Tuesday, 7. April 2009, 05:45:54
It's been a busy few weeks since last I wrote anything. A new job really can take its toll on your personal life. Among other things, deadlines are deadlines, and they don't care how much you don't already know. As the new guy in the office, it's my duty to find out what new stuff needs to be learned. Then I have to learn it and turn it into something fabulous. Somehow, over the past few months, that's exactly what I've managed to do.
Thankfully, work and life are finally balancing out again. That means time for the climbing gym, time on the bike, and even a three day weekend recently. It feels good mostly. The climbing gym trips leave me a bit sore the next day, as do the hard rides. That's fine, though; I'd rather feel sore than soft.
On the other hand, racing has gone well, but it hasn't. I hit the road couple of weeks ago at one of the weekly races. It was a struggle racing for the first time in a year. A long layoff compromises the confidence, which is the only thing that makes up for a lack of aerobic conditioning. As it was, I hadn't ridden very much lately. Ten minutes into a 45 minute race, my lungs were burning. My stomach was cramping. My quads were on fire.
Man, I loved it!
I managed to hang on at the first race until the last lap, when I peeled off. Sprinters win those races. My friend Sean is a sprinter. He's super fast over the last 100 meters, and I'm... not. Just the same, racing is a rush! I finish near the front of the pack, and that's fine. I figured that the next Tuesday night race would be a little smoother. It was going really well until we had two laps to go. That's when three guys went down in front of me at 25 MPH (40 km/h).
That doesn't leave many options: (a) run over somebody and crash, (2) voluntarily crash, (d) come up with something else. I opted for the last choice, slamming down on both brakes, skidding to within a couple feet (half a meter) of the downed rider before releasing the rear brake. That let my back wheel come up off the ground while the front wheel stayed put. I jumped off and sidestepped the guy, the catalyst for this whole debacle in motion.
It saved me from hitting the ground, from hitting somebody else; but ditching a bike at speed can do a number on your components. The titanium bike frame was fine, but both derailleurs and one shifter are done for. Fortunately, in the Age of eBay and the Epic of Craigslist, hard-to-find parts groups are easy to obtain. The rear derailleur hanger (one small part of the bike frame) is bent so my greasy, gun metal gray baby is in the shop for a few days,
i.e., no racing this week.
In case anybody's wondering, I do
occasionally ride for pleasure, which was the plan for our recent three-day weekend. Steph has a week between academic quarters at the college where she teaches. I have unused vacation time. We pooled the temporal resources and took a Friday through Sunday trip to a not so faraway locale. We headed up to
San Juan Island, one of Washington state's 300+ islands in Puget Sound. It's one out of a
group that lies about three hours northwest of Seattle: 90 minutes by car, 90 minutes by ferry.
Our plans were simple: rent a small apartment for a couple days (check!), drive around Friday afternoon (check!), take lots of pictures (check!), ride our bikes around the island (unchecked). Saturday was supposed to be cool weather with a little rain. It was slightly warmer than predicted. It was also much wetter. The past two winters have been so wet that I've lost all patience for riding in the rain.
We realized our meteorological prospects and opted for a drive instead. It worked out well enough in the end, as the pictures can attest. Seriously,
have a look! It's a beautiful place. Saturday saw us to the local breakfast spot, the
Whale Museum, Roche Harbor (where
it all began), and the
winery (where we got all the wine for our August wedding).
We did have fun in spite of the weather, hiking quite a bit. We saw a lot of wildlife, too: a red fox (the biggest I've ever seen), black-tailed deer, herons, trumpeter swans, pileated woodpeckers, a pair of
peregrine falcons, and even a
camel. Yes, a camel - a camel named Mona, who isn't exactly part of the wildlife but augments the local fauna nonetheless.
Our trip home was uneventful with one unforeseen circumstance. We'd gotten in line at 8:45, right after the first boat of the day left, hoping to hang out at the coffee shop for an hour. The ferry schedule changed Sunday morning. The 10:00 AM ferry was now leaving at 11:00 AM. We sat down to coffee with resolve that the two hours were going to seem unnecessarily long.
Our sense of time melted without us noticing it. Tourists shuffled in and out. Locals gathered at nearby tables, and we surreptitiously overheard their banter. They weren't discussing anything with gravitas, but it was engaging to listen in. Before we knew it, the ship's horn sounded, beckoning all passengers back to the mainland's version of reality.
Island life really isn't for me. I'd miss riding my bike far and wide, never seeing the same thing twice. Even a small town, well, it would work if it were a pretty special place. The thing is, we lose sight of what life is all about. The city is exciting, but it makes you lose sight of the world at large. Life goes on in wide open spaces without the urgency and stress that we subject ourselves to everyday.
Ya know, I could probably find
something to do for a living on the islands. I might not miss my long rides so much with this view just outside.
WIDGETIZE