Last weekend was lining up to be the driving weekend from hell. Saturday I had to be in Roanoke/Salem at 7 am for a dog show with Georgie, and Sunday I was to race and volunteer officiate at the Age Graded Road Race. Oh, and come home in between times... Somewhere in there I was supposed to sleep as well.
Saturday was ok. I got up at 3 am and was on the road shortly there after. We got down to the tiny civic center and found that most of the open space for dog crates was taken. I finally found a nice place and stacked all my stuff. An hour later I had a lovely confrontation with some Ridgeback people who announced that that was their space and I had to move.
I was about to call them out, and then looked at them, and then at Georgie, and decided to let them have the space. I was right, and would have won, but you never know what jerks will do to your dog when your back is turned. Fun experience number one.
George was at his dazzling best and won Best of Breed. I then hung around for 8 more hours only to overlooked in the group, and then had a 3.5 hour drive home...
Sunday I got up at 3 am to head up to the road race. It's a beautiful 2. 5 hour drive over the mountains with deer on every shoulder... I got in a little before 7 and checked in with the chief ref. My job, to ride in the wheel truck in case there was an emergency on the course. This was a blast. Ken drove me around all morning and gave me the local color, and I got to give him color commentary on what was happening. We both got to listen to the moto refs on the radios- my favorite phrase... the field is NOT animated. (Heck, I wouldn't have been much animated out there, either...) I gave a little Fat Frogs boy the only fluid I had in the truck- a diet coke to try to keep him hydrated when he ran out of water. (and I picked up his trash when he threw his bottle on the side of the road.)
All in all, that was fun!
What wasn't fun was the fact that my hip was completely tied up from all the truck riding for two days. By the time I did one race my hip was screaming at me. By the time to warm up came for me, I was done. I thought about it, even went to get changed, but the numbness down the leg wasn't going away, and the course wasn't getting any easier. So I loaded up and went home.
Yesterday I spent the day stretching, icing, taking motrin, and applying kitty-heat. Fuzz, my cat, practiced his brand of kitty magic, laying on my hip and calling the kitty- Gods to make my hip heal. (I think he was calling someone as he air kneaded in his happy state.) I'm back on the stability ball hoping that its a minor nerve irritation and will be better by this weekend.
Page Valley did a great job with this race. The course is tough, but fair. The locals were wonderful and supportive, and the scenery was to die for. Congrats to all who suffered on the road, especially my team mates!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
Cook with your kids
One of Cliff's lovely auties passed this week. Jeannine was a truly lovely lady. The first time I met her, she wanted to know who I was, who were my family, and that I was going to take good care of Cliff. It was love at first sight. This lady made me feel like family.
Jeannine was buried at the family plot on the old family farm. I wanted to go, and of course you have to bring food for the luncheon afterwards. It's funny how sometimes you get one of those Kevin Bacon 6 degrees of separation things. As I was driving into town to get fresh mozzarella, NPR was doing a story on a childhood memory of the author and her lovely Armenian neighbor and how she would teach the author about cooking, and at the same time share life experiences and lessons.
All of this brought me back to my mother and what she taught me under the guise of cooking together. My Mom taught me that cooking good food was an act of love. Not just providing good nutrition, but in spending time and teaching me about life and what was important.
I was going to the City to buy fresh mozzarella because my Mom taught me to do things well. This lunch was going to be outside in 95 degree heat. People were going to be hot- and a nice caprese salad would be light, refreshing and safe. But if you really cared, the ingredients of course had to be the best, tomatoes and basil picked that morning, and mozzarella that was just made.
That show had me remembering my Mom trying to teach me how to make these luscious Norwegian pastries called Kringla. Kringla is a breakfast pastry made with sour cream. There is no definitive recipe as things like humidity, altitude, quality of the sour cream can make the amounts and cooking time vary greatly. It all had to be properly blended as kneading too little would give lumps, and too much would make the pastries tough.
I never mastered Kringla. Deep in my heart I think its because once I mastered it, she'd stop trying to teach me. It really wasn't the pastries that mattered, it was the time and the stories we shared.
I want one of her pastries so bad that I'd give my tt bike for one...
It's funny how some days you get a perfect storm of feeling. The loss of this lovely lady, a simple story on NPR, and the ache that continues with the loss of my Mom. I don't remember much of the stuff that my Mom gave me. Not toys, or books, and materials things like that. What I remember most, and treasure most, is the TIME and love that she gave me.
So cook with your kids. Your kids will forget Ipods, and Play Stations. They won't forget you.
Jeannine was buried at the family plot on the old family farm. I wanted to go, and of course you have to bring food for the luncheon afterwards. It's funny how sometimes you get one of those Kevin Bacon 6 degrees of separation things. As I was driving into town to get fresh mozzarella, NPR was doing a story on a childhood memory of the author and her lovely Armenian neighbor and how she would teach the author about cooking, and at the same time share life experiences and lessons.
All of this brought me back to my mother and what she taught me under the guise of cooking together. My Mom taught me that cooking good food was an act of love. Not just providing good nutrition, but in spending time and teaching me about life and what was important.
I was going to the City to buy fresh mozzarella because my Mom taught me to do things well. This lunch was going to be outside in 95 degree heat. People were going to be hot- and a nice caprese salad would be light, refreshing and safe. But if you really cared, the ingredients of course had to be the best, tomatoes and basil picked that morning, and mozzarella that was just made.
That show had me remembering my Mom trying to teach me how to make these luscious Norwegian pastries called Kringla. Kringla is a breakfast pastry made with sour cream. There is no definitive recipe as things like humidity, altitude, quality of the sour cream can make the amounts and cooking time vary greatly. It all had to be properly blended as kneading too little would give lumps, and too much would make the pastries tough.
I never mastered Kringla. Deep in my heart I think its because once I mastered it, she'd stop trying to teach me. It really wasn't the pastries that mattered, it was the time and the stories we shared.
I want one of her pastries so bad that I'd give my tt bike for one...
It's funny how some days you get a perfect storm of feeling. The loss of this lovely lady, a simple story on NPR, and the ache that continues with the loss of my Mom. I don't remember much of the stuff that my Mom gave me. Not toys, or books, and materials things like that. What I remember most, and treasure most, is the TIME and love that she gave me.
So cook with your kids. Your kids will forget Ipods, and Play Stations. They won't forget you.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Good things
Sunday my Garmin kept dying. I thought maybe I hadn't charged it properly, so I came home and checked everything out. It was all fine. Then I recharged the sucker, just in case. Went out for a ride on Monday, and within two minutes it was dead again. Rebooted, and two minutes later it was dead again.
So I called Garmin support this morning. After a twenty minute hold I got a tech who had me clear the unit. I'll ride tonight and if it does it again, they gave me a tech number, told me to let them know that I was sending it, and they'd send me a new one within a week.
No muss, no fuss, just plain good customer service. Not only do they have good products, and well trained people, they also sponsor a certain bike racing team. Why would you buy from anyone else!
Then comes the best part of Summer... tomato sandwiches. Fresh from my garden, big, fat beef steak tomatoes... a little pepper, Miracle Whip on whole wheat toast. Make it even better with colby cheese and bacon. Or just plain tomatoes with pepper. Caprese salad- tomatoes, basil mozzarella and olive oil. Tomatoes rule. Thank God for the garden. I'd go broke without it.
I'll even salute the doe who keeps eating all my peaches. She really does liven things up, but caring is sharing. I'd like to get one or two peaches this year!
The last good thing for the day.... is a mixed blessing. Ricco admits to drug use and they don't have to have a long, drawn out mess before they hang him. I really hate to see people dragged thru the mud, and sometimes I question the tactics used to catch the cheats. But I have to admire a rider who when they are caught admits to what they did. And yes, I think there should be two levels of punishment for those who fess up and help clean up the sport and for those who force big trials.
I'm off to buy a converter box for the tv. One more gadget for the technologically stupid...
So I called Garmin support this morning. After a twenty minute hold I got a tech who had me clear the unit. I'll ride tonight and if it does it again, they gave me a tech number, told me to let them know that I was sending it, and they'd send me a new one within a week.
No muss, no fuss, just plain good customer service. Not only do they have good products, and well trained people, they also sponsor a certain bike racing team. Why would you buy from anyone else!
Then comes the best part of Summer... tomato sandwiches. Fresh from my garden, big, fat beef steak tomatoes... a little pepper, Miracle Whip on whole wheat toast. Make it even better with colby cheese and bacon. Or just plain tomatoes with pepper. Caprese salad- tomatoes, basil mozzarella and olive oil. Tomatoes rule. Thank God for the garden. I'd go broke without it.
I'll even salute the doe who keeps eating all my peaches. She really does liven things up, but caring is sharing. I'd like to get one or two peaches this year!
The last good thing for the day.... is a mixed blessing. Ricco admits to drug use and they don't have to have a long, drawn out mess before they hang him. I really hate to see people dragged thru the mud, and sometimes I question the tactics used to catch the cheats. But I have to admire a rider who when they are caught admits to what they did. And yes, I think there should be two levels of punishment for those who fess up and help clean up the sport and for those who force big trials.
I'm off to buy a converter box for the tv. One more gadget for the technologically stupid...
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Inspector Gadget
I will admit to a love-hate relationship with gadgets. Last week I was treated to dinner by one of my favorite law firms, and the "rainmaker" had the new I-phone. I was in love. That sucker seemed to know what you wanted it to do, before you knew. Or maybe it's user actually knew how to use the sucker. Me, I generally figure out how to do about 10% of what my gizmos can do. Like I can use my cell phone, but for the life of me I can't pick up call waiting. It's especially problematic when I'm calling J, and she is calling me. Since we are both phone stupid... we have to wait until we both hang up and try to call each other again.
So you can imagine my frustration trying to get to the State Age Graded TT. There is one stinking exit that always gets me. And Cliff bought me a Garmin for Christmas since I'm always getting lost. I frustrate the hell out of the lady in the box and she is always, "recalculating." That one exit is 15B, for which there is a sign that says 15B over exit 13. (Why, I don't know.) Today it got me. So after waiting 30 minutes at the Monitor Merrimac, my cushion that I always give myself was rapidly evaporating. When I took exit 13, instead of 15B, and the Garmin lady had to start "recalculating" I knew we were going to be in trouble. After some round and rounds, Bill and I made it. He got my bike ready while I signed in.
Ok, that's Garmin #1. Then I have the Garmin 305 for the bike that I bought when the silly magnets kept falling off my Hed Tri-spokes. Without a magnet, you'd think I'd be safe. You know, except for that little tree problem that Garmin's have. Go under a tree line stretch, and the satellite link gets lost and all of a sudden the mileage readings start going all over the place. First 22, then 9, 17, etc... Except today, it just decided to keep shutting off. So I'm riding as hard as I can, trying to reboot the damn thing, while not hitting any of the craters in the road, and riding hard. Reboot, reset, reboot, reset.
Oh, and top that off with smoke from the Dismal Swamp fires, a dead deer, and generalized Dismal Swamp rot. I was sure I was having a suck-fest kind of day. So I kept pumping, and decided the hell with gadgets, I'd go with the flow.
The 4th chick I passed... I thought that maybe I might not suck but so much. Then one of the guys passed me, and I used him as a marker. I got the Garmin going again when we hit blue sky, and I know that I was going 28 mph when I crossed the line. Ending up 58:13 for a new pr by a minute.
And Maria decided to do better this week too, leaving me still some 90 seconds plus in the hole. One day, I'm going to be as fast as Maria.
Bill decided to kill the course today by a minute as well, but Sharon, for her birthday took a whopping 6 minutes off her best time. Just wait til she actually gets a tt bike, and maybe some decent wheels. I think Sonya pr'd as well. Needless to say, the ride home was a happy one, with no gadget failures.
Next up is the State Masters Road Race and I hear it's a bear. Ruth told me she's riding it as well. So somehow I've got to transform myself into a climber by next week. I'm not sure that there is a gadget for that!
So you can imagine my frustration trying to get to the State Age Graded TT. There is one stinking exit that always gets me. And Cliff bought me a Garmin for Christmas since I'm always getting lost. I frustrate the hell out of the lady in the box and she is always, "recalculating." That one exit is 15B, for which there is a sign that says 15B over exit 13. (Why, I don't know.) Today it got me. So after waiting 30 minutes at the Monitor Merrimac, my cushion that I always give myself was rapidly evaporating. When I took exit 13, instead of 15B, and the Garmin lady had to start "recalculating" I knew we were going to be in trouble. After some round and rounds, Bill and I made it. He got my bike ready while I signed in.
Ok, that's Garmin #1. Then I have the Garmin 305 for the bike that I bought when the silly magnets kept falling off my Hed Tri-spokes. Without a magnet, you'd think I'd be safe. You know, except for that little tree problem that Garmin's have. Go under a tree line stretch, and the satellite link gets lost and all of a sudden the mileage readings start going all over the place. First 22, then 9, 17, etc... Except today, it just decided to keep shutting off. So I'm riding as hard as I can, trying to reboot the damn thing, while not hitting any of the craters in the road, and riding hard. Reboot, reset, reboot, reset.
Oh, and top that off with smoke from the Dismal Swamp fires, a dead deer, and generalized Dismal Swamp rot. I was sure I was having a suck-fest kind of day. So I kept pumping, and decided the hell with gadgets, I'd go with the flow.
The 4th chick I passed... I thought that maybe I might not suck but so much. Then one of the guys passed me, and I used him as a marker. I got the Garmin going again when we hit blue sky, and I know that I was going 28 mph when I crossed the line. Ending up 58:13 for a new pr by a minute.
And Maria decided to do better this week too, leaving me still some 90 seconds plus in the hole. One day, I'm going to be as fast as Maria.
Bill decided to kill the course today by a minute as well, but Sharon, for her birthday took a whopping 6 minutes off her best time. Just wait til she actually gets a tt bike, and maybe some decent wheels. I think Sonya pr'd as well. Needless to say, the ride home was a happy one, with no gadget failures.
Next up is the State Masters Road Race and I hear it's a bear. Ruth told me she's riding it as well. So somehow I've got to transform myself into a climber by next week. I'm not sure that there is a gadget for that!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
They're out there
Sunday at Bryan Park J and I were treated to a mother hawk teaching her kids how to fly. I think we could have watched the show all day. Just think of a parent trying to teach a kid to jump off the high dive... there was a whole lot of shouting, pleading, cajoling, threatening, and then flying off in disgust... (while shouting, pleading, cajoling) Then the more precocious kid decided to show up the sibling, and took off! Of course this left said sibling, screaming how unfair the whole deal was. And then he had to take off too.
It was a great show. Hey, I'm a geek, what can I say.
James always laughs that I only see dead critters. Its not true. I see live stuff all the time. Sometimes I see bears, lots of foxes, coyotes on occasion. The memorable dead stuff are the beasties that I know are out there, that are better at hiding. Like bobcats. I only get to see them when they've been hit by cars. I'd just as soon not see them that way, thank you.
Last night I got to see about 30 wild turkeys and their pults, a sight that since the coyotes have started to move in I don't get to see very often. The coyotes are also doing a serious number on the poor foxes, and pretty much the feral cats in Louisa and Goochland are going the way of the passenger pigeon. Thats not a bad thing in my opinion. Feral cats do a bad number on the native critter population.
What I didn't see last night, but certainly felt, was the onslaught of the horse flies. Sheesh, they have to be all bite and brain. I have no idea how they know exactly where to bite you and when, so that you can't get back at them. For me, it was on the butt, twice, on the big hill on my ride. First time I almost fell off the bike. You would have thought that would have made me climb faster, and you'd be wrong. It made me climb swinging my arms like a lunatic.
I don't know why people ride with Ipods and stuff. I have all the additional stimulation I need just by looking.
It was a great show. Hey, I'm a geek, what can I say.
James always laughs that I only see dead critters. Its not true. I see live stuff all the time. Sometimes I see bears, lots of foxes, coyotes on occasion. The memorable dead stuff are the beasties that I know are out there, that are better at hiding. Like bobcats. I only get to see them when they've been hit by cars. I'd just as soon not see them that way, thank you.
Last night I got to see about 30 wild turkeys and their pults, a sight that since the coyotes have started to move in I don't get to see very often. The coyotes are also doing a serious number on the poor foxes, and pretty much the feral cats in Louisa and Goochland are going the way of the passenger pigeon. Thats not a bad thing in my opinion. Feral cats do a bad number on the native critter population.
What I didn't see last night, but certainly felt, was the onslaught of the horse flies. Sheesh, they have to be all bite and brain. I have no idea how they know exactly where to bite you and when, so that you can't get back at them. For me, it was on the butt, twice, on the big hill on my ride. First time I almost fell off the bike. You would have thought that would have made me climb faster, and you'd be wrong. It made me climb swinging my arms like a lunatic.
I don't know why people ride with Ipods and stuff. I have all the additional stimulation I need just by looking.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sport Kilts
Look, they even come in military colors! Sorry, Brian didn't send me a photo of Gilbert sporting his. http://www.sportkilt.com/
(although I bet most of the guys are just closet exhibitionists, and really do want everyone to see what is peaking out under the towel...
Thanks for short towels?
We had a wonderful weekend of racing in Central Virginia. Thanks so much to our friends at Natures Path (esp. to Carolyn in her first stint as a race director) and to Braden and the crew at Carytown Bikes for the circuit race on Sunday. Braden, I hope you heal fast with no complications after your crash!
Random thoughts from the weekend...
If you use the port a potty, please make sure you actually get said material in the hole. This is not rocket science, and your cycling buddies have to use said house of ... after you. If you miss the hole, you need to go back to pre-school for potty training, but first you need to clean up after yourself.
As a race director you can control a whole lot of what happens on race day. You can not prevent people from doing dumb stuff. IE you can not prevent people who live on the course from starting fires. I always expect "stuff" to happen, but even I'll admit that that one was a first!
Short towels... this one is from Sharon.... Guys, if you are going to do the shorts shimmy, get a full size or larger towel. And make sure that the "opening" isn't at the front. Unless of course you really want everyone to see your little pony package. In that case, be a man and just strip naked for all to see like my Irish soccer (football) friends do. I wont give you a list of all the guys' packages I've seen, as after a bike race they don't tend to be all that memorable, anyway...
We have a great bunch of people at bike races... (ok, a few jerks, too) Thanks to Dr Marc for checking out whatever that red streak and down my arm was (celulitis.) J wanted me to have the arm amputated and Marc, being the voice of reason, thought that maybe we should wait a day or two to do that, and try antibiotics first. Which he then called in for me... To Gwynne, Emily, Rhonda and Tom for helping me through the pesky asthma attack. Rhonda, I hope I didn't scare your kids too bad. Who would have thought there'd be a fire on the course!
Biggest thought... yes, you can put on a race. If Carolyn Goble can step up to the plate, and in a few months pull a really nice race out of her bag of tricks, you can as well. Good job, Carolyn. And when you get out of your post-race coma, we'll have a drink together!
Oh, well, another great weekend over. Ya'll be good out there!
Random thoughts from the weekend...
If you use the port a potty, please make sure you actually get said material in the hole. This is not rocket science, and your cycling buddies have to use said house of ... after you. If you miss the hole, you need to go back to pre-school for potty training, but first you need to clean up after yourself.
As a race director you can control a whole lot of what happens on race day. You can not prevent people from doing dumb stuff. IE you can not prevent people who live on the course from starting fires. I always expect "stuff" to happen, but even I'll admit that that one was a first!
Short towels... this one is from Sharon.... Guys, if you are going to do the shorts shimmy, get a full size or larger towel. And make sure that the "opening" isn't at the front. Unless of course you really want everyone to see your little pony package. In that case, be a man and just strip naked for all to see like my Irish soccer (football) friends do. I wont give you a list of all the guys' packages I've seen, as after a bike race they don't tend to be all that memorable, anyway...
We have a great bunch of people at bike races... (ok, a few jerks, too) Thanks to Dr Marc for checking out whatever that red streak and down my arm was (celulitis.) J wanted me to have the arm amputated and Marc, being the voice of reason, thought that maybe we should wait a day or two to do that, and try antibiotics first. Which he then called in for me... To Gwynne, Emily, Rhonda and Tom for helping me through the pesky asthma attack. Rhonda, I hope I didn't scare your kids too bad. Who would have thought there'd be a fire on the course!
Biggest thought... yes, you can put on a race. If Carolyn Goble can step up to the plate, and in a few months pull a really nice race out of her bag of tricks, you can as well. Good job, Carolyn. And when you get out of your post-race coma, we'll have a drink together!
Oh, well, another great weekend over. Ya'll be good out there!
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