MyDogParty

like I always say...nothing better

2009-11-22T19:46:00.001-08:00

I wish I'd had more "get-up" in my "go" in the morning, but nothing could be farther from the truth. This melancholy, depressed state of mine (especially when it comes to fitness) is so old, it's beginning to smell...like rotten tomatoes or burnt human hair. Where the hell did my fitness mojo go? And it hasn't just been this year, either. This is has been an ongoing saga for me.

The ridiculous (and puzzling) aspect to my lull in discipline/enthusiasm/determination is that it is in direct opposition to my insane and genuine passion for cycling. I really do think so very often about my next ride and get giddy. But that anticipation doesn't translate into die-hard dedication to all things fitness and weight loss related. Instead, I'm a walking (and jiggling while I walk) oxymoron. I should be lean, mean and ready for action at all times and not this person I've become, someone slow to rise, reluctant to dress and resistant to moving.

Well, today I did ride, dress and move by way of knobbies on a not-too-challenging but certainly worthy trail in Cheseboro, a very well-known series of dirt trails out here. I rode with The Pink (you know, the gal who weighs about as much as just one of my legs does?) and she took me on almost the same route we rode last time, when Herb was along as well. Only this time, we took a different route back, down Sheep Corral, a rather technical (in spots) single/double track that I found thrilling, even in the (very few) sections I dismounted and walked.

The weather was perfect for mountain biking but, as usual, warmed just a smidgen above the temperature I'd have preferred on some of our very exposed climbs. Glorious sunlight does more than just warm the skin, though - it manipulates the vista hues on our often brown mountainous regions out here to something beyond...well...just brown. I found beauty along the sections of the trail that had little shrubbery just as much as I did throughout the tree-lined parts - both of which Cheseboro offers.

There were lots of other riders out and horses and hikers and little bunny rabbits and prairie dogs darting here and there. It took me a good hour into the ride to truly warm to the idea of being on my bike and then it was a mere two hours later that I reluctantly had to get off of it. So glad I went, suffered up the climbs (only walked once, and that was on the 'wall' climb), hung out with my friend and just enjoyed the morning on two wheels. Like I always say...nothing better.

Tomorrow I rise at 4:45am and go to the gym. I repeat...I go to the gym tomorrow. And Tuesday and Wednesday - Thursday, I ride. That's Thanksgiving, of course (ugh). The holidays (which I despise) are here. Might as well suck it up, belly up and then ride it off yet another year.

you're gonna pay for that later

2009-11-21T12:01:00.000-08:00

I didn't ride this morning and opted instead to take Patsy into my local bike shop. While riding on road of late, I've felt she hasn't performed well, and pedaling her seems more laborious than necessary; plus there is this "click, click, click" noise for which I cannot identify the source. I've been told (repeatedly) that my bottom bracket could be the culprit and that it might need replacing or more grease packed in it. Yeah...told this not by my bike mechanic, might I add.

But seeing as how Patsy hasn't had a full maintenance session (or salon day, as I like to call it), it was time to do so. I chose today since I hate driving in rush hour traffic from the west side to my LBS in Glendale during the week. In fact, I hate to drive northeast at all on weekday evenings. Thus, I would rather give up a road ride day once in a blue moon to get to my LBS with relative ease. I will still ride today (in a few minutes, in fact), but just around my hood on Nellie. I have a mtn bike ride tomorrow, so I don't need to knock out hard miles today, anyway.

Back to the LBS visit...

I drove Patsy over and dragged her in unceremoniously (remember, I'm lusting over the idea of having a new titanium bike custom-built just for me) and asked to see Oscar.

"Hi, Mary," Oscar said, stepping out from the back with his usual smile.

"Howdy. Pats needs her annual maintenance; you know? The 65.00 dollar one?" I smiled back.

"69.00," he reminded me.

I chuckled and slapped him playfully on his upper arm (which I'm sure he'd rather I didn't do). "Right, $70. Anyway, she needs a full maintenance and that noise I brought her in for last time is still happening. Do you think it's the bottom bracket? Does it need to be packed with grease?"

By this time Fernando, a new, very friendly mechanic at the shop, appeared. "Let's check it to see," he suggested. He and Oscar then fiddled with the round area on the bottom of my crank beneath the pedals, both putting their ears to the bike.

"No, your bottom bracket moves fine, isn't loose and doesn't feel rough or worn to me," Oscar said, with Fernando nodding in agreement.

"Do you think it needs to be packed with grease?" I asked (cause I was told it might need to be).

"No, Mary," Oscar said, repressing what I think may have been a very large sigh. "It's ceramic and cannot be adjusted. But it definitely does not need to be replaced. I thought we talked about this the last time you were here."

Now, this is the man who has sold me all three of my bikes and who stands to make more money off of me by simply saying, "sure, we'll replace it." I wouldn't know the difference and would pay to have it done even if not necessary. I trust he knows what he's talking about. So, the notion that I need a new bottom bracket or have a bracket in need of a good grease packing is now a moot one, for sure, final, to infinite and back.

"Well, why then do I feel so sluggish when I ride my bike lately?" I asked Oscar.

There was a long pause before Oscar answered. "Well...some days when I ride, I just have a bad day, I climb slower than other people and they pass me, too." Again, what appeared to be a repressed sigh passed over his otherwise cheerful features.

"You're describing my normal ride experience, Oscar. I'm asking you what else could be causing such sluggish rides,"

Oscar said nothing.

"Oh," I said and smirked. "It would be my ample ass, I suppose. Lovely."

With that I left Patsy to be groomed for $70 and will pick her up on Tuesday night. I'm going to ride the hell out of her next week, every chance I get during the four day weekend. If it is my ass (which let's get real here, it is), I'm the only one who can fix the problem. I admitted to Dad last night that I didn't exercise once this last week and have been mopey and depressed. Like Dad said to me, "you're gonna pay for that later." Sigh.

Oh, and one last thing on the topic of material items - I saw this at the shop. $2,600 and change, but oh, how I do want it...

I want

2009-11-21T07:36:00.000-08:00

You know how when I was unemployed and all, I said that I didn't need much and wasn't all that concerned with material items? Yeah, well, I lied...cause there are things I want. And now that I'm employed, I'm itching to run out and buy them. I will not.

But I am making a laundry list of what I want so that perhaps over the next year or so, I can save and buy a few of the items I lust for at present. I am not putting these items (certainly not the big ticket ones) on a credit card, so I will have to earn the money first before I spend it, and since I like having a healthy savings account, I will not be dipping into that either.

Oh, and one last thing, I won't be sponging off my dear 'ol dad. In fact (Dad), if he tries to buy me a single item on the list below (well, okay, he can spring for the most expensive item if he really wants to...heh heh), I will send it back, get the money, put it into a money order and mail it to him. (This is being written for only one person's benefit, and we know who he is.)

So, without further ado, here is my list:

A new Camelback backpack for long(er) hikes and possible an overnight backpack/camping kind of trip. I'm not going to become a backpacker as I'm too scared of bears, mountain lions and having to poop in the woods, but I wouldn't mind an over-nighter at some designated campgrounds (with porta-potties, hopefully).

An emergency (for real) kit to put in my new backpack. Not this one in particular, but one similar yet maybe a tad smaller. Mainly, I need to dig all my emergency blankets, first aid items and head lamps out and then add to that. You never, ever want to be caught out in the wilderness without these items, and a day hike can turn into a lesson in survival in a matter of hours.

New Years Eve day, 2006, my friend, Nancy, and I found that out the hard way when we went for just a two-three hour hike in an area that had been recently burned. It suddenly, without warning or being forecasted, began raining hard. We found ourselves in a situation where it was getting late in the day, water was getting deep around us (up to our knees in spots) and we were lost - with NO emergency supplies (neither of us, and we both knew better!). We got out finally (our three hour tour turned into nearly six!), but I will never do something like that again.

New road shorts and some mountain skorts - I want a few nice pairs that don't rub it all raw. Chafing is over-rated and I'm tired of the cheapo shorts I squeeze my buttage into. Speaking of, I'd like to have a body like the one modeling the shorts and skorts above as well. Maybe I should add "bootcamp and fatcamp" to my list of I Want? Anyway, for anyone laughing at the skorts, those are damn cute on us girls, let me tell you. I know a super badass gal named Dionne who sports those skorts on mountain bike rides. I'm convinced I can be badass and girly too - bring on the skorts!

A new black cycling jacket. My old one still fits me (barely) but it's getting worn. This one looks warm, streamlined (i.e. thinning) and comfy.

A new odometer with heart rate monitor and one with two bike mounts so that I can move it from Patsy to Nellie with ease. I hated that stupid Garmin I had (over-priced POS), so I'm thinking something simple. I don't really care how much elevation I've climbed. That info never did anything for me except to ask "Oh, really? We climbed that much?" Just tell me what my miles are so I know how many miles are left to food, civilization, beer...things like that.

Okay, this is a HUGE want right here. SIDI mtn bike shoes (drool). The mtn bike shoes I wear at present are as cheap as they come and work just fine. I don't need these over-priced shoes to ride dirt. I just ...want...them. (grin)

A new couch. Back in 1998, when Stephen passed away, his mother, my aunt, offered me his couch (along with many other items, including a trunk, some tables, a dresser, etc.). It's the couch I own today, and one I'd have bitten your ear off about if you'd suggested getting rid of it just two years ago. I remember the very day Stephen had the couch delivered to his apartment. He had invited me over for dinner, and when I walked through his front door, he was smiling ear-to-ear, so excited over his new purchase. It's a great couch, too, blue, big and so very comfy. It's also worn and faded, beginning to sag. Having it reupholstered would cost more than it did brand new (I've looked into it). And, truthfully, the last thing Stephen would have ever wanted was for me to hang onto his now worn blue couch that he'd have likely already replaced were he alive today. Personally, I wish he was alive and that I had never had his blue couch at all. It's time I replace it. I can keep the memory though (how could I forget?), and when I get a new couch, think of how happy he'd be for me.

I want, I want, I want...so badly. Yet, I'm so disciplined. I promised myself back in 2002 when I bought a brand new Nissan Sentra (for a very well-haggled price mind you) that I would drive it into the ground before I ever bought another car. I am not breaking that promise. However, my car is now almost eight years old and has near 100,000 miles on it. It might last to 200,000 as I get oil changes, etc., but once it starts to go (and the repairs add up), I'm going to be looking for one of these babies - a Honda CRV. Why a CRV? Cause it gets very good gas mileage, Hondas are one of the highest quality cars with the best resell value and I can put my bike in it. I plan, when I buy, to buy a used CRV, like maybe a year or two old if possible. I'm not so sure I ever want to buy a brand new car again - seems like a huge waste of money just to say, "I'm the only one who owned it." After all, you can get a brand new 'lemon' you know?

Last but not least, my biggest want of all (yup, even over the car) - new bike - custom built titanium one. I'm not putting a link to this bike cause it isn't the exact one I want, just a photo. But that near $2,500 is about the price I'm looking at to get the frame built and all the components put on. I love Patsy, she has served me well (and will continue to do so), but she's got a hell of a lot of miles on her as well as scratches and dings. I've had her now for 3.5 years. In the next two years, I hope to retire her and mount a ti-bike that I'm going to name "Road Chickie" with a decal at the top reading "MErider." Yes, seeing Herb's custom built ti bike got my mind set on one, especially knowing that I can have it custom built to my exact requirements (women specific!). Drool, pant, drool...one of these days.

Okay, that's it (for now). That sums up the majority of my materialistic cravings. There are other items along the way as well, but this should hold me over for awhile.

cue "Theme from Rocky" here

2009-11-16T19:31:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure what it is about this time of year, but I turn sour, lethargic and most unwilling to commit to much of anything. Even in my leaner, more fit years, this has been the case. This year just happens to be more noticeable since my rather ample ass is more...er...defined these days. And by defined, I don't mean rock-solid and formidable. I mean sagging, like my spirits.

I can't blame CAM either. No, it's something more to do with the shorter days and stupid Holiday crap that gets to me. I am not a Christmas kind of gal. Never have been. I cringe every time I enter a store and hear some stupid Christmas carol over the sound system. Can we please have some pumpkin pie and 'gobble-gobble' before the gawddim "ho, ho, hoing" starts? And every year, I get a little more Grinch like...just like my dad, only he's the Scrooge (sorry, Dad, but even Mom says so). I'm more the Grinch, as I would personally like to take all the trappings of the holiday (tinsel, trees, presents, etc.), bundle them up on some over-sized sled and send them flying over some cliff ledge. Only, I wouldn't send Boo, with reindeer antlers on her head, over the ledge as well (you know? - the little dog that the Grinch ties to the sled?)

If I could fast forward through the holiday-fueled, drunk/pie fests to January, I'd be a happy girl. January holds new promises, if not the stomach-gripping appreciation/realization that we are all still alive/getting older. We make new plans, resolutions and promises to both lose, gain and just 'be better' for yet another year to come...until, another Holiday season pops up to remind us that very few of those goals/resolutions were ever even part way met. "Where did the year go?" we ask ourselves. I know where mine went (in 2009), and I'm a happier if not fatter person for it.

Which leads me to why the hell I'm on here blabbering away - I want, NOW, to set my goals (not resolutions, mind you) for next year...at least, when it comes to cycling/fitness. And, I've been giving this a lot of thought. Over the last six years, I've accomplished several goals I set out to conquer: riding a double century, Triple Crown (riding 3 double centuries in one year), 6,000 miles in a year, CAM and "ride my bike." So, now what?'

This is what I've come up with:

1. Get back into 'Baldy shape' - this means, riding to the top of Mt. Baldy a minimum of once a month (what I've coined as BAM - Baldy a Month challenge). Baldy is my all-time favorite ride and it's epic. Cyclists who ride up there on a regular basis are in great shape. I use to be one of them. I now will be one of them. Bring it on!

2. More mountain biking. Seriously - I want to explore and push myself to get stronger on dirt. Mountain biking kicks my ass - it's now time to kick some ass right back at it (or something along those lines - cue "Theme from Rocky" here).

3. At least 6 centuries and preferably ones I've never ridden. I need not only new trails to discover but some new roads, cause (yawn), I've not been inspired of late!

4. A strenuous hike a month. Yup, this does too have to do with cycling. It's called cross-training, and Lord knows, I need it. Plus, I love to hike just about as much as I love to ride (look out! 2011 may be a year where I hike all month and ride only once...get it?)

5. Balance, balance, balance...another goal so very cycling-related: I'm taking off from riding/hiking/anything one Sunday a month to accomplish all things chore-like, including cleaning my stupid, frickin' pigsty. Without this 'time out' I can't get it all done. I also can't live like that anymore. Balance will be restored, or I won't ride at all.

There you have it. My goals. They may change between now and January 1st (doubt it) or more may be added (likely), but that's the first layer of brick in the 2010 foundation (pronounced 'twenty ten foundation'). I know one thing I am not doing for sure - CAM! That's a goal I can now certainly mark off my list. I haven't ruled out something ridiculous (like another double century or even triple crown) in the future, but not in 2010. I want to have fun riding, push myself a little harder, and, most importantly, find new roads/trails to travel before I take on another round of punishing goal setting. 2010 will be more about discovery and regaining fitness. That, I can live with...

end with our butts sunk down into sofa cusions

2009-11-15T14:14:00.000-08:00

Sheesh...I need new legs, folks. Seriously, mine are failing me. Doesn't help that for all my smack talk about lifting weights, I didn't do squat (as in, not even one) at the gym last week. I'm blubbering out in my size (not saying) pants these days. Next week, next week...back at it, I promise (just talking to myself here).

This morning, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed with the sheet wrapped too tight all up in my crack or something. I was annoyed, heavy and not wanting to move all that quickly. No, I didn't drink last night and, really, I got to bed in plenty of time for a solid eight hours of shut eye. Maybe it's the weather? My hormones? Whatever - it can go away anytime now. As is it, I pushed my 8:30am mountain bike ride back 1/2 hour (Herb is so flexible that way!). I then puttered around, not accomplishing much (although, I did get my blog up on here about yesterday's ride that I actually wrote last night).

Herb arrived on time, yet I was still scrambling, trying to get my laundry in the dryer. I then went off on this ridiculous tirade about how I have no balance in my life, no time, blah blah blah. It's a wonder that Herb didn't shove my ass in the dryer and turn it on. Instead, he does what he always does when he arrives to find me in these cantankerous moods - shrugged and walked away to load up his bike.

Once the laundry was drying, and I was on the bike, I felt better. My legs, however, didn't get the message this morning that they needed to perform. Instead, there was quad and calf mutiny, a kind of strike if you will, and no amount of "woo-hooing" and BSing Herb that I was so "happy to be on my bike, and oh, how pretty it is out here today" would motivate them into submission. I therefore pedaled as if in deep sand all the way up Sepulveda Blvd. to Mulholland, over to Dirt Mulholland, complaining the whole way.

Our big (and aborted) plan was to ride to the Nike Missile Site, down Mandeville Canyon, back up Sullivan Canyon, over to Reseda and back. Yeah, right. We made it to the missile site (Herb well ahead of me on every climb) and sat in the warm sun with the freezing wind ruining our enjoyment of it, completely defeated. Herb's back was killing him, and my legs at that point were quivering their absolute resolute to fail me. Stupid legs, stupid ride..."blehhhhhhhhhh!" Like I told Herb - from now on whenever he (or I) are complaining or being negative, we can no longer use words. We just have to go "blehhhhhhhhhh!" with our tongues out and down to our chins. This makes it simple for everyone around us to realize what losers we are being.

Aside from all this, there was lots of beauty out there today, if it hadn't been so damn cold with the winds kicking up around us. Oh, and lots of doggies everywhere, very well behaved even when not on leashes. And there was one darling little puppy that I would have stolen if he'd had fit in my backpack. The hikers and other bikers out were friendly too, and really, this should have been an epic ride day. But after considering our options, we voted for the easiest - back the way we came.

So, back along dirt Mulholland we pedaled, down paved Mulholland to Woodcliff and into my neighborhood. We then split a sandwich and cupcake (shhhh) with coffee and cocoa at a local cafe. There were couches there where we sunk deep down into one and just accepted our patheticness. Hey, they can't all be balls-to-the-walls kinds of rides, you know? Sometimes, they need to be brief and end with our butts sunk down into sofa cushions.

Now, as I write this, I'm procrastinating from cleaning up my place which has become (can you guess? and will you be surprised?) a pigsty again. No, I will not get a cleaning lady. If I can't keep my one bedroom apartment clean on my own, I got real issues. Oh, wait...maybe I shouldn't admit that on here, cause, clearly, I can't keep my one bedroom apartment clean on my own.

Sigh. Guess I'll get over to the hardware store. I need to buy a lamp and get glass cut-outs for my coffee table. Good way to keep the procrastination going.

there were signs that said, 'do not feed the animals'

2009-11-14T20:25:00.000-08:00

After last weekend's century and this last week's bout of food poisoning, I wasn't in the mood to go and knock another hard ride out yesterday. In fact, I wanted a flat, easy ride, or if that was not granted, a mountain bike ride (where walking up a hill isn't considered so wussy). I even considered going hiking (to the Bridge to Nowhere) but backed out knowing that I'm not up to that particular hike's hiking shape these days. Therefore, with Herb pestering me about what ride and where, I came up with an old standby, one I've not ridden in over a year - Rio Hondo.

Rio Hondo is a bike path in LA that connects to another bike path (sort of), SGRT, and is near the Long Beach bike path. They can all be found out in Azusa/Duarte area, and are typically accessed (sort of) by SGRT. This means starting at Encanto Park, riding over to the SGRT entrance and following it's winding and, at times, confusing path to the 'Four Corners.' Trying to explain what that is would be impossible, so just envision a fork in the road. One can continue riding straight or bear left. Left takes you to Seal Beach. Staying straight takes you to a busy road, over which you cross twice to get to the other side and into the entrance of Rio Hondo. From there, you pedal about five miles or so to a little park, where tinkling and snacking are usually in order by the time you arrive. Hope all this makes sense and you can somehow imagine what I'm describing.

From Encanto and back, this route is roughly 45 miles. However, today we got close to 50, due to a little excursion to Leg Lake. But before I get to that, the 'we' I refer to was yours truly, Herb and Tom. After I'd decided on this route last minute, I sent an email out to several folks inviting them to join, last minute. Only Tom could swing it. Herb was already on board, of course, and he digs that route (having ridden it many times before). Tom's ridden it too, so no one was going to get lost yesterday (sometimes a concern on that path as it really can confuse a first time rider).

We took off at 9:00am, wanting to take advantage of the cooler weather. Cool it was, breezy too. But the skies were powder blue with the puffy-clouds-thing, and air crisp. I was smiling ear to ear, happy to be riding, happy to be riding the ride I wanted to ride, and happy to have the company. Although, Herb and I were picking at each other from push off. I think Tom could have done without the teasing, bickering and name calling Herb and I put each other through (in jest...mostly), but we're not going to stop. After all, we've ridden way, way, way, way, way too much together this year with CAM and all, and I think this has led to each others' nerves wearing thin. At the end of the day, Herb and I are very good friends, so truly...it.is.just.joking.

Anyway, we pedaled the first 22 miles with ease (and at a relaxed pace) arriving at the park in no time. I was tired from the week, feeling like a slug and not really wanting to ride back. I suggested taking an easier route back to the cars. You see, Rio Hondo forms a kind of U shape and ends near where the ride begins in Encanto (well, by a few miles west, anyway). One can skip the 22+ miles back by jogging over on busy, trafficked streets to the Santa Fe Dam. We chose not to do that after Herb looked downright puckered at my suggestion. Fine...it was take the 22 miles back then, and boy was I glad I did.

As we arrived at the 'Four Corners' again, Tom suggested that we head out to Legg Lake to check out the ducks ("really mean ducks if I recall," was Herb's input on this). Why not? I'd never been. I can tell you that it's worth the excursion! It's a lovely little lake and, yes, the ducks are there, along with geese and many other types of birds. I squealed upon spying them, put my bike to the side and ran over to feed them part of a rice krispie bar that I had barely nibbled on at the park. Herb rode up to the edge of the trail and sulked.

Tom joined me, and in no time, I was surrounded by hundreds of birds and ducks. Herb is wrong. The ducks are not mean. The geese, however, were downright menacing. I feared for my life had I not had a rice krispie treat to pick pieces off of and throw at them. Finally, after about five minutes of this feeding frenzy, Tom said, "This is turning a little to 'Alfred Hitchcock' for me. I'm leaving. Plus, I don't think we should leave Herb sulking for too much longer." I agreed and backed out and away from the ducks carefully. As I took off and rolled up next to Herb, he informed me, "There were signs that said 'do not feed the animals.'" Great, now he tells me!

From there, we headed back out to SGRT and took off on a strong pace back until, doh!, Tom got a flat. At this point, my stomach growling with hunger, I just watched him and Herb suffer with changing it, while Herb gave instructions on tire seating techniques ("away from the stem.")

Once the flat was fixed, we were finally on our way to the cars and lunch. Our only climb for the day was the Dam, and I slugged up it. Never gets any easier for some reason.

At the cars, we quickly changed and headed to Green Onion for lunch. Nothing better than chicken tortilla soup and fruit with lime and chili!

Herb had a Tostada, but had to spend five minutes picking all the olives off of the top. Like I said to Herb, "How anyone can not like olives is beyond me."

"Well, aren't there things you don't like to eat?" Tom asked me in a teasing tone.

"Yes there is. Cheesecake. I don't like it, can't stand it, won't eat it. Yuck."

"How anyone cannot like cheesecake is beyond me," Herb chimed in. "That's just un-American."

That was my Saturday. Good one, good ride, and last night I was completely knackered. I slept nine and a half hours last night. I needed it. Now, I have a mountain bike to prepare for, and amazing weather to look forward to riding in. Yippee!

the sad-sack...act is over

2009-11-11T08:11:00.000-08:00

Recently, I whined on here about having to ride another century...another one. My 11th for the year (not counting that one little bonus century, which really brings it to 12, but whose counting?) and the 11th in the Century-a-Month Challenge that I took on again this year so that my friend, Herb, would have a reliable riding partner (so far, I've not let him down). By the 10th (last month), I was over it, challenge or no challenge. So, I grumbled and moaned about having to ride another one, sad little me. I think the word 'pathetic' is never more fitting than in my case. After all, there are some folks in this world who can't ride 1 mile let alone 100 for reasons beyond their control, and I should be grateful I can. Therefore, the sad-sack, whoa-is-me, gotta-do-it act is over. I look forward to riding CAM 12, can't wait, woo-hoo!!! And, yes...I.Do.To.Mean.It.

Now, about that CAM 11...

Herb mapped it out that we'd start at The Hub (his driveway), ride up to the Montrose area (a regular route), out to Encanto Park in Duarte, up Highway 39 to East Fork, over to Camp Wilson Cafe (what I always just call 'East Fork Cafe') and back. Our plan was to start at 7:00am since the days turn darker an hour or so sooner. I was not happy with this plan, but I managed to waddle my buttage out of bed in time to dress, grab the bike, pet the dragon and arrive at Herb's just 10 minutes shy of departure time. I think we actually departed around 7:15am, but neither of us looked at our watches. Since it was just the two us, no one complained.

As we clipped in and pushed off, we were both grateful for our leg warmers, arm warmers, base layers and vests. It was cold! - coldest morning I've ridden in this year. It was also invigorating. I didn't sleep well the night before (never do) and was a little stiff in the beginning. The leg warmers helped, although it still took the climb up Verdugo to get me warmed up. It was on the climb that I realized what I'd be plagued with all day - crappy climbing legs. I hate when that happens. No matter how hard I pedaled, I just couldn't go very fast, and Herb easily dropped me. I mashed, I spun, and swore - no use, I simply couldn't get up the hill at a speed greater than 'too-slow.'

At the top, we swung by Herb's office and dropped our leg warmers there. The sun had shown her full face by this time, warming the air and us considerably. We still needed arm warmers and vests as we continued on our descent down Foothill Blvd. into Pasadena. This section of the route is fairly straight forward and rarely eventful (thank goodness). Saturday morning traffic was light (to be expected) and our pace steady. My legs were fine if not stellar on the flats and descents (duh) but failed me miserably even on the tiniest roller. I didn't let it bother me as I wasn't that far back from Herb on the climbs, and he didn't need to wait much more than a few seconds for me to crest any hill.

By the time we arrived at Encanto Park, a break was welcomed. We'd ridden 30 miles by then and were well warmed. I munched on Shot-blocks while Herb ate his banana (always has at least one banana on a ride). The Park was packed, and we saw many cars with bike racks. Must have been a Baldy run taking place, and I imagined the Adobos were out killing the hills in style. We didn't stay long enough to find out, and geared up to leave.

As I tried filling my water bottles at the Park, I noticed a milky white residue in the water. Eww! I showed Herb, and he agreed that I couldn't drink that. I had no water and 15 miles, most of it climbing, to cover before the next water stop. I told him that I thought I'd be fine and would sip off some of his water. Neither of us were convinced of this but took off in the direction of Hwy 39 anyway. We took the SGRT bike path over from Encanto and at the northern end where it meets Hwy 39 is a Forest Ranger Station. It use to just be a little shack, but not now. They've built it up very nicely and have included bathrooms and a water fountain! The water there was crystal clear, and I filled both my bottles before taking off on the climb up the scenic highway that stretched out before us.

Some folks don't like Highway 39. They think it too trafficked and dangerous. My friend, and uber-endurance rider, Francis, was struck by a car and left unconscious years ago on 39. But I've never had an issue or even felt threatened. I've had more close calls right here in my neighborhood by cars pulling out of their driveways not bothering to look for cyclists (or cars for that matter). I also find 39 beautiful as it runs up through the section of the San Gabriels that connects Angeles Crest to Mt. Baldy.

My friend, Bob, would laugh at that description as it's just so silly (they don't really connect except in my weird, cyclist mentality). But that's how I see it - one big playground of mountain roads and canyons leading way to adventures and epic rides. Of course, Angeles Crest was ravaged with fire this year, so following Hwy 39 to Hwy 2 and around is no longer an option (not that I'm in the shape right now to accomplish that ride, anyway). The only way to use Hwy 39 at present is to head in the direction of Baldy, which means turning right at East Fork Road.

On Saturday, the beauty of Highway 39 that I always describe to others was there in abundance, only it had been scarred by the recent fires. You don't see the damage until you are halfway up the canyon, and given that you are too distracted by the beauty of the San Gabriel Dam on your right, it takes a few minutes to focus on the destruction to your left, up into the canyon hillsides.

The path the fire took is evident and only does it stop at the river's damp edges. In place of what was once thick brush are now blackened sticks, standing testaments to the power of nature. Oddly, after the initial shock of seeing this beautiful canyon burnt, I still found a dramatic beauty in these areas, as if some tragic story had been told in whispers of hot flame and through which, I was only a passing tourist. Most encouraging, I saw many outbursts of new brush spotting the burnt ground - Mother Nature already healing her many injuries.

On the climb up, my legs again nothing but thick, useless logs, I watched Herb go on ahead. Why I was climbing so slowly was beyond me, but I just kept pedaling. There were breezes keeping the warmth at bay as the day had turned toasty. Southern California is known for these types of temperature jumps, and they can wreak havoc on the back, especially a back like mine (bulging disc in L5). I kept getting overheated and then chilled on the downhills, but mostly I was fine with it. I'm not sure what was going on, but even with heavy climbing legs, I still felt strong and happy to be on my bike. The endorphins had set in by this point, my mood was lifting and the day's ride improving.

At East Fork, it was just a few more miles until we were treated with a huge basket of deep fried goodness. Both Herb's and my eyes were bigger than our stomachs, and we ordered onion rings alongside our french fries, and two cokes! We didn't eat it all, but laughed at our gluttony. Those fries were so good if not a little greasy, and with ample salt and ketchup, I could feel my blood sugar rise with each bite. We didn't stay too long (although this was our longest break of the day), as we had more climbing to tackle on the way back down 39 in the form of rollers; nothing too daunting but the day was creeping by.

As we got back on our bikes and out onto 39, we'd cooled considerably. My legs were now stiff and the slow-climbing-thing was getting to me. I stopped my bike and hollered to Herb to stop.

"Herb! Come help me," I cried, while making a 'pucker-face' for dramatic emphasis.

"What? A flat tire?" Herb was off digging in his saddle bag even before I could reply.

"No, I think it's my back brakes. They have to be rubbing. Remember how on the last CAM they were rubbing and we realized that was what was slowing me down all day?"

Herb didn't reply and just got busy with some tool, loosening/adjusting my back brakes. I teased him with, "don't break them!" and "are you sure they'll work and not kill me trying to brake?" before he finally finished tinkering. It was then back on the bike and off of East Fork onto Hwy 39. Now, it could have been psychological, but lo and behold, it was so much easier to pedal! Sheesh...I really need to take Patsy in for an overall tune up so that I don't have these issues.

As we continued along 39, we struggled. The canyon is known for its afternoon headwinds, and we were struck hard by them. The winds were relentless and even on sections where we should have sailed down the hills, we were creeping along under 30 mph. We hadn't expected this (although we should have, tsk tsk), and I knew we were losing precious time. At Encanto Park, we took a quick potty break and agreed that we'd skip the Cuban Bakery where we initially planned to take another food break. Instead, we swung by a small market in Monrovia, grabbed drinks and a snack (dill pickle & Beetlejuice, for the win!) and took off again. This meant very few breaks for the day and heavy pedaling for a good 30 miles (up hills on 39 and back down in headwinds). It had taken its toll! Both of us were fatiguing, and worse still, the day had turned chilly.

As we slogged along Orange Grove, my legs still deadwood, I thought of how great a beer would taste, I thought of warm clothes, a hot shower and a taco. I was getting grumpy and the endorphins were beginning to fade. Damn! Luckily, we didn't have far to go before hitting a long descent into the final stretch of the ride. I knew I could HTFU and make it. Herb was standing a lot and stretching on the bike, which meant his back hurt. We needed another break, but our daylight was waning. I told Herb we should pull over even if for 5 minutes and stretch, and he agreed. We did just that in the Pasadena neighborhood above the Rose Bowl - just pulled on over into someone's driveway and I sat on the curb, stretching my legs out before me while Herb did some painful looking leg-bendy-things.

I looked at Herb who was grimacing as he bent and stretched one long leg to the side of him, "Here is the time in the ride where I say, 'when the going gets tough...' and you say...?"

"Quit." Herb was not in the mood.

I had to laugh. "That was not the right answer, mister," I replied. Although, I was right there with him.

We did not quit, however. No, we got back on our bikes and, at mile 80, climbed the last small (but, oh so painful) hill out of Descanso Gardens to Foothill. From there it was a glorious, five mile descent to Glenoaks and over to Senora, and then....Doh!

"Oh, crap," Herb said suddenly.

"What?" I was not in the mood to hear an 'oh, crap' at this point. I could already taste that post ride victory beer.

"We're just barely at mile 90. Map-my-Ride was off on mileage. We've got to add at least 8 miles." See, Herb and I agreed at the beginning of the year that a century ride would be 98 miles to 108 miles in length. Anything less was not a century, anything more than 108 was a double metric. If you are reading this and disagree, too bad, those are our rules and we're sticking to them. Although, I would like it noted here that I feel anything 97 miles to 120 miles is a century, but Herb refused those parameters.

Having to add 8 miles when you're tired, cold and craving beer is miserable. I speak from experience. Oh, and to add injury to insult, it was getting dark, as in 'cars had their headlights on' dark. Not ideal conditions to be riding in on a Saturday, near-evening. It was now 4:30pm - and Herb got a flat tire that had to be fixed! - and our only option was to pedal like crazy through Griffith Park, along Forest Lawn and back to get the full 98 miles. It was downright cold by that time, and the sun was leaving us for good. As we neared Herb's neighborhood, I asked him, "Where we at?" (I still don't ride with an odometer for no other reason than laziness.)

"We're shy a mile and a half. I say we just ride around the block, and it is what it is." Herb was as miserable as I was, and being so close to home was messing with his head.

"OH, NO YOU DON'T," I snapped in a tone that got his attention. "You've spent all year giving me crap about how it has to be 98 miles on the dot or it's not considered a century, and you're not changing the rules now just cause you're tired." Believe me, Herb will thank me for this later, but at the time I said it, I think he honestly wanted to beat me senseless.

He grumbled something under his breath and relented. We then rode up and down the streets by his house (including his street) until we got to 98.5 miles. Phew! I was so happy to dismount. It was now 5:00pm on the nose and dark! But we did it. Yippee!!! Cam 11 in the books.

you've got hives

2009-11-10T17:30:00.000-08:00

Before I get to CAM 11 - which I completed, by the way - or the rest of my weekend, I'm putting this on here to sniff and snivel. I would have written sooner than now but honestly haven't felt like it. I had put yesterday evening aside to write and do many other things around my place. Having tomorrow off from work for Veterans Day, I was so excited to be going on what was to be a challenging, fun-filled mountain bike ride with Joannie. Now, those plans are shot and nothing got accomplished last night.

I think it's sushi that caused it, but I was hit with a terrible bout of food poisoning last night. It came over me in an icy, throat-watering wave on my drive home. I barely got up the steps and into my apartment before all hell let loose. For five hours straight, 6-11pm, I suffered from symptoms I don't think I need to describe on here. I will, however, urge anyone who is like me - hates to puke - when you get hit with food poisoning or a stomach flu, just do it and get it over with! Since I'd had a salad for lunch yesterday loaded with red bell peppers, I now have another food to add to the 'I'll never be able to eat that again' list. Yuck.

I then tossed and turned from 11pm to 6am, miserable with cramps. I decided to go to work since I am still new and, really, I've got too much to do right now to be taking off any time at all. I was weak and foggy-headed when I arrived and it didn't take but an hour into the morning to start itching like crazy. I looked at my right arm and noticed bumps. I figured, "great, food poisoning and bitten by a spider." Nope, the bumps kept spreading, getting bigger and turning red.

A coworker swung by my desk and when I showed her my bumps, she insisted, "you've got hives!" I then showed them to my boss and everyone else all while getting itchier and itchier. I was told to go home (not by my boss, but he had no issue with it), so I did. I then proceeded to take the advice of my coworkers and took a Benadryl. I've never in my adult life taken one of those little pink pills. I've never had the need. So, little did I know it would turn me into a walking zombie (the vegetarian kind). I'm so drugged up and listless, I can barely type this, AND I've been sleeping on and off while having bizarre, wordy dreams for the last 4-5 hours. I'm going to have to take another one just so I can sleep tonight at all.

I realize none of this is the least bit entertaining and is about as bland as the Saltines I'm eating at present (washed down with Gatorade) but since I haven't reported on CAM 11 yet, I wanted it noted why. Even I'm not that lazy. As for the ride report, it will be coming tomorrow. Now, I go back to bed in hopes that I'll be normal in the AM.

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 accusatory 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!