Go Time

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24 hours until the Black Hills Olympic Triathlon-Cutter Battle Royale is on! No pay-per-view channels have committed to televising the BHOTCBR YET. Lance’s desperation is becoming more evident by the day. Tuesday he emails asking if I want to do a “short easy spin” Thursday afternoon. I reply that I do and then he tells me the route. . . a medium distance, hilly ride, that you can’t spin easily without falling over. AS IF I was going to take that bait. Oldest trick in the book, try to blow up the old guy 48 hours out. He forgot the wiley part of the old and wiley equation.

So here’s the email I sent him this morning:

Like Michelangelo touching up a masterpiece, I spun easily at the Y this morning for 35 minutes and then ran on the dreadmill for 10. All systems go.

Here’s the reply:

Dude, do yourself a favor and don’t show.  I will accept your concession speech.  My 20 mile spin this afternoon was on fire!  My legs were like lightning and the new tires were like riding on greased rails.  Grease Lightning. I stopped by Bike Tech to true my rear wheel.  The mechanic saw my avg speed on my Garmin and they offered me full sponsorship right there on the spot I didn’t want to ruin my eligibility so I declined, but they gave me a bunch of cool schwag incl. an awesome $220 waterproof cycling jacket for $100 and my wheel, brakes, and headset all fixed for free. No Michaelangelo here.  Rather I just put the final edge on my carving knife.  The course is my platter and you, my friend, are the turkey.  Tru dat! P.S. I would carpool with you, but you probably won’t want to stick around that long after the race to watch me receive my second consecutive podium medal and the Cutter Trophy.  On second thought you might be just finishing about the time the award ceremony is starting so perhaps that will work after all.

Let’s examine his message a little more closely. “Don’t show.” Right, you wish. I have a nine year streak going. It’s going to take a lot more than a juiced up delusional dreamer to keep me from toeing the line. “The mechanic saw my avg speed….” This one’s easy, the mechanic didn’t realize Lance uses kilometers as a nod to his European fans. Wowwwww, 25k per/hour, I’m scared. “Full sponsorship” is what Lance heard, but here’s what they actually said. “Give yourself a fighting chance against old and wiley. Buy a new bike and we’ll throw in a water bottle cage.” “Tru dat!”, no, no, tell me he’s not stealing my signature line. There will be a price to pay for that.

Here’s my final prediction. Lance will cross the line before me, but only because his swimming wave begins six minutes before my geezer one. His kids won’t realize that when I cross the line five and a half minutes after their dad, I’ll retain my crown and accept all the accolades that come with it. Here’s a preview of the podium. (Lance is the younger, taller, more handsome, slower guy on the far right.)

Left to Right, Bronze, Gold, Silver

Left to Right, Bronze, Gold, Silver

:

It’s Never Their Fault

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From a December 2007 NYT article.

“When you get up there that first time and you don’t do well, you’re basically hearing ‘No’,” he said., looking out the window of an office from which you can see all the way to Harlem. “How are you going to approach this ‘no’? Are you going to respect it and put the blame on yourself and improve who you are, or are you going to blame the audience like an idiot?”

“It’s never their fault,” he said. “No matter how late it is, no matter how much they did or didn’t drink, no matter what the sound system is like, no matter how hot the building is or how cold the building is, it ain’t the crowd’s fault. You want to get up there, you want to be a good boy, you want to headline, that’s what you have to go in there with.”

Guess who.

Even though it’s a different context, this excerpt reminds me of a common dynamic among some middle and high school teachers and their students. When some middle and high school teachers bravely try out innovative, student-centered methods like cooperative learning, socratic seminar discussions, simulations, or debates, and things don’t go perfectly the first time, they’re far too quick to conclude, “These students just aren’t mature enough to handle anything but traditional lectures, answering textbook questions, and completing worksheets.”

What would happen if instead of projecting their lessons’ shortcomings onto their students, and often, their students’ families and communities by extension, they took our mystery comedian’s “It’s never their fault” approach to heart?

The Week That Was—8/31-9/6

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M—8/31 T W R F SA SU Total
S 4,000

2k-30:55

200×8 p/b

2:55493:10

 2,000 Ward Lake

wetsuit

6+, 9:35, 9:25, 6+

 6,000 √
C 56 2k’ 20.2

peak

 40 solo 1,200’ 18.3 20 indoors

1:08

:30racepace

 116 √+
R 7.3 6.7 9.7 24 √

S: p/b=paddles/buoy and 2:55493:10 means I did my eight 200’s on 3:10 starting with 2:55’s and descending to 2:49’s. That’s short course yards for those scoring at home, but I record total distances in meters. Put differently, I swam 4,400 yards on Monday. Quirky I know, but my log, my rules. Lake distances are about 400m and 600m. Someday I’ll have to tuck the garmin into the swim cap to get more precise distances. Water has definitely cooled off over the last three weeks. I should have swam more in the lake this summer to work on sighting. I get lazy, don’t look up often enough, and inevitably drift to the right of my target. Probably need to have my limbs rotated and balanced. Note to self, the shortest distance between two points. . . .

C: Tuesday’s team training ride was my best of the season. Nice to be peaking right before the Cutter Battle Royale. Six days on, four off is a great formula. I felt strong all night and rode aggressively. Might have been the black jersey. Reeled in a solo break, stayed up front, and punched Lance HARD at one point. When I passed him like he was standing still, he said he turned to the other guy he was on a break with and said, “Oh that’s just an old guy showing off, don’t worry about him, he’ll come back to us.” As they say in football, more bulletin board material! Way fun. Even attacked a commuter with panniers over the final miles. In my defense, he passed me hard after I gently slid past him and said hello. I proceeded to ruin his night and his self image. I didn’t expect to see Lance cleaning his gutters as I rode past his house in the middle of Thursday nights ride. Cocky mother thinking he doesn’t have to train to beat the old man.

R: Should have ran F, but spent the morning planning for a 9a meeting. Meeting went much better than it otherwise would have so I guess I should give myself a break. Also should have ran off the bike once or twice. I did mow after Thursday’s ride. If I jog with the mower, can I can convert the time spent into running mileage?

Ted Kennedy-Don Byrnes

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The media spotlight has shifted, but fortunately, I’m not beholden to it. Here’s one perceptive paragraph in a post on Ted Kennedy’s death that’s thoughtful throughout.

“There are of course those on the far right who are so used to hating Kennedy that they’ll not recognize how he was motivated by the best of intentions, how he struggled to overcome personal tragedies and flaws, and how widely respected he was by colleagues on both sides of the aisle.   They’ll demonize him in death, just as many on the left were unable to let Strom Thurmond live down his early segregationist days.  Those people don’t know what being human means, they are too wrapped up in politics and their own biases.”

Watching the aftermath of Kennedy’s death made me think of my dad who was born just five or so years earlier and died as a result of a heart attack fourteen years ago. At first I suppose Kennedy’s death made me think of my dad because of a physical resemblance, but ultimately, because they shared similar personal attributes.

Like Kennedy, my dad excelled at his life’s work, in his case business, rising to be the chief executive officer of two large companies at the time of his death.

Like Kennedy, he was well respected by everyone he worked with. Like Kennedy, that was because he asked genuine questions of everyone irrespective of their status and then listened as if they mattered.

Most impressively of all, like Kennedy, my dad was humble, not needing or wanting public praise for work well done.

Like Kennedy, my dad’s work ethic was off-the-charts.

Unlike Kennedy, my dad grew up in an Eastern Montana family of very modest means. And unlike Kennedy, my dad was not religious or liberal.

But the more I’ve learned about Kennedy over the last few weeks the more convinced I am that those differences wouldn’t have mattered. Had they met, they would have liked and respected one another a great deal.

The world is a better place as a result of the lives they lived.

Long live their memories.

Training Update—8/17-8/30

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8/17 M-AG T-AG W-AG R-AG F-AG SA to Oly SU Total
S 4,000

w/ A

SLO

outdoors

 4,000 √-
C 44 18.7

wrongturn

 26 18.7 70 √
R 8

1:08  600’

 9.5 hills

1:15

invincible

 11.75

1,000’

wrongturn

1:43

 3 32 √+
8/24 M T W R F SA SU Total
S 4,000

slow

15:32

50’s-43?

 4,000

better

15:15

50’s-39

500’s :15

 8,000 √+

(23,000)
C 32 18.2 (low back tire)

1k’+

Woodland-BH-73Z-W

 40 20.6

1,333’

half/half

 35 18.6

633’

Rainer-Tenino-99

 42 19.8

800’

downer

 149 √+

(510)
R 5 39:41 5.3 5.3 10.4 26 √+

(114)

(monthly totals)

S—Only 3 sessions, but each was 4,000 meters. Fun swimming outdoors in CA although I got burned. Also nice to catch A before her season begins.

C—Six days in a row is a p.r. I will feel the benefits the next time I head out. I better feel great, because Lance is killin’ it on two wheels.

R—Central CA was hilly. Lance dropped the hammer at the end of Saturday’s run. The swim only accounts for between 1/8th and 1/10th of Cutter Battle Royale. I guess that explains why two-thirds of Positive Momentum’s readers are going with Youthful Lance.

In Defense of Eavesdropping

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I can’t help myself.

If I’m waiting for an airplane, eating at a restaurant, walking out of a movie, setting up at a triathlon, I tend to listen in to other people’s conversations going on around me. Awhile ago, when eating out, my better half “caught me” smiling at someone else’s conversation and shot me her elementary teacher “disappointed in you” look. I suspect she would prefer it if I focused lovingly on her eyes all the time, waiting patiently for whenever whatever is communicated. 

But her disapproval is misguided because eavesdropping is a form of curiosity, a positive attribute. 

Admittedly, one’s curiosity in the form of eavesdropping can take publicly acceptable and unacceptable forms. I don’t sneak onto the phone as family members are taking calls, I don’t sneak into their email accounts, and I don’t move closer to you at the airport or in the restaurant so that I can hear your conversation. 

One reason I don’t do those things is I don’t have to. To generalize, relative to many other people around the world, Americans are loud, so a lot of times people consciously make their conversations public. I trust you’ve met Loud Cellphone Person once or twice. “I’M DOWN AT THE GATE! Pause. WHEAT! ONION! GREEN PEPPER! BUT NOT TOASTED!” I’m not as fond of eavesdropping on LCP because 1) the content is usually inane and 2) I don’t like having to imagine what LCP’s friend is contributing to the conversation. It’s like watching Serena hit the ball without Venus on the other side.

Listening to talk radio is a form of eavesdropping. Reading is a form of eavesdropping on other people in other places and other times. When we go to a theater, pay $10 to see a film, we sit down with a hundred other people and in essence say, “Let’s all eavesdrop together, shall we?” Why is listening to the radio, reading and watching film, all windows of sorts into other people’s lives, perfectly okay, but listening into a conversation in the chairs, booth, lobby, or bike rack next to me is not? I don’t think all the people on the radio, in print, and on film have given their implied consent.

When I listen in to what other people are saying, and by extension thinking, I’m expanding my perspective on the different ways people interpret their surrounding and make sense of the world. It’s a natural activity of a social being. 

All of us do it, in different forms and to different degrees.

I’m okay, you’re okay.

Whither Fitness Friday?

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Here’s the “Fitness Friday” dilemma. Of course I love the alliteration, but dislike the five day delay it requires. And yes, I HAVE to start the week with Monday. So I’m planning on posting updates of the previous week on Mondays thus necessitating a name change. If I call it “The Week that Was” can I get half alliteration credit? Twelve day update on Monday. 

 

In the meantime, let me provide a more qualitative update on the September 12th Cutter Battle Royale. Most people mistakenly think the sport of triathlon involves three race segments, but in actually there are six: 1) the swim leg; 2) the swim to bike transition; 3) the bike leg; 4) the bike to run transition; 5) the run leg; and 6) the trash talking. 

I’ve been neglecting the sixth segment.

Here’s Lance’s view of me at the finish line.

 

I've fallen and I can't get up

"Ron, I'm sorry I called you old. Please take your foot off my chest. You da' man."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m rounding in to good swimming, cycling, and running shape, but I’m worried about one substantive psychological hurdle. Lance has three of the cutest, nicest kids in todo del mundo and I know he’s going to position them along the last miles of the 35 mile course. It’s one thing to ignore that wimp ass voice that says, “You can’t keep running this fast. Your heart rate is too high. Slow down.” But it’s another thing altogether to ignore this one, “How can you break these kids hearts? How can you knock Lance off the pedestal his kids have him on. You’re the lowest form of life.” 

So my mental imaging recently has focused on his son and daughters in tears as I do my Usain Bolt-imitation over the last mile. As a result, I’m slowly getting comfortable with the reality that they will never look at their daddy with the same innocent awe.

Also, since Lance is a trooper, I feel I should make it known that I will be packing heat as well. Here’s my weapon of choice.

When I pass you the picture will be much more blurry

When I pass you the picture will be much more blurry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know what you’re thinking. That bike isn’t set up for triathlon. Where are the aero-bars, the disk wheel, the bling? My admittedly low-tech approach is my way of leveling the field and making the race more fair.

Here are some of my tools of the trade.

Tools of the trade

Tools of the trade

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I didn’t have a few syllabi to finish, I’d continue going Gary Payton on Lance, but I don’t want to run the risk of Lance deciding not to show up at the show down.

No Human is an Island

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Updating John Donne a bit. I’ve always been interested in social psychology. More specifically, I’ve been intrigued by how we’re influenced by those around us. One of the myths the right loves to perpetuate is that of the “self-made” man or woman. Admittedly, we have much more of an individualist ethic than more collectivist oriented societies, but the “self-made” man/woman idea almost always breaks down when examined closely. Typically, with whatever we accomplish in life, we have lots of other people to thank for their contributions. It’s just that some, for reasons I’m not entirely sure of, are loathe to admit that.

Rather than explore that idea more deeply, today I’m most interested in what might be thought of as “interpersonal interdependence.” Here are a few short, specific illustrations of how my life is impacted by others decisions that are seemingly out of my control.

Example one. Cycling this morning on Old Hwy 99. Absolute center of the bike lane. Older guy in a van blasts his horn as he passes me. An admittedly subtle example, but imagine if he had been not just irrational, but drunk.

Example two. Now, almost everyday on my commute I see someone texting while driving. Studies suggest 55% of teen drivers text while driving. Nothing, I repeat nothing, makes me more angry more quickly. I’m very tempted to get a personal bumper sticker made up that will read “We Have a F*&%ing Social Contract.” Whatever happened to the “responsibility” portion of the “rights-responsibilities” continuum?! My commute is on the I-5 and traffic flows at 60-65mph. Guy yesterday was typical. Looks down, up, down, up, down, up, on and on and on.

The related problem is that when you’re driving on the I-5 between Tacoma and Olympia and you’re texting you slow WAY down which greatly increases the risk of an accident.

Could a law fix the problem? Not entirely because people ignore the WA state no hands cell phone law (which you can’t be arrested for unless you’ve been pulled over for something else), but it would help immensely and I will find some way to stuff the ballot when it becomes an initiative. Think too of the impact on others of the traffic miscue that leads to an accident that backs up the freeway for miles and hours.

Example three. I dislike shopping, but forced myself to do a bit while on vacation last week. Somewhat embarrassing to admit, but usually I swing through the clothes section at Costco and pick up a few things now and then. I noticed a trend at Costco awhile ago that was confirmed in other clothes stores last week. I can’t buy pants anymore because my inseam is longer than the circumference of my waist. I assume the clothes “powers- that-be” have decided there aren’t enough 32-34’s like me left to make it worth their while to offer them. So because people are getting larger over time, I have a much harder time finding pants. 

Example four. . . a leap from the interpersonal to the national/international. Sticking with the transportation theme, the cars my fellow citizens choose to buy and drive increase my country’s demand for foreign oil, thus impacting my country’s foreign policy. In addition, those same cars contribute to greenhouse gasses and global warming. 

There are at least two aspects of this abbreviated discussion that are sorely lacking—additional examples, and most importantly, synthesis or an explanation of how the sum of the specific examples create a more substantive impact on me than the individual parts. 

Another post in the next few days. . . In Defense of Eavesdropping.

CA Vacation by the Numbers

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Pac Northwesterners Loading Up on Vitamin D

Pac Northwesterners Loading Up on Vitamin D

9:  Chickens in Dave’s and Joy’s Santa Barbara backyard.

500: Days of Summer from the film we saw.

50: Meters of the San Luis Obispo (or SLO if you’re cool) outdoor pool we swam in.

25: Yards across said Olympic pool since it was set up for short course.

35: Times I used my new tiny neoprene camera case with a velcro belt loop as a pretend cell phone.

35: Times I embarrassed my daughters talking really loudly into new “cell phone”.

125: Times I said “tru dat” to emphasize the absolute veracity of something.

9: Hours slept per day.

-1: My score relative to par for six holes on Wednesday (a bird and five pars).

Horsing Around the Pismo Beach Dunes

Horsing Around the Pismo Beach Dunes

1: Time 17 showed me around Facebook.

4: Extra miles run (and walked) in the hills after missing a turn.

5: Pieces of fruit eaten per day.

1: Time I stole a Harry Potter novel from 17 while staging a Pothead intervention.

164: Feet of elevation in about .25 miles on Equestrian Drive.

0: Times sleeping daughters requested a follow up guitar-based wake up song.

Lance's Worst Dream—Swimming on Vacation. . . Tru Dat!

Lance's Worst Dream—Swimming on Vacation. . . Tru Dat!