Cynicism

I like believing in the little guy. That might be because, more often than not, I am the little guy.

I also like believing in the guy that's the dreamer, although -- more often than I'd like -- I'll have some derisive comment in my mind when I hear about somebody doing something that's a little bit out there.

I'm working on cutting back on my cynicism. That said, self-deprecation is another thing entirely.

"Not much has been accomplished by cynical people." -Garrison Keillor

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Keillor's actually talking about St. Paul, Minnesota, but I think it applies anywhere. You can see the whole clip on ABC news. It's worth a watch.

Hannah gets a new bike

I swear, I used no effort to find that picture -- it must have been fate.
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Hannah is the lucky soon-to-be-recipient of a brand new bike. Through a strange confluence of interweb-related events, I found out Javelin Bikes is closing out all of their older aluminum models. These are fully built bikes with all components included, for less than what the frame alone normally costs. Again, through sheer luck, Hannah is going to wind up with a better bike than mine, for about half the price.

As I'm sure you'll agree, we figured buying a new bike was a more fiscally-responsible thing to do than renting a bike in Lake Placid for $60 for the one day we're going to go riding. Plus, I can snag her bar-end shifters when we swap out her bullhorn bars for regular road drop bars (I know, I know, bike terminology gobbledygook for the majority of you). So that saves us another $100 since I won't have to buy new shifters for my own bike (the housing on my shifters is cracking). This bike is paying for itself already! Lest you think this is completely at odds with my last post, we've been looking for a new bike for Hannah for a while now. The fact that we try to keep things simple in our lives allows us to buy bikes or new washing machines (only marginally less cool than a new bike) without undo worry.

There's one other super-special bonus that comes from buying this bike: since Hannah will now have two bikes (and I already have two bikes), that means I'm next on the bike buying rotation. My nefarious master plan is all coming together.

Simple isn't easy

I'm a fan of following a basic week when it comes to my training. If I keep the simple training schedule as non-optional, then it gets done.

It also works for all the other (more important) priorities in my life: Hannah, my job, finances, etc. I've been most successful in my life when I've said, "I am doing this" and let other things fall in place where they can. If something doesn't fall in place, then it's probably not that important.

The catch is, keeping things this simple isn't so easy. There's a lot of outside pressure to adjust to the contemporary standard. An overly superficial example is cable TV. I don't have any issue with cable (or satellite) TV itself, but for me, it's a huge time waster. I won't be able to accomplish what I want to get done if I'm sitting in front of the TV.

So, now I don't have cable (although, at the time when we first broke away from it, I vaguely remember throwing a fit: "How can we NOT have cable?"). Taking it out of the equation made my decision easier. Of course, I do like Man vs. Wild and the other shows on Discovery, so there's always that desire in the back of my mind. That gets addressed every other week for a day or so since we have cable in Texas (it comes with the Interweb). Hannah's the one that has to fight with the daily lure of Dirty Jobs.

A few years back, when I got my first apartment (and cable), I remember talking to my brother (who did not have cable) about some great show on MTV. I couldn't fathom that he wasn't able to watch it and in fact, didn't care about watching it. Now, I can't remember the last time I cared about MTV (it's probably around the time I left that apartment). Incidentally, JNM now has cable, but last I checked, he didn't have time to watch it anyway. So that's one way to not waste hours in front of the TV -- be out of your house all the time.

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That title came from Father Peter Pearson's homily at St. Philip's in New Hope this past weekend. I wasn't clever enough to come up with it on my own, so I borrowed liberally.

Alternate life

Last night at dinner with my folks and one of my brothers, my mom asked what we would do if we didn't have to work for a living. My immediate answer was I wouldn't work.

When she clarified that to ask what if we were independently wealthy, I still stuck to the same answer: I'd do basically everything I do now, except I wouldn't have the career part. We'd be in the Adirondacks tomorrow.

I believe she asked the question under the general assumption that people aren't happy with their full-time jobs. I know at least one of my brothers falls into that category. But, the truth is, I genuinely enjoy my job. I like business. I like Ayn Rand. Will I want to be working in a big corporation five to 10 years from now? I don't know, but right now I do.

What we didn't talk about, but I thought about after, was, if I could/had to start over on a different career path, what would I do? There's always kinesiology, but truthfully, I'm not that into the science of sport. I enjoy knowing what I know and seeking out more information, but I tune out when it comes to the intricacies of VO2 and blood lactate.

Odds are I'd be an industrial engineer. I'm a process guy; that's where my strengths are. What's nice is, I can still do that kind of work in the future. So again, I'm doing what I want to be doing.

This is all interesting to me, because, despite going to school with a whole mess of engineers, it wasn't until entirely too recently (years after I left college) that I learned that industrial engineers aren't the guys that build these:


That's odd, because it's not like I thought civil engineers were guys that wrote books like this:

Cycling videos - IT band

Backdated from 8/31/09 to keep off the front page. If you come across this through an RSS feed or random searching and you have no idea why I'm riding my bike in my driveway on a perfectly nice day, just ignore it and move along.

Tri bike rear


Tri bike front



Road bike rear, front, side



It doesn't look like there's much if any play in my foot on the down-stroke on either my road or tri bike, in either my new (tri bike) or older (road bike) shoes. It does look to me that my right knee is coming in towards the top tube. I've noticed that while I'm riding as well.

I have no idea if my road bike position is good or not. I've been on the road bike more the last few weeks as my tri bike was in the shop.

Notes: Apparently my driveway isn't level side to side, so the trainer is rocking a bit more than normal in the tri bike videos. I fixed that for the road bike video.

More notes: It also seems that going from iPhoto to iMovie to Blogger makes the video super small.

Balance

I've been a little down lately and a tiny bit stressed. That's mostly due to people constantly asking if I'm stressed about the wedding. The answer: "No, I'm not." The thought-but-not-spoken next sentence: "But you people constantly asking me is bugging the heck out of me." I've mentally been ready for my life with Hannah for a while now, the wedding is just a formality (albeit a very nice one, with God confirming what we already talked about).

With my brain a little out of whack, I keep flip flopping between extremes of what I should be doing right now. For example:

"I should get rid of my TV" vs. "I should add more movies to have at one time to my Netflix queue."

"I should buy a whole bunch of swimming stuff since I'm going to start swimming again" vs. "I should stick with the same beat up speedos I've had for the last few years... if you put enough of them on at once, they're not that sheer."

"I should buy a new bike" vs. "I should strip down my road bike to make it as simple as possible."

The true path that I'll take is, of course, the same that I've taken for the last few years: the most balanced one.

"I'll keep the TV, but continue to watch less and less of it."

"I'll replace my beat up swimsuits but hold off on any supercool stuff until I need it."

"I'll buy Hannah a bike."

Saved by China

Like many people, I've been watching oodles of Olympics. In addition to the random sports that I'd catch like table tennis and weightlifting, I was seeking out a few key sports: last week was swimming and rowing, the weekend into early this week was triathlon, and the last two nights have been open water swimming.

With all that swimming, I'm sure you noticed the super swim suits from Speedo (how could you not?). What you may not have noticed is the few other suits from other brands: TYR, Blue Seventy, Finis, and -- I think -- Arena. The Blue Seventy suit is the interesting one of the also-rans.

Blue Seventy started as a triathlon wetsuit company. Recently, they branched into "swimskins" -- a wetsuit-like suit that isn't anywhere near as buoyant and is designed for "non-wetsuit" events. It's FINA (the swimming governing body)-approved, and, as such, it's in the Olympics for those athletes that seemingly either couldn't get their hands on a Speedo LZR, or wanted to try something different to stand out.

In open water swimming (Olympic debut this year!), the race is a 10k. Blue Seventy, with their roots in triathlon, is the industry leader here, not Speedo.

One of the other wetsuit companies that also makes a swimskin is Xterra. I think there's a few of that companies' suits in the open water race. Since Blue Seventy is the Speedo of open water swimming, that makes Xterra the Blue Seventy in the sport. Ummm... yeah, that sort of makes sense.

To make a long story even longer, Xterra is offering a 50% discount on their entire product line, including their swimskin. It's a cool suit, and, with all the Olympians looking and going super fast, my gear lust (which I usually can keep under control) started to get the best of me.

I had the "purchase" screen up on my computer. My mouse was hovering over the button. Never mind that the Xterra suit is only designed for open water swimming -- it's so rigid and tight in the back that you can't bend over (that means no pool swimming: flip turns and dives are out) -- it's super cool and could genuinely give me a speed boost in those few events I do that don't allow a wetsuit. Never mind that I probably wouldn't use it for over a year. Never mind that, even at 50% off, it's still well over $100.

I happen to own an Xterra wetsuit that I bought in a similar sale this past spring. For reasons I can't explain, I went and put it on (I've yet to actually swim in it -- Texas is a little hot and the Passaic is a little gross in an illness-via-bacteria/virus/pollution-sort-of-way). After almost passing out (who stands around in a fully enclosed suit of neoprene in the middle of the summer inside a not particularly well-ventilated apartment? Me, of course.), I took the suit off and admired it's coolness.

It was then that I noticed where Xterra has their suits produced and that was the final push I needed to realize it was a bad purchase for me. So, thank you China for saving me $125+ on something I'd probably never wear and want a new version of in a year anyway.


It's still cool though.

You've got to be kidding me

Hannah and I raced in the Wool Capital Triathlon in San Angelo last weekend. We both did pretty well.

Now, I've lost races on the run. I've lost races on the bike. But I don't think I've ever placed well in a triathlon based on my swim performance. As luck would have it, after swimming less than three hours over the last 12 months, I finished 20th overall and third in my age group. 8th overall in the swim.

We started in the last wave, ten minutes behind the first wave. Since the bike is on an out and back course, I was able to count how many people were ahead of me. I counted 30. That means I passed about 100 people in the swim.

There are two ways to look at that. Either I'm a phenominal talent who just hasn't had my crack at the Olympic Trials or most people really can't swim well. There was one dude in one of those super expensive "swim skins" plodding along swimming breastroke.

Maybe -- instead of spending $300 on a suit -- the money would have been better spent on some swim lessons and a pair of these.

I dunno, I'm just sayin'...

Trapped

You always hear about how trapped everyone feels in small or remote towns, especially the angsty high school kids (actually, I think every angsty high school kid feels trapped, whether they’re in a small town or not). It’s always complaints about how there’s nothing to do, or no way to get out to where the excitement is.

But I feel trapped in the New York metro area. There’s excitement aplenty, but I’d trade it all to be able to ride my bike out my front door without the overwhelming fear of death by automobile or without having to stop every eighth of a mile at a traffic light. I don’t even live that close to the city. I couldn’t imagine trying to run or ride in New York. Maybe that’s why all the NYC triathletes I meet seem so surly.

I don’t know if it’s claustrophobia or what. In any event, I’ve taken to going to work earlier and earlier – not so that I can necessarily get more work done (which I do) – but so I can avoid the crowds. I walk two sides of a triangle so I can avoid Times Square (the hypotenuse route would take me right through it). I love my job, but unless they develop a way for me to teleport to work and then teleport home to Alaska, I’ll probably always feel cornered.

I’ve written this while stuck in Newark airport on a Friday evening. Technically I'm not actually trapped here -- I could always walk out -- but where could I go without missing my flight? My flight’s delayed, which means I’ll miss my connection, which means it’s another night in a hotel in Dallas before an early wake up for the earliest flight to San Angelo. All because the NYC area is too crowded. Even the skies are too crowded.

Clearly, I’ve become a grumpy crank well before my time. If I had a lawn, I’d be yelling at you to stay off it.

My moment of glory... missed

I raced in the Brigantine sprint tri on Saturday and did really well, especially as I felt I didn't run to my potential (of course, I might have been overestimating my potential).

It turns out I got third in my age group (of 33) and 52 overall (of about 450). Naturally, I missed my moment of triumph as I was sitting on my friend's front lawn drinking a beer. We decided to stroll over to the awards ceremony to get the free food they always offer and clap for the people who won things. When we arrived they were on the 35-39 age group (they count up in awards ceremonies).

I only realized I got an age group podium place when I was looking at the results taped on a nearby van. I read my time and overall place and then figured I'd see how many people in my age group beat me. I counted to two over and over again, before I gave up and asked the race director the names of the top three guys in my age group.

I then got to rummage around in a box for my medal. Ahhh, the glory of placing.

The rest of the weekend

While volunteering at the IM and registering for next year were the main points of our trip to Lake Placid last weekend, Hannah and I also took the time to wander around.

On Saturday we went for a hike to the top of Mt. Hurricane. We hadn't planned that in advance -- a few weeks ago I picked up a map of the High Peaks region of the Adirondacks (one of four or five maps for the whole park -- it's big) -- we just looked at the map and decided that was as good a trail as any. There are so many trails up there that it would probably take years to get to them all... and then we'd have to get one of the other maps and start all over in a new section.

The hike was tough but not killer. Lots of scrambling over rocks and crossing some bogs (remember all that rain I mentioned last time?). Despite a mostly overcast day, we got some decent views at the top.
I used to think that I photograph terribly, but in looking over all the pictures, I think it's actually the fault of the photographer. There were probably 15 pictures of me from the hike and these two are the best of the bunch.

Obviously, this is me about to do my Tyrannosaurus Rex impression. Why she didn't wait to capture the moment in it's glory, I don't know.

I suppose this one isn't so bad, although right before, a hawk had landed on my shoulder and a bear was eating out of my hand. Again, bad timing on Hannah's part.

But contrast the shots of me with this one of Hannah (I only took three, all superbly excellent). Clearly, I'm a much more talented photographer.

I'm in

After volunteering in the pouring rain at Sunday's race and getting in line Monday morning at 5:45, I'm all signed up for the '09 Ironman in Lake Placid.

The volunteering was a lot more enjoyable than I expected it to be. Hannah and I handed out water bottles for over six hours to lots of soaked, frozen and exhausted -- but mostly appreciative -- athletes.

The weather was absolutely miserable. It started raining about ten minutes into the race and didn't let up all day. What was somewhat shocking was how many people either didn't prepare for the bad weather, or chose to forgo warmer clothing. High 60s/low 70s in the rain is not ideal weather for a sleeveless tri top and shorts. I wonder how many people blew up their races by not taking the time to dress warmer.

We did see a number of people wearing their special needs bags on lap two of the bike, which was probably a smart, last resort thing to do.

It's always neat to see this, even if I've never actually seen it live.

The Big Plan

On Thursday night, Hannah is flying up from Texas. On Friday morning, we're driving to Lake Placid to volunteer for this year's Ironman.

On Monday, I'll be in line bright and early to sign up for the 2009 race. That may not seem too exciting to you, but it is to me. I've been saying that I wouldn't return to IM until I knew I could achieve the fitness I need for a breakthrough race. All that happened this year -- much quicker than I thought.

I've been laying the groundwork. Next year will be a big year.

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In case you're wondering, no I didn't post that entry in August of '07, although I did write it then.

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Of course, there's always the possibility that despite volunteering and lining up super early, the race might fill before I can sign up. I've been trying to tell myself it's not a big deal if that happens. There are other races out there.

My buddy

Despite great weather, I spent most of the weekend indoors on my bike trainer.

On Saturday, after a night spent throwing up (it had nothing to do with the quality of my brother's play that I went to see on Friday; more likely, it was a result of the bar RDM and I went to before the show -- either the food, beer or Red Sox paraphernalia), I opted to ride my bike indoors on my trainer. If I was going to get sick again, I didn't want to be 20 miles away from my car.

I figured, "No worries. I'll get a decent ride outside tomorrow." But my trainer had another trick up it's sleeve. Twenty minutes into a ride that started at the Watchung Reservation (I stopped by on my way home from church in New Hope), my seat post started to slip. Normally, I'm used to my knee tapping my chest while I ride, but that's when I'm on my tribike and I'm leaning forward over my aerobars. It's not supposed to happen when I'm sitting up on my road bike. I think I might have been more comfortable on a BMX bike. Since my trainer had slyly removed my multitool from my seatbag, I had to stop when I came around past the car.

So, after an 8-mile run, it was back to the apartment for another afternoon with the trainer.

My trainer. Seen from three exciting angles, each conveying the thrill of riding your bike without actually going anywhere or seeing anything interesting.

I love the Olympics

Say what you want about commercialism and politics, but I still love the Olympics.

I've never seen any greater drama.

Or more genuine excitement.

And this is only the trials.

Also, I'd like to thank NBC for streaming everything live on the Internet. I'm actually looking forward to their coverage for the first time.

You know, every once and a while I delude myself into thinking that I could make a swimming trials qualifying time if I dropped everything in my life and focused on training. Then I look at the times of the slowest people racing. So maybe, if I dropped everything in my life and focused on training, I might be able to make the women's qualifying time... assuming, of course, that they made that cut slower by about 10%.

Ah well, a man can dream... ummm... of being a fast woman.

Just like riding a bike

On Sunday I rowed in a double with my friend Ian at a masters race in Princeton. I've done about five hours of rowing over the past three years, so I expected this to not be much fun (while still being fun, of course).

But my expectations changed dramatically when I learned we'd be in the same race as another friend from my Nereid rowing days who is now rowing for a different club in north Jersey. I had never lost to this other friend in anything rowing-related, and I wasn't about to let the fact that I don't row anymore stand in my way.

I'm happy to report that I continued to keep my unbeaten streak alive.

Witness the bruising we inflicted on my rival (while simultaneously ignoring the fact that I edited out the results for the two crews that beat us):

Mutual friends were asking if my rival knew about our rivalry, to which I replied, "Of course not."

If we had lost, I would have congratulated my opponent for a well-won race, and would have made sure to mention that my partner and I hadn't trained together and in fact, I don't even care about rowing, seeing as how I'm into triathlon now and all. I probably would also have pointed out how much I've been travelling and how that almost definitely had an effect on my performance. I'd also have mentioned that I had to borrow somebody else's oars, because, as we all know, oars are highly personalized -- my oars used to have blue grips; these had yellow.

We won though, so I gave my friend a wave, said, "Good race," and proceeded to row away, content in my smug superiority, however misplaced.

Super Mystery Race Revealed!

The big race for me for this season is the Wool Capital Olympic Distance Triathlon in San Angelo. That's not so much of a shocker, seeing has how it's one of only two triathlons in town (and the other was just announced the other day). It's not a huge race by any means, but I'm planning to go as fast as I can. I'd like to try to grab an age group top three, but based on my other races in San Angelo, that might be more a result of who does (or doesn't) show up on race day.

But wait, there's more! Super mystery race part II was such a mystery that I didn't know I was going to sign up for it. I'll be doing the Brigantine Sprint Tri in south Jersey the week before the Wool Capital. Technically, I guess that means it's super mystery race part zero or one-half. I'll be hard pressed to even walk near the podium at this race, let alone get on it -- it's that deep a field.

But wait, there's still more! Super mystery race part -1 was so much of a mystery that I forgot about it. Hannah and I ran in the Run in the Sun 8k in San Angelo this past week. It also served as the Texas 8k state championships. I figure the reason San Angelo received the honor for hosting the 8k championships is because no one else bothers -- could there be a more obscure distance than 8k? That said, I've raced more 8ks in my life than any other distance. That probably says something about my own obscurity.

Uh oh

I did a MAP test this morning. Despite the heat, it turned out pretty good.

MAP stands for Maximum Aerobic Pace. At least, that's the definition I use. There are some variations on the exact terms, but the meaning is the same. In my case, the test is three miles on the track with a heart rate cap (153 for me). The objective isn't to go fast, it's to understand your aerobic pace -- how "fast" you can go without generating lactate (as in lactic acid, not breast milk).

There are various formulas to get that HR cap, but most of them point to 152-154 for me. The important thing isn't to get the exact scientifically perfected HR formula, rather, it's to find something that works and test it repeatedly.

I'd probably be able to track the trend better if I tested every month, but with my limited training time, I prefer to get a regular run in instead of "losing" a session testing every four weeks.

Here are the results from the four tests I've done since I started up training after Lake Placid last fall.

So that's cool. I'm not exactly sure what this means for my race capability, but it's kind of exciting. Consistent training does make you fitter. Who knew?

The Heat Part II: It Gets Hotter

As a well-timed (or awful-timed, depending on your point of view) follow up to my last post, I found my breaking point: whatever today was at 4:00 p.m. in East Rutherford, NJ. (Edit: 94 degrees, 101 degrees with the heat index, 44% humidity).

Worst run in a long, long time. Heat rash, headache, churning stomach...

Blegghhh...

The Heat and the China Express

Last weekend, when I was in Texas, Hannah and I went for a ride. It wound up being about the same amount of time that we usually go for lately (somewhere around three hours), but we didn't get nearly as far, because we circled back and met up with Hannah's friend from work for the last hour.

Also, it was hot. Very, very hot. And very, very revealing, at least to me.

I had always believed I handle heat pretty well, but never really understood how well (actually, I still don't understand exactly how well, but I know more than I used to). With Hannah in San Angelo, where the air temperature regularly reaches boiling point at 4:00 in the morning, I figured she would be at an advantage to me when we go out for runs or rides. I may be fitter, but I wouldn't be able to ride or run as fast, so we'd stick together more than when we were both up north.

An eye-opener was that I've suffered almost no ill effects when I bounce from NJ to TX -- with a few small exceptions I've been able to keep my training rolling. While I'm sure she has adapted significantly, she's had a much tougher go of it. Although hot, I never felt overwhelming stress during our ride. Hannah, on the other hand, was on the verge of losing her breakfast (the protein in our drinks probably didn't help at all either).

I don't have a complete picture of what this means, but it makes me more confident in my chances for my (not quite so) super secret race in August.

Here's Hannah looking all aero before her insides started to catch fire.


As for the China Express: that's what I've been calling Hannah's friend's bike (in my own internal dialogue anyway). Now, a lot of today's bikes are made in China. But this one came from Walmart -- and it's cobbled together with assorted generic parts that I'm expecting to fail sometime in the next six months. All this is fine for a bike that costs less than $200. I wouldn't buy it, but there's a lot of things I wouldn't buy (we did however find a far superior bike at Authority Sports for $150 more -- Chinese made, but competently assembled and speced -- what does that tell you about Walmart?).



Again, all this shouldn't really invite any ridicule. But there are just two things that tip it into the realm of farcical:
1) It has a kickstand.
2) Hannah's friend, seemingly believing that the reason she's faster than him is because of her clipless pedals (the kind you can click your bike shoes into), went to the local bike shop and bought what was probably a $200+ shoe/pedal combination. That's a more expensive method for attaching to your bike than the bike actually cost. And he complains about the seat incessantly -- but won't wear padded bike shorts or buy a new saddle.

So there you go, the China Express -- it might not go fast, or even look fast, but it has expensive pedals.