess what? We came out with close to 22 miles and 3,100 feet of climbing (according to Karen's Garmin). Phew! We did, however, miss the majority of the heat. Santa Maria was nicely shaded for most of it. As we pulled up to the cars, we giggled and high-fived. I got to give The Pink her props...damn, if she doesn't have a nose for direction. Now, we have a new loop and more single tracks to explore. Yippee!

If you'd like to check the route out:

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/united-states/ca/-encino-/553125348925681438"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;The Pink&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;#039;s Magical, Mysterious Adventure&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br/&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/find-ride/united-states/ca/-encino-"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Find more Bike Rides in Encino , California&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

a whole new night ride experience

2009-09-18T07:54:00.000-07:00

I've reported on here in the past about my rides along The Strand. That coastal route is one of my favorites. The Strand is the bike path that runs North-South along the Pacific Coast. It is roughly 20 miles long from where it begins at Will Rogers Beach to where it ends in Palos Verdes. It winds around, and in one spot (just before Marina Del Rey & the Marina), it is only accessed by taking a quick jog on a city street for about 3/4 a mile. I've ridden that path for years, and before that, I roller-bladed sections of it. It's safe (no cars) but busy (lots of pedestrians, other bicyclists, skaters and dogs). Generally, I don't ride on my road bike along The Strand, although I will and have recently. The issue for thinner tires is the sand which can catch a skinny wheel and send it flying out from under an unlucky rider. It's best to ride a mountain bike (which is what I d0) or beach cruiser (what I use to do) for its entirety.

I bring all this up today, cause I rode The Strand yesterday, but I didn't do it in a way I've done so in the past. Yesterday, I rode it in the dark. In other words, I had a whole new night ride experience! - one I loved and can't wait to repeat.

It was Joannie's idea. She put out feelers to a small group of us to see if there was any interest in a night ride along the ocean. Oh, twist my arm! I couldn't wait, but since my HID bulb had blown out a couple of weeks ago, I reluctantly told Joannie I couldn't make it and would have to take a rain check. I fear no one truly believes me when I say I am blinder than a bat at night. The pavement (or trail, whatever the case may be) tends to blur in my vision, and I end up squirreling around thinking I'm going off the edge of the path. Lucky for me, Joannie (who doesn't suffer from night blindness) offered up (insisted I use) her HID. I love Joannie. She has two (sometimes three) of everything bike related. You need gloves? She's got an extra pair. Glasses? Yup, she's got those too, with every type of lens needed while riding. How about a HID light to borrow? Sure thing. I tease her that she's even got a spare kitchen sink in her backpack! (One never knows when a spare kitchen sink may come in handy.)

Spare glasses that Joannie loaned me last night...attractive on me, huh? ;-)

With my borrowed HID, the ride was on! Joannie swung by, picked me up, and we headed over the hill and down into Santa Monica. We arrived at the coast right at Sunset, and it was so beautiful down there. If I could afford to live by the beach I would (along with everyone else). There is just such a different feel both in the air and in the attitudes of the folks out enjoying the coast. Last night, there were dog walkers with their pooches mingling along the grassy hills above the beach, skaters playing an ad hoc game of street hockey, bicyclists of all kinds from beach cruisers to road rats, beach goers taking their final dips in the water before dark and professionals headed to local beach bars for Happy Hour. None of these folks seemed that much in a hurry, almost as if the setting sun had captured their attention so thoroughly, all of their collective activities were warped into one slow motion bubble filled with ocean breezes.

Shortly after we parked, Dionne showed up. Yippee! I haven't seen her in awhile and was happy she could join. Dionne (like Joannie) is just cool and mellow. Next, it was Ragan and Brian, friends of Joannie's who are the sweetest couple. I've known Ragan from the MS Society for years but never ridden with her. Adorable, spunky and incredibly bright is the best way to describe her. Brian, although the quietest of our bunch, was a perfect addition. Our last rider to collect was Gil, another sweet friend of Joannie's. He showed up by bike and led the way as we set out pedaling along The Strand in the quickly cooling, evening air.

Our plan was to 'ride to eat' since we were all starving. I hadn't eaten much all day and could both feel and hear my stomach's disapproval. Dionne was in the same state as me, and we were the most vocal on getting to food as fast as possible! We rode The Strand past Venice Beach (surprisingly quiet) to where it ends on Washington Blvd and followed the road to where the path connects. Washington was busy with cars trying to park at the many restaurants lining the street, but we passed through without issue. Once back on the path, it was quiet again and serene. I kept announcing my delight over the path at night - completely different from daytime rides!

We had decided on The Counter in Marina Del Rey and with Joannie's six foot bike lock found, guess where?, in her backpack, we were able to lock all six of our bikes together against a pole (no, I'm not kidding). We were then seated within five minutes of putting our name in. It was if they were waiting on our hungry crew. Over an appetizer of deep-fried pickles (heaven) and a beer, we laughed and joked. It was then less talking when the burgers arrived. The Counter lets you build your own, and I had a turkey burger on lettuce! I love that concept. I also had way too many sweet potato fries from the table's communal fries plate. Sigh.

Joannie to the rescue again! Six bikes locked together with her cable lock.

Food Porn! - deep-fried pickles (we all shared)

After dinner, and since it was getting late, we rode a little faster back to the cars. I loved this portion of the ride along the dark ocean - all that was visible were the white tips of raised waves slapping the shore. The sound of the ocean was mesmerizing, though, and the air delicious. I wanted to ride more than just back to the car, but it was a school night for most of the crowd. Next time, I'm going to attempt a longer ride along the coast...if I can somehow resist an earlier stop at The Counter, that is.

On the way home, Joannie thanked me for coming. Funny...she is so modest. I reminded her that she was the one who suggested such a unique and enjoyable evening and was the one deserving of gratitude. I'm not sure I'd have thought to ride The Strand at night. Now, I can't wait to do it again.