Trailers vs. Paninis... you choose

Everyone who has ever been injured knows the frustration... you cant ride, or ride well, but your friends can. You know, the frozen face... "Oh, that's sooooo GREAT!!!!" comment when they do well, when you are stuck at home. Not that I'm not happy or anything, but lets face it, you vs. me... I'm small enough, that you loose. Kind of, except that I really am glad for you, mostly.

Here is my physical therapy torture of the day.... get strapped in and attached to a thingie in the ceiling... and then WALK on a treadmill at 1.5 mph. Easy? Too easy? Now turn 1/4 turn to the left, and don't trip over your feet and now walk side ways. Then turn 1/4 and walk backwards... turn 1/4 and walk sideways and then repeat... Now bump up the speed and reverse it.

Ok, try that and then tell me about your latest fast ride. I must have clown feet.., and about fell on my face. But... I am retraining my hip, and I am getting used to the heel lifts. And maybe when I'm thru suffering thru this shit my hip will last a few more years.

Of course I had my own experience tonight... Karen vs. the trailer. I went out after a very brief thunderstorm that barely lowered the 100+ degree temps, and increased significantly the already ghastly humidity. On the way back, on a very narrow road, I could see the on coming truck. And... I could hear the truck coming from behind. Then I heard the trailer the truck coming from behind... you know, the out of control, bouncing, completely out of control, kill you in a heart beat trailer noise that strikes fear into every rural cyclist noise? Yeah, that one... And I didn't hear the truck behind me slowing, and didn't see the truck in front of me slowing, and I knew that things were about to get tight, quick.

So I took that page out of the Steve Martin skit about "Gettin' Small!" Which I have perfected at work... and did my darnedest to just disappear... And somehow, by the grace of God, I got so small that I squeezed thru. Deep breath, and a wee bit of pee later, I made it.

Guys, you aren't the only ones. Women CAN pee on the bike. I proved it.

Oh well. It's true.

And...
While you were racing and kicking butt I came up with the PERFECT panini recipe... Enjoy!

1 loaf of your favorite panini style bread
Really good brie cheese
1 nicely ripe pear
oven roasted turkey breast
Pam Olive oil spray

thinly slice the bread, layer thin slices of pear, thick slices of turkey and med. slices of brie...heat your panini press (0r like I use a George Forman Lean Mean Fat Grillin' Machine) and spray the bread with olive oil Pam... Heat until the bread caramelizes but doesn't burn...

Then Eat! Damn, they're good! Just a hint of sweetness from the pear, mixed with the meaty goodness of the turkey is wonderful! Easy, smeazy. Yum~ (BTW... serve with a nice Riesling or Savignon Blanc... )

Please run over ESPN employees...

No I dont mean it. Really dont mean it. But how would ESPN management feel if that was what WE were telling people to do... You know, dont run them over to kill them, just to hurt them bad enough that they couldnt tell people to hurt US.

I called ESPN and told them flatly that if they dont fire Tony Kornheiser, I'm going on a letter writing campaign. To their advertisers. Hit them where the rubber meets the road, or something like that. Fringe group? Uh, look at the typical cyclist= well educated, highly employed, with discretionary spending. If we all ever decided to make a change, we could do it by our sheer economic force alone.

I'm very lucky living out in the hinterlands where most people know me. Instead of having bottles thrown at me, I usually get a friendly waive. On the rare time that something gets said to me, its usually that, a word.

Not everyone is so lucky. To have this come on the heels of a cyclist killed in NC while riding on the SHOULDER...

Tony Kornheiser, I surely hope your days are numbered.

Just a little less of me

A friend sent me an email complaining that the blogisphere has gotten a wee bit empty with my absence. While I seriously doubt that anyone notices, here we go...

Its been an interesting winter. Interesting is a good word... kind of leaves a nebulous feel to it without actually describing anything. Somehow that is a pretty good description of a winter full of snow, little to no riding, stress, tummy troubles that I thought was stress, and my new black, blue, green and yellow tummy.

Turns out stress has a new name, gall bladder. Yeah mine turned out to be defective and had to come out. Once Marc got his hands to stop shaking, he ripped it out. Or maybe thats why I have 4 holes... too much shaking. I thought that Marc had two hands, the other holes must have been for PRACTICE!

Now I did notice in the photos that Marc gave me that there was some extraneous yellow stuff left over. I would have thought that a buddy would have taken that out while he was in there dumpster diving through my intestines.

The worst part? Choose one... mouth like the Sahara until my bestest buddy J snuck me diet Cokes. (which she got yelled at for doing, but J was not going to let her fearless leader damn die of thirst...) Almost barfing in J's car on the way home even though J was technically going the speed limit as she hit every pothole on Patterson Ave... Or maybe being 8 months pregnant for days with the mother of all gas bubbles... My pick, itchy surgical glue. I'm thinking its a new torture device.

The best part? The best friends a cranky girl could ever have. From Mike who drove me at 5 am, to J who made sure that I was taken care of, Marc and crew who put up with my weird sense of humor (although the Scottish anesthesiologist didn't quite appreciate my saying that Marc was going to rip anything out... ) and all my buds that made sure that I laughed my way through it all.

In the meantime, until I can write about getting dropped in races, here is a treat for my vegetarian fans. Us carnivores like it, too!

Garlicy white bean dip

1 15 oz can of cannelloni beans
2 tbsp of roast garlic (recipe below)
dash of olive oil
pinch of salt

get a nice size head of your favorite garlic, cut the top of the head off and lightly anoint with olive oil. Put in tin foil and bake in the oven for 40 min at 350 degrees. Peel off any extra "paper" and squeeze the now roasted garlic out into a bowl. Mash. (You can use this as a spread all on its own, the roasting takes out the harsh garlic taste. Honest)

Drain beans and heat in the microzapper for 1 minute. Put beans, garlic paste, a splash of olive oil and a pinch of salt into a food processor. Whip into a smooth consistency.

Yum, yum, good. Serve on pita chips, make a great sandwich with roasted veggies, or a dip for veggies. Yum. Really.

Germs, or how I came to love the new TV...

Wednesday of last week I had a ripping headache. That's kind of to be expected as work has been a wee bit stressful as of late. Thursday, the ripping headache had a serious sinus aspect to it. I still managed to get in a fairly decent run, however. Yeah, unless you were watching me coughing up lung cheese...

Friday morning, Cliff blessed me by running with me. Seriously, almost all of my runs have been alone alone'O. Having someone else along to kick my butt is a very desirable thing. Unfortunately, about mile 2.5 I had to make an exit, stage left. I was getting dizzy, my heart was racing, and I felt like 6 gnomes were sitting on my chest.

No worries though, it didn't stop me from eating breakfast later at Panera. Sick, yes. Anorexic, not a chance...

Saturday was worse. Sunday was even worse.

Cliff gave me the Antichrist for Christmas. Yeah, a 42" plasma tv. Its HUGE. (And as my friend Marky Mark says, HDTV has ruined porn...) He's right. You can see every pore on every actor. In case you thought they were better looking than you... NOT! Ok, maybe they are, but they have zits, too.

Saturday I watched a whole afternoon of America's Next Top Model. Yeah, I know it doesn't exactly fit. Watching all the angst of trying to be perfect, just had a little poetic justice to it. This said from someone whose only piece of jewelry that is normally worn is a Timex Ironman Watch. You know, the 30 lap one.

Sunday, there was a House marathon on USA. Now I know marathons. All 23 of them. A tv show is not a marathon. Even if they show it all day... Ok, but now I'm hooked. Who couldn't be hooked on a vicodin addicted doctor, who actually figures things out and is a only a little more OCD than me? Ok, I don't understand the addiction thing. I have a whole medicine cabinet full of pain meds that I never took. I'm too scared to flush them down the commode... as I have a septic tank and I sure as hell don't want to unintentionally drink them when they filter down to the aquifer again.

But I'm sure that I probably didn't need the pain pills all those times the doctors prescribed them to me and I didn't take them. Someone was certainly flushing theirs (or peeing theirs) down the toilet and maybe that's why I never really had to take them. I probably was drinking them thru my well...

Now I just need to figure out what to do with all that stuff. It's grown to be quite the Elvis Box...

Being sick sucks. All you do is lay around, cough up all kinds of nasty gunk and think about things like Elvis boxes, the dust on the ceiling fan, and how much work is going to get you back when you return.

The dogs sure have liked having me laid up on the couch though. I guess its all in how you look at it.

I really didn't think I looked like an ax murderer...

After a really craptastic day at work, I decided to go for a run thru the high end section of Richmond. I still haven't gotten fully back in the running mode, and am full in weenie bike mode. So I had on tights, a long sleeve shirt and my garish Rostello light winter jacket. Yeah, I looked like a Christmas tree. Colorful.

As I got down by St Christophers Private School, I saw this Mercedes SUV swerve but run over something that looked like glass. As I got closer, I saw a box, and glass. Something just wasn't right.

Once I got there, I realized... not glass... roofing nails.

All those Muffy Soccer Mom's, picking up thier private school kids... rolling down that hill over roofing nails... Ok, I'm evil, but not that evil. So I started to try to get the Muffettes to stop...

Stops? Stop for the crazy woman in mis-matched running gear? Heaven forbid! You would have thought that I was an axe murderer. Or Ted Bundy. Although, Ted Bundy didn't have any trouble getting women to stop for him...

I did manage to get a couple little old ladies to stop. But they looked really scared until I told them why I was waiving them off. At this point I just got pissed and went on with my run.

On my way back there was a nice man out with a push broom trying to sweep the nails out of the road. I stopped to tell him of my earlier travails... and dodged a few cars who were determined to run our asses over. He said that he was about done trying to be nice. People just wouldn't slow down even though he was under a street light.

So if you hear of a slew of flat tires in Richmond tommorrow, don't feel sorry for the people. Us serial killers tried to warn them...

The new meaning of "EPIC"

I officiated today at the Virginia cyclocross champs at Darden Towe... great course, great promoter and finally, real little Belgian kind of weather. You know what I'm talking about, 30 something degrees, snow on top of slop, and a course the consistency of baby bad stuff.

Yeah, epic.

Good thing for me that I've replenished my truck after J hijacked it and cleaned it out. I had on tights, chinos, 3 shirts, a hat, a heavy jacket, gloves, wool socks and rubber rain boots. I still froze. Next time I'm putting those battery operated hunter's socks in the bike kit bag. I might as well have left the gloves at home as I couldn't write and wear them at the same time.

If there was ever a course where bike handling played a tremendous role, it was this one. If you could ride smoothly on slop, you had a great day. If you couldn't, you didn't. If you had a pit bike... you had a huge advantage. If you didn't you carried 10 lbs of ice, mud and "stuff" jammed into your brakes, deraileurs etc... There were some very talented riders out there that had a field day, and many who suffered big time. I salute you all. Just showing up on the line took a level of commitment that most racers didn't have.

First thing I did when I left the course was jack up the heat... then I stopped at the Everyday Cafe and ran my hands under hot water for a few minutes, then got a huge hot chocolate. Bet you most people did something similar. I may never be warm again.

And Glenda Craddock... you rock. You were so awsome out there and I was very, very proud of you. No way I could have kept up with you in the slop today. Gold star, girl. Big gold star.

Adventures with Karen & Gina, or why I will never stay at Motel 6 again...

Ok, I don't need much in a hotel. It has to be clean. It has to be safe. It can't have bugs. Just like with bike equipment pick 2 out of 3. Clean and safe, Safe and Bug free, etc...

Gina is my dog George's handler. We went on a typical Karen adventure to the Brittany Nationals in Ft Smith, Arkansas... yeah, on the Oklahoma border. Gina got to my house at 9:30 pm, and we drove straight thru, taking turns sleeping and walking dogs.

Thursday at 4 pm we arrived. Beat. We set up our equipment at the dog show site and headed to Cracker Barrel for a kick ass $8.99 turkey day dinner. Turkey, ham, veggies, stuffing, a drink and PIE! I may never cook again.

And then things got bad. Saturday night, after showing all day, we got back to Motel 6 about 1o pm. There were motocross racers in the parking lot getting a bit too wild. Two single women, 9 dogs, and a bunch of very drunk, and drugged up guys... It was not good. Then really not good.

At 10:30 they started beating on the van to make the dogs bark. Gina went out to see what was going on and one of the drunk slobs yelled at her..."What are you looking at, bitch!" They then told us that they could drink in public, they could do whatever they wanted and that I could get my liberal friends out and they'd shoot them...

So we called the front desk. The guys were not just harassing us, scaring the dogs, but also breaking glass everywhere... front desk said that they'd send a security guard...

Ten minutes later... no security guard so I called again. Finally an elderly man came, and when the guys told him that they didnt have to go in their rooms and that they'd get out a gun and start shooting people, he told us that we all should get along. Then he left. Fast.

So being dumb, I called the front desk again, and asked them to call the police. They told me they would. Not. Yeah, not.

So we sat up all night... afraid to pack up to leave as we would have to exit thru the very drugged up people. And the hotel did NOTHING to protect us.

At 5 am I went to the front desk to file a formal complaint. The receptionist looked at me like I was stupid. I guess that kind of behaviour is to be expected at Motel 6. We had planned on staying one more night before heading home, but I drove past Memphis, and got a little no-tell motel somewhere between Memphis and Knoxville.... it was quiet, it was clean, and no bugs.

Me, I'm never staying at Motel 6 again. They don't give a rats ass about their guests.

But George... made it to the very last cut at the Nationals... so close. I was so proud of him and Gina. The motel may have sucked... but Gina and George rocked the house.

Everyday is precious

Every once in awhile something happens to make you do a reassessment. On Saturday, my Bobdog started limping and couldn't put his left hind foot down. Sunday, it was worse. It wasn't broken, and I was convinced he had torn his ACL.

Ok, ACL surgery in a dog is about $2500... you suck it up for your buds.

So I asked Cliff to take him to the vets for me as I am swamped at work.

ACL? Heck no. The vet called me and asked me about Bob's prior surgery on that left leg. No clue. Bob was a rescue dog, and many of you have been charmed by Bobtricks during the cool weather races. Pins and plates? That was a new one for me....

Of course, that wasn't the problem. Seems that Bob has been over using his left leg to compensate for the problem in his right leg. And the over use irritated those pins and plates in the left leg. What was wrong in the right leg... yeah, the BIG C. No, the really big C. As in Bone Cancer. Bone Cancer as in if you can you amputate the limb for pain control, not a cure. Bone Cancer as in 2 months maybe before the pain gets so bad...

So now I'm working on pain management schedules. The idea of a life without Bobwaddle... Bob running thru every trick in the repertoire until he gets the one that gets the treat... Bob that makes everyone smile...

Yeah, pain management. Every day is precious.

Why yes I can find that date...

It's funny the little uses a blog has. Here is my latest use for a blog... a way to track when dogs try to bite me! No kidding!

I went out on the bike. Its friggin' beautiful outside, and about 70+ degrees. Amazing. I was having a great time, doing my usual winter alone ride.

And then...

See over a year ago I was repeatedly getting chased by this lab/border collie type dog. Then the dog started lying in wait for me, and there were several instances where I had close calls with cars trying hard not to get bit by "Blackie."

One day it got to be too much, and I saw someone up at the house and turned around and rode up the driveway and then used my bike as a matador's cape to keep the dog from biting me. I handle dogs. Don't try this at home.

The owner was obviously well to do and quite openly told me that she KNEW that the dog was going after cyclists. It wasn't until after I explained gross negligence, punitive damages and the like that she took more than a passing interest. All this time said dog was doing its darnedest to bite me.

They promised to keep the dog out of the road. And for about 6 months it worked.

Last April 25th the dog almost got me and I called animal control. How do I know, because I came home and wrote about it in the blog. I just looked up the date to give to animal control this time. Seems they have a new computer system, and wouldn't have the logs from the spring.

This info will at least help them determine if the officer who went out in the spring did his job and gave the owners a warning, if he did, they can file criminal charges against the owners. If he didn't... they have to give the owners a warning and then the NEXT time they can file criminal charges. What cant they do? They cant have the dog listed as a dangerous dog because so far my sprinting skills have saved me from actually getting bit.

I'd just as soon not get bit, thank you.

So just a word to the wise... if you are on Hanover Rd, just down from Pinhook in Goochland on the great bike way... watch out for "Blackie" at Windy Hill. But if you do get bit...

Sleepy Saturdays

The great thing for today was getting a disc of photos in the mail. Thats George winning the first of two groups last week. Damn, he looks good. Photos are fun.

Me, I got on the bike and about a mile into the ride, it started to rain. I thought about going back, but then decided that it was a warm rain, and I needed the ride. It ended up being a great ride, all the way up until I flatted with 2 miles to go.

I thought about just walking home, but the other thing about the ride was that I saw a tremendous amount of snakes out for their final hurrah of the year. Snakes, including water moccasins. Since the roads out here are too narrow to walk on, and I'd have to walk in the grass. Not happening with all snakes, so I called for the sag wagon.

The rest of the day... will be spent cleaning the bike. And maybe a nap!

Meet the new foster kid... Casey

Say hey to Casey, just a little tacker, at 4 months old. His owners were very nice people, who like a lot of people, didn't do research before buying a puppy. Brittany puppies are ACTIVE. As a hunting breed that is bred to cover large swaths of land to find birds, you really can't expect to have the just lay on the couch and be invisible.

Ok, you can expect it, but it ain't gonna happen.


I met his family in Fredericksburg, and soon we were off down the road. This puppy rings a bell to go outside. No kidding. At four months. The whole time we were talking, he sat in my lap very quietly. Hyper? Not on your life.

So Casey will be living at Camp Runamuck for the next few weeks until I find him the right home. I'll be getting him neutered, and I'm sure that my dogs will be teaching him all kinds of bad behaviors in no short order.

These two guys are Tom and Jerry... two Brittany brothers that were dumped in Atlanta. Brittany Rescue has a huge network, and a boarding kennel owner is fostering them right now. She says that they are two of the nicest Brittanys she's ever seen. Small, HAPPY, and just damn glad to be with you.

Got a lot of love in your heart? How about adopting Tom and Jerry together. They're like Double Mint Gum... double the pleasure, double the fun.

And sometimes you just go splat...

Today Cliff and I rode up to DC to do the Women Have a Heart 5 mile tt in DC. Yeah, we were wait listed, but guaranteed to ride. Maybe. Kinda sorta. Not. After having to dog jog all over DC to get to the Verizon Center, we finally made it only to be told that we would not be able to ride. And then, maybe we could ride. I was afraid of this. After driving 2.5 hours to get there, I didn't want to just go home though.

Plus I had already given the parking garage guys a show. Hey, you drive 2.5 hours, with the rest stops closed... Cliff kept telling me that it was fine, fine, then HURRY UP! When you gotta pee, you gotta pee. Sorry, that's the way it is.

So we went out and rode with the family ride on completely closed streets (completely closed except for people walking blind...) How cool is it to ride in your nation's capitol, in front of the capitol!! Seriously cool.

And then they let me ride. But Cliff couldn't ride. Ok, just one more nail in the coffin.

And then I looked at the wonderful start house that was built for this event... and thought, oh, this will be bad. Guaranteed someone is going to crash off that puppy. High, with a steep and narrow ramp. Oh, yeah. Someone is going down.

Poor guy in front of me... I was watching him in the house and he was kinda sorta really sideways as he was being held. I knew it was going to happen... and it did. He went off, somersaulted and did a facer. Oh, you know that hurt.

And then it was my turn. And yep, I went off, went off... tried to save it, but knew it was a lost cause, and somersaulted and managed to do a good tuck and roll. I understand from the spectators that it was a gnarly thing to watch. Film at 11...

Wouldn't you know, that my handlebars were bent down, and I couldn't jerk them up, so the officials said that they would give me a re-start. Then I was told that I couldn't re-start, and then I was told that I could. This as the paramedics were trying to convince me to go to the hospital.

So I did restart. From the ground. And I didn't use a holder. It was an awsome thing to ride a tt in downtown DC.

So Mimi, you are not the only one to cartwheel off a start house. I now have joined your illustrious company. And now I get to go see if I can get some of the grime off in the tub. If you are hearing a terrible shrieking noise... its probably me.

Cool event, but I now remember that I completely hate DC. Traffic is bad, scenery is great, and I always find a way to go boom.

The wholecheck experience

Whole Foods opened up here earlier in the year. Ok, its pricey, but if you need good stuff, you know that you can get it there, no muss, no fuss.

Plus they have that neat Enoteca wine bar... I really like the idea of trying with a decent enough size sample before I buy.

My Dad came to visit last week and Cliff and I took him to dinner on Friday. Being the ultimate cheapskate, we took him to Wholecheck. Why? Because on Fridays, the one near me does 5 for $5. Except its not 5 its 10... 5 nice size food samples and 5 1/4 glasses of wine for $5, and if you bring the wine glass back, the next time its $4. Yeah, $4.00. Ok, its not 5 food samples, either. They do food samples all over the store, and I swear we ate about a pound of really killer cheese, too.

Dad is in his 70's and does a great job cooking and stuff, but that food bar, and the $4.00 dinner, he was impressed. I think I have a new convert.

So did we buy anything else from Wholecheck? Hell no. Stuffed, we drove across the street to get stuff to cook for Saturday dinner. Sure couldn't beat that $4.00 check though...

The Intervention

I have my self contained survival unit, aka "the Queencab." It's great. It is completely supplied in case of nuclear war, alien invasion, or group ride. However, every once in awhile, the interior gets to a toxic overload level.

And my team does an intervention.

I get back from a team business meeting which resulted in my missing the team ride this morning. As soon as I get home, J pulls up in the driveway, hands me her keys and steals my truck. She has promised to return it to me Monday morning.

Ok. I understand. I've hit the tipping point.

So I humbly thanked her and went to go get dressed to go for a ride.

Only problem... my self contained survival unit is gone, and J's dinky ass little car has an ancient pump with the wrong valve thingie on it.

So my ride is tanked.

See, I'm right, and they are wrong. You really DO need all that stuff that is in my truck.

Big sigh.

To test or not to test...

There is a raging debate going on over at Slowtwitch.com right now. Seems that if you get a Kona slot as an age grouper that you will now have to sign a waiver, and be subject to out of and in competition testing just like the pros. (And since apparently the governing body has never seen fit to look into TUE's for age groupers, you can imagine some of the teeth gnashing that is causing...)

Me, I think its a great thing. I think everyone who competes should be tested at some point in time. I remember one year at the Pittsburgh Marathon, a local high school coach placed in the money and was tested. And failed. He let out a cry that he shouldn't be subjected to the testing that the pros go thru, since he wasn't a pro. (and I think he may have lost his coaching position...)

I also remember a little ethnic running enclave from the DC area who used to pop out to races that had money but no drug testing. As they didn't live in their home country, they were not subject to out of competition testing, and since they didn't do races here that did drug testing, they weren't subject to in competition testing. It was quite a little scam, but there wasn't much anyone was going to do about it. Drug testing is expensive.

One of my friends had an agent whose husband was eventually busted... Oh, the stories she would tell from some of the houses she stayed in. Drugs being sterilized on the stove...

But if you think that age groupers don't dope, you are in Lala Land. One of my former co-workers was on a pub team softball team... He told me what he took. And I told him that his balls were going to shrink to the size of marbles...

Do I think age groupers should be tested. Yep. People put too much time and effort to have some crappy cheater take away what they rightly earned. I don't agree with the whole rules apply to some people and not others. Its wrong. If you test positive, the results should be public, your peers should know. JMHO... what do you think?

The portable survival kit

Welcome to the Labor Day weekend. As usual, I'm one of the only ones actually working today. Well, me and J. Sharon is getting her truck fixed, but never fear, she has both a laptop and a crackberry. The crackberry to send thousands of emails, and the laptop to play Mafia Wars. The only problem, is that Sharon's new bike is ready, and she is still stuck getting her truck fixed. Oh, second problem, her new bike is ready, she is still stuck getting her truck fixed and she is HUNGRY.

Now if she drove a self-contained survival unit like I do, she would be fine. I have a Toyota Queen Cab. It is built to hold one person. In a pinch, one person and four dogs, (one Doberman in the back and 1 Brittany and 2 black fluffy things in the passenger seat.) In the survival unit there is at least one bike, a pump, 3 pairs of bike shoes, crocs, 2-3 helmets, 6-10 pairs of gloves- none of which match, socks in all states of disrepair, a blanket or three, medical kits (notice the s), books, Wine Spectator in case I'm really thirsty, a camera in case there is something cool or you hit me, a bike trainer, a trainer mat, gas container *full*, money, and enough food and drinks to last a small family turned over in a ditch for a month.

When aliens hit the planet, and we have to flee into the hills... you will all be sorry. Me and my survival kit are packed and ready to go. Too bad there is no room for you!

GamJams Review- New Favorite Helmet

If I had to pick one bike related THING this year that I really need, want and cant ride without, it would be the Specialized Sworks Helmet.

Specialized isn't even our sponsor this year, and this is still the helmet that I want on my head. It has a great locking system, that is easily adjustable. This is a good feature as I go from hair, to my every 3 year near crew cut and back. Believe it or not, hair has volume. I need a helmet that breathes, that is durable, and that you can clean up a bit. I really don't like helmets that hold that wonderful funk smell. My dogs do, but they don't wear helmets.

I'm sure that next year this will be my new favorite helmet. I can't wait until it gets here. Even as a favorite though, I doubt I'll be wearing it much and will still need that go-to helmet, the Specialized one.

Of course, my next favorite new "thing" this year is my new teammate, Pam. I've already got Thing One, and I've got Thing Two. Pam is going to have to be my favorite Thing Three. She sure is our favorite little pocket rocket, and we predict that she will be Kevin Dillard's new favorite subject, you know, after Eurotrash J.

Go Bernard Lagat!

It's funny... America is the land of immigrants, but in track and field, this guy gets no love. He came to America to go to college and has lived here ever since. In every interview, he is the classiest guy who ever spoke. He praises his teammates, congratulates all around him, and thanks his country, USA.

Today's 5000 meters... what a fabulous race. Usually the Kenyans box him in to punish him for changing citizenship. Today, running with stitches in his legs from being spiked, he just positioned himself correctly and the sea parted. Stride for stride with Bekele... two great champions heading to the line, I was riveted.

Bernard Lagat, class act, and American. You cant always win, but you can put forth the best effort to try. And immediately afterward, he went to hug his teammates.

Thing 2 is a 3!!

We met Sharon a year or so ago at one of the Speedway races. All alone, in her Army kit, looking like a lost puppy. You wouldnt think that that face hides a killer instinct, but you'd be wrong.

Now that's the face we know and love. The take no prisoners, ride until you barf on your competition, and if you cant throw up on them, burp on them.

So congratualations! Colsweatsalot, aka Burpsalot Kitty, or Thing 2, has now been upgraded to a 3! With lots and lots of hard work, and a ride 'til you puke approach and good things do come!

How hot is it?

I get stopped on the road to help out strangers all the time. I bet you do, too. Yeah, I've shared my water with perfect strangers, but they usually are taller than my knee.

What happens when it''s 120 degrees in Australia? Koala's beg for water.

You wouldn't turn down a mate would ya?